whose bed is it?



Posting days: Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday.




Hrrrmph. Isis takes the battle of the bedroom to a new level.

It is Sunday night and I am upstairs hanging up clothes and hoping that I can immerse myself in an interesting documentary before I am joined by Hairy One.

No such luck. She arrives just as I hang up the last garment. She walks round to her side of the bed and sniffs the duvet which is covered by a fresh Isis sheet. Then she returns to my side, sniffs carefully and leaps into my space. Which, needless to say, is not covered with a fresh Isis sheet.

“Hey!”, that’s my place,” I tell her authoritatively.

She curls contentedly. There’s a distinct advantage to being deaf.


I insinuate myself under the duvet and Isis. She is not impressed and emits low, rumbly growls. No snapping or snarling though. Gently, I tilt to one side so that she slides off my legs. More low grumbles.

“Look you,” I admonish, “It’s my damn bed.”

Then, feeling that this is very undemocratic, I add, “Dogs don’t need to access their coffee, radio, alarm clock and lamp.”

A dog without conscience, she stretches out her hairy head, snuggles it into my lap and sighs contentedly. She falls asleep.

I sort out extension lead, charger and plug and settle to my viewing.

I can hardly believe it. I don’t need to put the Hudl under the covers. The bedside lamp is still on yet Isis is sleeping: not a sound, not a twitch.

So I am allowed illumination. What unexpected luxury. I can drink my coffee without risk of tipping it over the pillow or into the drawer. And it’s really reassuring to know that I am taking my antibiotic and not a laxative.


Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact kerry@aeza.org or  www.dogwatchuk.c

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2 Responses to whose bed is it?

  1. AmberL says:

    Wow – hope this is lasting breakthrough! I have a king-size bed, and my little one had a “nest” I created with a blanket right to the side of my head – yet every night when I’m ready to climb in, she’s right in my spot and I have to force her to move the foot and a half to her place 🙂


    • Yes, it’s strange how they always want one’s spot. I’m not sure whether it’s just because it’s not theirs, or because they like our smell or whether they’re just doing an alpha dog. It’s not the grabbing the spot I object to, it’s the protest when you try to take your space back.


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