I woke up at 4:30 this morning with my butt hanging off the edge of the bed and a mere sliver of covers over my goose pimpled legs. Stretched diagonally across the centre of the bed, her busy paws shoving me away as they flexed in some rough doggie dream was Penny, beloved family pet and relatively good pooch.
Nudging her back to her own side is futile. Once disturbed, she begins a noisy ritual of fluffing the duvet with such vigour I’m surprised she hasn’t clawed a hole right through it, followed by a series of grunts and groans as she attempts to find her perfect comfy spot again. This culminates in a full Chihuahua body slam as she finally heaves herself against my chest like a bag of wet sand.
How can an eight pound Chihuahua take more room in a queen-size bed than a full-size sailor?
My new roomie is reason #327 I miss my sailor and want him home.