Years ago, when my daughter was little, I remember thinking that one day she would be an adult and then I would be able to sleep in on the weekends.
She’s all grown up, and yet my husband and I still find ourselves awakened, usually in the pre-dawn hours, every Saturday and Sunday. That’s because we have four-legged toddlers now.
And? They are never going to grow up.
This past Saturday morning, I was awakend just before 5 a.m. by Coral’s wet nose in my face. I rubbed her ears for a few minutes and told her to go back to her bed. She didn’t move. I peeled my eyes open to see that our other greyhound, Melissa, had taken over Cora’s preferred bed, leaving Melissa’s usual sleeping spot as the only one open.
And that bed, despite the fact it’s a memory foam orthopedic mattress on top of another fluffy pillow, is apparently not acceptable to Coral.
Trying to cause as little disruption as possible — thus hoping to get back to sleep — I made the mistake many parents make when awakened by a resltess child: I invited Coral to hop into bed with my husband and me.
So 65 pounds of long legs and lean muscle mass snuggles right in between Phil and myself. I closed my eyes and tried to resume my much-needed slumber.
Within 10 minutes, the sprawl began, as Coral’s back leaned into Phil, pushing him to the edge of the bed. He tried to push back, but a sprawling greyhound is pretty close to an immovable object.
Within 15 minutes, I realized Coral would need to have her toenails clipped later that day as her front paw was wedged pretty firmly in my ear.
By 5:30 a.m., Melissa became uncomfortable in Coral’s bean-bag bed and got up to re-fluff it. For 10 minutes, this dog waltzed on that rustling pillow like she was auditioning for “Dancing with the Stars.”
“Melissa!”, I mumbled, “For crying out loud, lay down!” And she did…finally…with a loud whine.
Coral, still not content with the amount of landscape she had claimed on a queen-size mattress that already held two chubby humans, deposited one of her hind legs squarely in my back, thus giving her the leverage to push Phil just a little more toward his edge of the bed.
Minutes later, when I heard the familiar sound of our cat Thai’s paws scaping at our closed bedroom door, I gave up.
Well, at least we can sleep in on vacations, I told myself as I sipped my coffee at 6 a.m.