My husband’s gone and done it now. What’s he done? The list is practically endless, but I’ll limit myself to his most recent transgression.
He thought he’d be a nice Daddy and let Mini sleep in our bed at camp.
(It’s now Sunday night, 10:38 pm. I started this post, with the above four sentences, Tuesday morning. What does that say about my life? Mostly I’ve been wicked busy, plus we’ve all been sick. Even the Tall Kid, and he never gets sick. So now I have to remember what I was going to say almost a week ago.)
So, the dog. Some of you might remember quite a while I had a crate dilemma. I didn’t feel she needed to go in her crate while I ran errands and such, but she seemed to like it. And I couldn’t just leave the crate door open for her because the cats (okay, not both—just Gizmo) would go and pee in it just to mess with her. Shortly after it because a moot point because one day she flat out refused to go in her crate. Problem solved.
She kept sleeping in her crate at night, though. As soon as I’d set up the coffeemaker, hit the bathroom and grabbed my cellphone for bedside charging, Mini would run up the stairs and scratch at her crate’s door, ready for bed.
But that night at camp, we were feeling minor fringe effects from Hurricane Earl. Mostly just a little rain and some wind, but those make Mini nervous. So Mr S, the sap, scooped Mini up and deposited her on our bed so she could cuddle. With me.
It’s over. The average life of a Shih Tzu is like fifteen years. She’s two and a half. For the next approximately twelve and a half years I’ll sleep with a dog plastered to my back (I sleep on my left side, facing the edge of the bed). She’d probably cuddle up against my chest, but Gizmo (the tortoiseshell cat) sleeps there. (And, OMG, does it suck when she starts to fall off the bed and reaches out with the claws for something to grab onto to save herself.) Or maybe she’d curl up at my feet, but Jinx (the orange cat) is there. Is my husband even in the bed? Who knows?
But while looking back through my archives because I couldn’t remember exactly when we got her, I found this picture. (I’m forever referring to my blog’s archives to remember a date. It’s the last five+ years of my life captured in words and pictures.) It was taken in May of 2008, the weekend we brought her home.
She was so damn cute with the Ewok look. I miss it sometimes, but she hates being fussed over and I hate fussing at her with a comb, so she’s much happier cut short. Plus, it suits her personality and she’s got such a cutely structured little face.
She was quite a little mop, though, wasn’t she?