I lay in bed staring at the dark ceiling and feeling like a real grouch. I blame stress and sleep deprivation. Why is it that when I’m exhausted and in need of sleep most, sleep eludes me like a Jack Russell terrier that has run out into the yard with a throw pillow from the couch? Fleegle is a heavy breather, always with the loud sighs, and I’ve learned to tune out most of his snoring, but tonight he’s really chugging away next to me.
I nudge him with my foot. “Fleegle, stop snoring.”
He wakes up. “What?”
“I wasn’t snoring.”
“Yes, you were.”
“How can I stop snoring when I’m asleep when I do it?”
“Stretch out or something. Maybe changing your sleeping position will help.”
He gets up and repositions himself. Now his back is pressed against my hip, and soon he’s snoring again and again I nudge him awake.
“Fleegle, stop hogging the bed. You’re taking up the whole thing and I’ve got like a foot over here against the edge. I’m about to slide onto the floor. Maybe you should sleep on your dog bed on the floor.”
He looks at me pleadingly. “But Raud, I love you.”
“I’m not very lovable if I don’t get enough sleep.”
“How does it sound when I say, stop snoring, Raud? Or, don’t hog the bed, Raud? Go sleep on the couch, Raud? Well, I’m always lovable, whether I get enough sleep or not. Maybe you should lay off the coffee after lunch, Raud, and stop being such a prat.”