Two Dogs, One Bed, No Dignity
Two Dogs, One Bed, No Dignity I woke up at three AM, which is not unusual. At my age, the bladder rules. It was time to take a bathroom break, return to bed, and then think of something boring until I conk out again. That’s normal. What is not normal, however, is what I saw when I turned over and opened my eyes. Once they focused, there it was, no more than six inches away. I was staring at the business end of my dog, Roscoe. He was lying between me and my wife - and believe me, she had a much better view than I did. I felt like a puppy proctologist. Properly startled and disgusted, I quickly got up and made my pit stop. Upon returning to the bed, I discovered that Roscoe had moved, claiming my cherished sleeping territory. I suppose he thought that possession is nine-tenths of the law. However, since he doesn’t pay the mortgage, I whispered in my library voice, “Roscoe, move over.” He lifted his head, looked at me like I had just suggested rearranging the furniture during a...