You’ll have to excuse me today. I am very grumpy. Really, really
grumpy, as a matter of fact. The problem is last night I didn’t get
much sleep because I was sharing a bed with a dog.
You’ll have to excuse me today. I am very grumpy. Really, really grumpy, as a matter of fact. The problem is last night I didn’t get much sleep because I was sharing a bed with a dog.
Not Harry. I mean an actual dog. Harry is normally fine to sleep with, although if we’re being honest here, the man rolls up in the covers, which frankly, is a bit of an issue for me.
But the problem today is the dog and my lack of sleep. I need my sleep. I crave it the way … well, possibly the way Lindsey Lohan craves attention and necklaces – only not in a crazy, “Look at me, I’m above the law” kind of way. More in a “If I don’t get enough sleep I’m a witch on wheels” kind of way. Which actually might be the same thing, now that I think about it.
Anyway for the last few nights I haven’t gotten any sleep because when Harry is travelling for work, the dog, Kirby, enjoys sleeping with me. Normally she doesn’t sleep with anyone but Junior, because Harry doesn’t like sleeping with dogs. Yeah, I know. He’s the smart one in our family.
As it turns out, Kirby is a bed pig. I don’t know how she does it, but that darned dog manages to kick my butt out of bed all the time. Seriously? She’s like 20 pounds. How the heck does she manage to hog up the entire bed?
And more importantly, why do I keep letting this happen?
I mean, it’s not like I could say it starts off well. It doesn’t. While I am in the bathroom washing my face and brushing my teeth, Kirby jumps up onto the bed and rolls herself up into a ball on my pillow. So when I’m done and ready for bed, I walk over and ask her to move.
And she pretends very convincingly to be deaf.
So I try to move her over. At this point, Kirby makes herself completely immobile. It’s like trying to move a 1,200 pound boulder. She literally will not move and stays tight in her little ball shape so I end up kind of rolling her to the side like one of those roly-poly bugs.
When I finally move her off my pillow (which by the way does not smell so fresh and clean and un-Kirby like at this point) Kirby huffs, rolls herself into another ball and stares at me like I am the worst person on earth because I have just taken her spot on the bed. Really? Really? I thought it was my spot, but obviously, I’m the spot stealer here.
And then we go to sleep. Or at least I go to sleep. Kirby goes into I’m-going-to-hog-the-entire-bed mode, which means she spends the next eight hours of prime sleeping time trying to push me off the bed.
And she’s shockingly good at it, too.
I wake up several times during the night and find the entire right side of my body dangling off the side of the bed. And there is a little, fat dog curled up into my back pushing at me with her little legs.
So I roll her over to the other side of the bed. And 15 minutes later, I wake up with hands and feet dangling and a dog in my back again. I seriously don’t know how she does it. I roll her back again. She takes over my side of the bed again.
This goes on for hours. Hours. And the entire time, Kirby acts like she is fast asleep. Her eyes don’t even open. She snores through this whole thing. And by the way, when I say Kirby snores, I mean she snores. Loud. Which also is not conducive to me getting my required hours of happy sleep.
So by morning, when the alarm clock from Hell wakes me from my completely un-refreshing night of sleep, I am grumpy. Also, my back hurts and there is no feeling in the entire right side of my body because it dangled into space for most of the night.
You know, at this point, I’m happy that Harry is home and will be taking all the covers. At least I can get some sleep.
