Our dog, Snickers, should have been named Princess, for she is no doubt the most revered member of our household. She is adored and loved and treated with honor by every member of our home – even Brad, though he will never admit it. As our resident Princess, she has always slept in a chair in our bedroom, on my side of the bed, so she can keep an eye on both me and the backyard, through the shuttered windows. She learned early on how to lever the blinds with her paw, so she can open the window any time of the day or night, even if we would rather not have sunlight streaming directly into our eyes when we are trying to catch an extra hour of sleep on a Saturday morning. Here she is on her perch:
Today, however, the Princess has been dethroned. After spending some time in bed with bronchitis recently, I’ve come to realize that her chair possesses probably the best view in the house, now that the pool is completed. I decided I wanted to take back the chair, and so I moved her bed to the floor and proceeded to vacuum out all the dog hair and dirt. Then, I sat in it. I found it to be quite comfortable, and worth the battle. And so it began.
First, she came in and just sat there, looking at me in her chair. I told her to go lay in her bed, but she looked disdainfully at her bed on the floor and proceeded to try to jump into the chair with me. I told her to get down and she balefully looked at me, then jumped down, only to lie down right next to her bed on the floor. Just to show me she didn’t have to do what I said. When I got out of the chair, I put a big pillow in it, so she would learn not to get in it as soon as I stood up. That worked until tonight, when at her normal bedtime, she decided this was really a whole lot of nonsense and proceeded to climb into the chair, pillow and all. I had to tell her no, to get down, then to get in her bed. Again, she sat and stared at me like I had lost my marbles. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and when I looked back, this is what I saw:
If the picture is unclear, let me describe it. She’s on my bed, with one of her hind feet lifted up to her mouth, so she can groom it. It was so hilarious, I almost gave her the chair back. Instead, I told her to get down and go get in her bed. She looked at the sad mound of stuffing on the floor…and she trotted off to the living room, to sleep on the couch! I half expect her to try to get in bed with us tonight, but hopefully she has finally resolved herself to the spot on the floor that is her new bed. But I’m not holding my breath. She didn’t earn the name Princess for nothing.
