Ben, one of the authors on one of our very favorite blogs, Who’s Your Dachshund, commented on my “Bed Hog” post the other day about not having enough backbone to banish his dogs to the floor bed (even though he wrote about reaching the limits of his dachshund bed-hog tolerance in a recent post). I empathize with Ben. I’m sorry to say that my backbone is, well, starting to crumble.
Did you notice that one of the pictures on my Thanksgiving post was of Jasmine on the couch? The ultra-expensive off-white couch with down cushions and eight-way hand-tied oak frame? The very couch that I claimed that Jasmine would NEVER get on because dogs don’t belong on the couch and I would never let Jasmine sleep there?
I felt guilty. Hubby and I have been working on the house all week. He took the week off so he could renovate the bathroom and do other odds and ends around the house. We’ve been ultra-busy, running around, painting, cooking, cleaning…and poor little Jasmine’s normal serene routine has been turned upside down. She has reverted to being very afraid of hubby and being worried that he’s going to come at her with an axe as she’s eating her dinner (the very dinner he prepared for her), and she’s been hiding a lot under the bed.
She hung out with us at the Thanksgiving table (a few choice pieces of turkey were her reward), and after dinner, she was allowed to sit and sleep on the couch. The guilt got to me. Or maybe it was copious amounts of turkey. Maybe it was because everyone was sacked out on the chairs…and poor Jasmine had been so neglected…oh the guilt. I caved. I set her on her blanket on the coveted couch. She then went into a tryptophan coma. That’s when I snapped her picture. She was so darned cute, nose tucked under the paw, snuggled on her blanket on the couch. Crumble Crumble.
She is allowed up on the bed to snuggle, and it’s starting to be a really bad idea. The other night, really the other morning (at 3:30 in the morning to be precise), she decided it was snuggle time. She jumped up on the side of the bed trying to get my attention. She persisted for several minutes. I played ‘possum hoping that she’d give up. Finally, with a loud, jingling full-body shake and a disgruntled snort, she re-fluffed her blankets on her floor bed, plunked back down and went to sleep. She tried again at 4:30 a.m. and hubby got up and walked over to my side of the bed–that made her climb under the bed and allowed us to go back to sleep. At 7:30 in the morning she once again decided it was snuggle time. Of course, I was kind of awake so I let her up. Crumble Crumble.
In the afternoon, she kept jumping up on the couch. She hasn’t figured out how to climb up, but she jumps up on the side, places her paws on the edge of the couch, wags her tail and gives me the “happy puppy” look. I tried to pet her and she did the “pounce and run.” She came back and did the “happy puppy” pose again. I KNOW what she wanted. She wanted what she now thinks she’s entitled to–her rightful place on the couch. I guess I’ve been leading up to this point. I’ve been giving her some “Mom time” during the week. In the morning, I sit on hubby’s recliner and drink my coffee and she curls up on my lap and sleeps a deep and happy sleep. I guess it’s a slippery slope from recliner to couch. Crumble Crumble Crumble.
So I have a little less backbone due to an unfathomably cute dog that I can’t resist. She just looks at me and I melt. She just lies there and sleeps and I melt. She puts on the cute and she has me wrapped around her little chubby paw.
Oh, I’m in trouble, aren’t I?