Changes...

Don't you think that six months is a bit too soon for changes?  For a puppy who's barely eight months old?  See?  You agree with me.  Want to let Myrtle know that for me?

The ways of her mind are an unfathomable mystery.  Of course, I don't have the time for even easy mysteries, much less complex ones.  So, perhaps I ought not to be proffering my commentary on her mind.  But she does give me a bit of extra angst every now and then trying to figure out what's on her mind.

You see, we've been sleeping together since my first night here.  Oh, she tried to do "the crate thing," as I hear her describe it.  She bought this box with holes on the sides for me.  She told me all about how it was going to be my new sleeping place.  My very one windows.  My own front door.  She extolled its features for a long while, even crawling partway inside and demonstrated how comfortable it would be to curl up for a nap. 

I tried it.  I honestly did.  But every day of my life thus far had included copious amounts of snuggling with one or more of my siblings.  Me draped on them.  They draped on me.  Sometimes I'd go to have a good gnaw on my tail and discover it actually wasn't mine after all.  Mom cuddled with us.  Dad frolicked with us.  But mostly my brothers and sisters all lived in and on and around each other's bodies.  Warm bodies.  Soft bodies.  Snuggly bodies.

Nothing about that crate was warm and soft and snuggly.  Okay, maybe the bottom was sort of soft, but it certainly wasn't warm and snuggly.  I know. I checked it out.  Truly, I did.  Nope.  It was nothing like the sleeping arrangement I had enjoyed for every day of my life thus far.

So, I'm not sure why Myrtle got so distressed over my protestations after she shut me up in the blasted box.  And her upsettedness over the accidents of a personal nature I had during my protestations was clearly uncalled for...if you ask me. 

I protested.  She insisted.  I protested.  She insisted. I protested. She insisted.  Hours later.  I protested.  She finally re-thought that sleeping arrangement and decided that my way of thinking was better.  She brought me up in bed with her.  Warm, soft, and snuggly.  Just the way I like it.  Myrtle seemed to like it, too.

From that first night on, I've been spending my nights happily draped about her person or curled up at her back.  Only now that's all changing. 

We had this great system worked out.  She stayed on her side of the bed, well, third of the bed, and I used up the other two thirds.  Mostly, I needed used the space on the other side of her back, either to curl up there or lie alongside as I draped my neck across hers so we could be cheek to cheek.  Now, that space is gone!

For some reason or another, Myrtle's decided to sleep smack dab in the middle of the bed.  She sleeps cross ways, even.  Well, she intends to sleep smack dab in the middle of the bed.  In reality, she ends up back in her assigned third.  Just when I belive it safe to take up my proper position and settle down curled up at her back, she awoke and lumbered back to the middle of the bed.  This happens many times during the night.

I don't know why she bothers. I don't know why she thinks I'm ready for change.  I'm not.  And from what I've seen, neither is she.  I say, let's go back to the way things were. 

But...whoever listens to me?

I did come up with a great idea though.  I figured were she bone tired, Myrtle might not move around so much, might not be so determined to sleep smack dab in the middle of the bed.  Actually, my idea kills two birds with one stone.

You see, Myrtle's been sleeping later and later in the day. At first, she awoke between 11 and 12 noon.  Eventually, she was slumbering until 2 or 3 in the afternoon.  I know she's determined to be a hermit, but I actually like company.  So, I started sweet talking her out of bed by 11 in the morning. 

Yep, I'm that smart of a fellow.  My soft sell works every single time.  A nuzzle here, a kiss there.  Stretching my body alongside hers before creeping across her body to rest my head on her chest and bat my rather adorable eyelashes at her.  A gentle gnaw on her thumb as I drag it to my silky soft hair to prompt her to start rubbing my belly.   Remember?  Slow and steady wins the race.  No matter how much she'd rather be in bed, Myrtle eventually bursts into laughter, sits up, tumbles me about the bed as she greets me good morning.

So, my duel-fold plan is this:  1) get her out of bed early even when she's been up late so she'll be more tired at night and perhaps seek a change in her life that doesn't involve interrupting my sleep and 2) get her out of bed when other folks are out of bed so that she might could be available for anyone who might want to be making friends with her. Check that...anyone who might want to be making friends with her so that they can have some snuggle time and play time with me.

Brilliant, eh?

This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off.