Let sleeping dogs lie.

You are joking, aren't you?

Me?! Upsetting the DreamyBobos of the 2 x 4-legged buffoons with whom I share a sleeping space? Not a chance, son.

Incidentally, The Human Buffoon has no idea of my nightly nocturnal dramas.

OMG, Ollie, if you stretch one more time, that will be me, on the floor.

The Canine Starfish is an
inconsiderate bedfellow

Bloody dog, forget starving your mogwai after midnight, he morphs into a starfish when the lights go out.  A starfish that gains territory throughout the sleeping hours, whilst utterly unconscious.  I should probably notify some military authority.  They will probably want to perform some 'tests'.

Everyone else, Ollie, in this bed is abiding by the standard, longitudinal axis of the sleeping platform.  This equatorial positioning is, can I say, unhelpful.

2 nights ago, between the pair of them, StripyLongNose (Ollie, the Lurcher/Wannabe Greyhound) & CowDog (CowBitch, strictly speaking but it seems excessively aggressive to go with that, 65kg Great Dane) united in a tag team in order to best ensure I had no more than a series of 20 minute snoozettes throughout the night.

Oh, and they are good.

PHASE ONE - The Dreams

Things kick off with high-speed rabbit chases.  Dreams of high-speed rabbit chases. I do not believe either have ever seen a Little Rabbit FooFoo.

Lovely............

Really? Y'think?

She sleeps.
Nothing is going to stop that

What this means in actuality is The One on Bed yips & whines, whilst the tempo of the chase is marked by kicking & scrabbling with all the feet & legs.  And, when he stops ....

... She picks up the scent. How is that even possible? You ain't gittin'away from me, you pesky wabbit.

Now, She IS on the floor in her own bed.  Yaaaaaay Us, for standing firm on the No, You Are 65kg, You Are Not Getting in the Bed front, BUT it is one (actually 2, secondhand ones) of those nylon canvas FatBoy dog beds.  

I did say her feet were big

The manufacturers & designers, in fairness, couldn't have been expected to know this, or made provisions but ..... gigantic dog claws on that stuff, mid-rodent hunt makes a chuffing racket.

Also, She is no yipper.  So, what I am now trying to muffle out with my pillow are the scratching, clawing toenails AND the low rumbles, that build in crescendo to a series of deep, deep OOOOOOFs.

PHASE TWO - BED CHECKS & PATROLS

Once The Great Chase of Every Flippin' Night is done, we then have the patrolling of the perimeter of the room and the bed-checks.  She, the Big One, needs to be sure I have not a) absconded nor b) been kidnapped.

What we are talking about here are shuffling feet (plus those big ol' toe nails) tippy-tapping round the room followed by big black (status: wet) nose plus short whiskers (status: spiky) with a side-order of jowls (status: jowly) being dragged across my face.

Frequency of Nightly Bed Checks: minimum 2

*Mmmmmmmpfffffff* "Ohhhhhhh, ewwww. Beeeeeeeeeee, back to bed.

At some point, She is satisfied all is well & settles down for the rest of the night.

BONUS ROUND - Ollie has nightmares

StripyLongNose, on occasion, I believe, suffers from nightmares.  Strange dark nightmares.  And when they strike, it is a matter of extreme priority that he gets AS CLOSE TO ME as doggily possible.

He stands up suddenly, makes a beeline for the pillow area of the bed & rakes at the top of the duvet, pulling it back until one of us lifts it up and disappears straight under covers and curls up into a tight ball.

Cue: Deeeeeeeeep doggy *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiighhhhhhh* (if you have a dog, you will know the sound)

The tight worried ball gradually relaxes, unfurls if you like, until ................... there is a bloody starfish (with scratchy toenails) UNDER the duvet now.

This is all getting abit silly now, isn't it?