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.

Finding the Perfect Chew Toy

Since getting Skippy eight years ago we have tried several different toys to try and teach her how to play. She either seems confused or completely uninterested. When a ball or stick is thrown Skippy merely looks at me, waiting to see what I'm going to do next. Clearly the ball is meant for some greater purpose, and with a little more patience, she'll find out why it was thrown.

Even toys intended for chewing fail to entice her. I've tried one of those ropes with a big knot at one end. I think the idea is that the dog is supposed to chew on the knot while you hang on to the rope end; maybe you throw it too. It didn't matter. Stuffed animals, chew toys, and the like are all politely inspected when brought home, then promptly ignored.

I would have thought chew toys to be more to her liking. They seem pretty easy to figure out. But Skippy's tastes are not so... how shall I say this? Not so "commercial". She tends to prefer more "homemade" chew toys; the occasional pencil for example. Her most recent preference was my wife's oil paints. Luckily I removed them from her mouth before she punctured any.

As she sat there on the couch, unhappy that her new chew toys had been taken from her, she looked around for something else. Her eyes caught the alluring shape of a paper envelope, and then proceeded to destroy it. It all happened so fast. I could only sit and watch astonished that my Jack Russell was completely content to chew on paper because I took away her oil paints. Say that last sentence over in your head a few times, then tell me my dog isn't a weirdo. Or better yet, imagine me bringing home some new chew toys: "Hey Skippy, I brought you home some oil paints and stationary to eat!"

What's up with my Jack Russell?

She doesn't quite look all there, does she?