As faithful readers of the blog will know, I occasionally let the hound up on the bed with me at night. Generally it’s to allay my own random feelings of guilt… sometimes compensatory, other times anticipatory. Tuesday night was one of the latter, and I hauled him up on the bed (thank God, he can’t get up there on his own) just before I was ready to fall asleep. As per usual, he gravitated to the dead center of the bed, which is just SO incredibly selfish of him… he is a horrible bed mate, and tends to sleep with his paws facing me, then spends the night trying to push me out of his way. Damned hound.
Regardless, when I got up Wednesday morning, he wasn’t quite ready to give up his super-special perch, so I left him in the bed. Generally when I leave (even if it’s only for a few minutes to go to the bathroom or something), he will immediately relocate to where I was sleeping. (He does the same thing when I’ve been sitting on the couch and get up — he loves the warm spot!)
So I came back in the bedroom a couple of hours later, and found him laying on my pillows. When he’s on the bed, I spread out a quilt (easier to wash than a comforter) to keep the dog hair to a minimum, but of course, Rags doesn’t *like* laying on the quilt, instead preferring the comforter and sheets. OF COURSE.
So I snapped a few pictures. Notice how he completely managed to stay off the quilt. And, take note of his “Hell no, I’m not getting down, crazy woman!” expression. Silly hound.
