Sleeping With the Enemy

My last post outlined my reasoning for having Skippy sleep in the same bed with us. This arrangement has effectively eliminated the "clickity-clack" of her claws on the laminate that would keep me awake nearly every night. But it also came with a few strings attached. It would be very easy to look at this through the lens of how I have helped the dog, but it seems more and more that Skippy is fully aware that she is obliging me. She therefore sees herself in a position to have her list of demands met in exchange for her cooperation. They are as follows in her own words:

1. I sleep on my side and don't enjoy my legs all curled up, so I'm going have them stretched out at all times. If at any time during the night I feel like this demand is not being met, I will kick you in the back or stomach. I realize this is inconvenient for you but I'm sure you'll adjust.

2. Those pillow-things that you guys sleep on? I don't need my own. I'm not unreasonable. I'll just share yours; again, I'm sure you'll make the necessary adjustments.

3. As you know, I am a tiny dog and therefore do not generate a lot of heat by myself. Also, I've noticed that you turn down the heat at night. If you are committed to this course of action then be warned that I am equally committed to staying warm. Thus, I will need to be close as physically possible to both of you. If you attempt to move me to another spot then naturally I will need several minutes to dig a new nest to find the most comfortable position. Also, when you fall back asleep I will simply go back between you. I do not have to get up for work in the morning, therefore I care not if my sleep is interrupted at night; I can make it up during the day. You, however cannot, so it is in your best interest to heed this demand.

4. I know that you attempt to dissuade me from licking fabric, but seeing as how I enjoy it and it relaxes me and helps me sleep, I will do this for around a half hour before sleeping. Again, I can wait you out, so I suggest you let this go.

5. Finally, I never snored when I slept on the floor—at least not to my knowledge. But now you seem to have a problem with this. I find this soothing. It means I am getting much needed rest. Therefore I suggest you purchase some ear plugs for the benefit of everyone involved.

"Clickity-clack, Clickity-clack"

The combination of laminate flooring and Skippy's nails makes for the most irritating sound in our home. It is so loud that guests continually comment on the constant clickity-clacking that rings throughout the house when our tiny Jack Russell wanders about. This is a sound that we've learned to tune out during the day so it's nice when others feel the need to comment on how loud it is, and then ask us if we find it annoying. And occasionally, someone will ask us how we sleep at night.

When we first got Skippy, and for probably another five years after that, she slept on the floor by our bed. Initially, she was in a crate because that's the "proper" thing to do, but after your puppy-mill-rescued Jack Russell is so determined not to sleep in that crate that she somehow claws herself free, you begin to rethink what is actually proper. And so a compromise was struck; Skippy slept on the floor in her bed. I'm sure there are many dog trainers and by-the-book owners shaking their heads at me but the decision was made and I still think it was the right one. Then about three years ago I decided that I needed Skippy to sleep in the same bed with us.

I'll pause for a moment to let everyone scoff and heap judgment on me for violating the sacred boundary between pack and pack leader...

I'll reiterate that this was my decision and it was not based on any desire on Skippy's part to join us, although she certainly did not object to the new arrangement. It came about because I need my sleep and this dog felt the need to get up a couple of times a night and stretch her legs. This was almost a year after we got the new house and the new synthetic wood floors. At the first "clickity-clack, clickity-clack" I'm suddenly awake, sitting up in my bed, then trying to guess what the dog wants. She doesn't want out, she doesn't want up, she's neither hungry nor thirsty—just taking a little stroll about the perimeter. Eventually she'd go back to bed, soundly asleep in a few minutes, while I then lay awake for the next two hours. When you're only getting six to seven hours to begin with, this puts a serious damper on your mood and your ability to function the next day.

After sharing my sleeping space with a Jack Russell for three years, I can certainly understand why these boundaries should not be disrupted. I'm getting my sleep every night, uninterrupted by incessant clickity-clacking, but it has opened the door to other minor issues that I'll get to in the next post. Our arrangement is anything but textbook but I think it really comes down to what you can live with. And what I can live with, is sleep.

Extremely Stubborn or Incredibly Lazy?

I think it is normal for animals to move when their personal space is invaded or disrupted. Agreed? Good. So what's the deal with my dog, then? My cat seems to have no problem understanding this concept. When she is lying on my lap and I need to get up, I only have to move slightly and she gets the hint and leaves. Skippy, on the other hand, would gladly stay on my lap until I am almost upright and gravity takes over. It's tempting to see if she would actually let herself fall; but as she starts to slide off my lap when I begin to stand, it's clear that she would rather tumble two feet to the floor than move out of the way.

This refusal to move isn't just limited to lap-time. Skippy occupies a small space on the bed at night, due to her need to get up and walk around on the laminate floor at 3 o'clock in the morning; so we compromise. On more than one occasion one of us has woken up to the sound of too little air being drawn desperately into a small pair of Jack Russell lungs. We then realize that one of us has rolled onto the dog and is slowly suffocating her. Good job, Skippy. Whatever you do, don't move or try to save yourself. We even woke up once to see her wedged between the wall and the bed, legs dangling in the air. Apparently, we had nudged her over too far. She just looked at me, stuck as she was, trying to figure out what happened. Here's some advice, Skippy: move.

Another time, she climbed in between the duvet and its cover to find a cozy place for an afternoon nap. Before she could get comfortable she did that nesting thing that Jack Russells do, but as she was rapidly moving around and pawing at the duvet, she fell off the bed while still inside the cover, and the duvet followed on top of her. She landed in a crumpled ball of fabric. We could see her shape moving a little as she looked around her. There was no visible way out and so she decided to lie back down and continue her nap until she was rescued.

In a slightly related incident, but far less deadly, Skippy climbed into the laundry hamper for a nap while my wife was making the bed. When the dirty sheets were unknowingly thrown on top of her, Skippy did not budge. Why move? We could bury her under heaps of dirty clothes and she would lay there, wheezing, indefinitely. So, what's up with my Jack Russell? Is she so innately stubborn or is she actually that lazy? I'd like to suggest a third option. How about crazy?

Maybe if I'm quiet I could live here.

The Dog's Dead!

Somehow sleeping has been added to my Jack Russell's long list of bizarre behaviours. Yes, she even sleeps abnormally. The most common deviation from the standard stomach sleep is the fetal position; incredibly cute, but not very strange, I guess. It's kind of strange that she can curl herself up in such a compact, tiny ball. Maybe. (I have a great photo of this but I can't find it)

Another slightly more strange sleeping position is when she completely lies on her back. Again, I'm sure that other dogs must do this, but it doesn't make any more normal. All she needs is a blanket to go across her body, neatly tucked under her fore paws, to complete this ridiculous caricature of a sleeping human.

She also snores dreadfully loud when sleeping like this.

The most bizarre sleeping position of all is when she sleeps like we just got her back from the taxidermist. If the first two weren't strange, then this one definitely is. She's mainly on her side, but sort of on an awkward, upward angle with all four legs in the air frozen in stasis. The first time this happened I really had to look twice and make sure that she was breathing, and then exclaimed that this is the weirdest dog I have ever seen. What makes this even more creepy is that her eyes are partially open. How can anything, dog or otherwise actually sleep like that? My Jack Russell does. It's now just commonplace in our home to walk by, glance down and comment as a matter of fact: "Hey, the dog's dead again."

Weird.