The Battle For My Pillow

Every night, Rusty gets in bed with us for a little cuddle before we put him in his crate. Every night, the time in our bed gets longer and consequently, time in his crate shorter. This happens for various reasons, we doze off, it's cold and the extra body heat is nice, and Ryan has historically had dogs sleep with him, so he's open to it. I, however, have not had this experience in the past, and have been trying to remain firm in my thoughts that Russy should have some crate time.

In fact, a couple of times, he has fallen asleep with us, and at some point in the night, jumped off the bed and gone in his crate himself, which I find wonderful, because it means that's his comfy place where he feels safe and noone can bother him.

But this is not a blog about training methods, this is a blog about a war: a war between Rusty and myself. We've staked out our positions and neither of us want to give way. But I will win. Because I provide the food.

The battle wages like this: at night, when we get in bed, Rusty wants someone to lift him in the bed, it's a little high for him still, and he sits on my side of the bed waiting. He weighs 20 pounds now, so I can no longer pick him up with one hand while still laying down, so I have to sit up and reach down and get him. I toss him on the bed and race to get my head back on the pillow. Rusty lands on the bed and races to sprawl across my pillow, rendering it useless to said head.

If he beats me, I move him off, and he seemingly acquiesces. We snuggle in for the night, and he sllooowwwly starts creeping back up to my pillow, laying his head directly on my head, scooting his back into my face until he has more pillow than I do, or getting face to face with me on the pillow, thereby getting his itchy long whiskers all over me. All the while, the Cat is laying directly on top of me, becuase he is refusing to give up his sleeping territory to some smelly dog.

Ryan is just fine on his side of the bed, just hunky dory snoozing away over there, pleased as pie that Rusty is keeping him warm. I, however, am covered by animals, twisted in pretzel-like positions to work around them, and wake with a kink in my neck. He's just so cute right now it is hard to remain resolute, and I've always been a sucker for the cat, but I sleep poorly as it is, I can't have a farm on my half of the bed. The proverbial foot is coming down.