Sleeping Arrangements

The family is gone to a game Sven is playing in. Jack says he is a damn good center. Rick too. But, they are on different teams.  I wish I could see them play sometime.  I really do.  But it is not possible. Dogs are not allowed in the school gyms, and the game are during the days. Too risky for me to shift and go to a game. I wish someone would shoot a vid. At least I would have that.

I worked late last night on Jack's laptop, with Bella and Flecka at my paws. I mean feet. I kept the fire going. Jack meant to let it go out. Bella and Flecka like fire, here in the fireplace or around a camp fire, such as at the ranch.

I was up so late that I was not on my game this morning when Jack let us out and fed us.  After eating I curled up behind the couch, next to a heat register.  I awoke half an hour later to Jack's voice, saying, "What the hell is this?" He was standing at the top of the basement stairs, holding Rooster, a look on his face that I could not discern between surprise or anger. I had forgotten to put Rooster back outside this morning. 

Piles of laundry are stacked on the floors of all bedrooms.  Sherry does that when pissed, to make a statement.  The intent is for Jack and the boys to fold it and put it all away.  Bailey and Bella like to sleep on the laundry piles. I've tried it.  Too small for me.  

Rick's bed is the best sleeping place in the house.  It is a plush queen and always a mess - sheets and blankets and comforter twisted and tossed all over the place, like some wild animal's den. I love it.  Some days, all 3 of us dogs will sleep there during the day, when everyone is gone.  Bailey even joins us sometimes, but stays toward the head, so as not to get crushed by rolling and stretching dog bodies.  The problem is our hair, which sheds and stays on the sheets and blankets, a tell-tale sign of our trespass.  Usually I will get up and get us all down, and shift with enough time to shake off the hair, to hide our signs. 

Sven's bed is a bunk. It is the realm of Bailey and Rooster, the only pets who can get up there. That drives Bella crazy.

So, the Rooster is out of the bag, so to speak. Jack threw a little fit this morning asking everyone who brought the stray cat in and what the hail did everyone think we are going to do with it.  Sven said it was him. God bless him. Actually, he and Rooster hit it off right away. I saw them. So, no more cat in the closet. But, will Rooster be able to live the domestic life?

Now I am going up to take a nap in Rick's bed, in dog form. Dog naps are best. Human physiology is not really designed for naps. 

Dog note: If truth be known, cats rule the nap world. That is part of their problem.

Chester