Big
spoon or little spoon?
Ok,
that’s a bit personal to open with. Let’s shift and consider physics
and puppies.
Over
the years, I have noticed that many dogs have some type of natural
talent for hogging a bed. Completely. As in, I have no clue how
a 60-pound dog can do it, but a single dog is capable of thoroughly
taking over a king-size bed.
I’ve
watched two Labradors do it.
I’ve
watched two Saint Bernards do it.
I
am currently watching two Golden Retrievers do it.
(As
I put that in place, I want you to know, I hear you. You’re thinking
it’s no surprise a Saint Bernard can take over a bed. Fair. But
this isn’t really about the size of the dog and some type of situation
that actually makes sense. Any dog owner that has witnessed it
will tell you about how they can spread out and have paws and
a head and a tail somehow all positioned so perfectly that if
they get to the bed first you are going to struggle to find any
way to get into that bed yourself. They even go completely limp,
which somehow more than quadruples their body weight, then pretend
to be asleep and ignore your please to move. It is amazing.)
Every
owner of a dog has some set of rules. Furniture that may or may
not be slept on. When and how leashes are used. Acceptable treats
and snacks. Rules.
Part
of that, of course, is whether or not they are allowed on things
like the sofa. And, when they are, that means any place you’d
like to sit on the sofa is in danger of being claimed.
(Have
you ever bumped into the annoying puppy excuser? That’s the friend
who, when you’re sharing a story about the dog running around
the house with your shoe or having chewed up your favorite jeans,
proceeds to offer a defense of the dog by exclaiming something
about how they love you. As if presenting to me the idea that
my dog loves me suddenly makes me feel better about seeing her
dashing across the living room with my sweatshirt in her mouth
and a few of my socks with holes torn in the middle left behind.
I mean, after all, she loves me.)
Emmie
wanders around at night. Bed, couch, bedroom floor, drink of water,
back to bed. She moves around by her choices, seemingly deciding
a nice cool spot on the floor is a top destination at one moment,
with wedging right up against you as the best idea at another.
The crazy part, though likely not crazy as it actually feels quite
reasonable, is she loves the abandoned warm spot on the bed the
most. Get up for some water yourself or a trip to the bathroom,
and I can guarantee you she will be sprawled across your spot
when you return.
She
teams up with Canasta at taking over the couch. Three people could
comfortably settle in on the couch with no problems. Except—problem—two
of those spots are occupied about eighty-five-percent of the waking
day.
The
tricky part, of course, is that it does all go back to the love.
Dogs have this tendency to be exactly where you want to go. They
manage to place themselves directly in your way. The part of that
story we probably don’t like thinking about is that this happens
because of how they know us. They know our habits and tendencies,
and they want to be a part of what we’re doing. They don’t lie
down in front of the stove to get in our way. They lie down in
front of the stove because they spotted that it’s what we’re using
and they want to be a part of the action.
In
a twisted arrangement, it’s a massive fear of missing out play
happening directly in front of you, and for the most part we miss
it. We don’t give them the credit they deserve for understanding
us, predicting us, and recognizing our activities. Instead, believing
we’re mysterious and the dogs don’t understand, we almost trip
and then mutter something about why the dog would settle in right
there.
Summary?
The reasons they love to take our spot is very much because they
know it’s our spot. (And there goes the annoying puppy excuser,
nodding and smiling and validated. But wait… wait… maybe not.)
While
they do steal our spots out of a combination of love for us and
a desire for the warm covers on the bed, this isn’t stealing our
clothes and misbehaving. This is a specific action taken because
they have decided where we are going, what we are doing, and how
they can get involved.
I
lost my spot because they wanted me to have my spot.
And
that’s an interesting twist to the story.