Mike and Heather have been talking about getting a new mattress. I’m sure it will take a while to get past the talking stage, but from my perspective, the only thing wrong with the current mattress is that I’m not lying on it enough. That understood, I do realize that I am in proud possession of a bevy of beds that I can call my own.
I spend a lot of my time now in the living room, curled up in what’s always been affectionately known as my Peanut Bed. I’ve had it since I was a puppy, and in fact it’s puppy-sized, much too small for the adult me, all 19 pounds of it. I have to wind myself up tightly to fit inside, or else flop part of my body over the edge, which isn’t very comfortable (or ladylike, for that matter). The Peanut Bed’s location in the living room, neatly wedged between the TV cabinet and a smaller buffet, makes it close enough to the kitchen and office to monitor their activity while providing a commanding view of the front door, from which Heather will eventually emerge. As we say in real estate, it’s location, location, location. The Peanut Bed is in the perfect spot.
Because it’s so small, the Peanut Bed is also versatile. In warmer and drier weather, it doubles as my Front Yard Bed. It’s easy to pick it up from the living room and toss it out onto the front walk or into my exercise pen. It provides a great perch for keeping watch on the street, lest any cats, kids or dogs try to pass on my sidewalks, or park their cars in front of our house or Claire’s house across the street. Plus, when the UPS truck comes, I’m already halfway to the street, barking to make sure my new buddy Craig knows I’m there. awaiting my biscuit.
While the Peanut Bed is currently riding at the front of my Sleep Train, my other beds also have their individual charms.
My oversize Toy Bed is just a few feet from the Peanut Bed in the living room. I rarely sleep in it, hardly at all since the Peanut Bed ascended to its present preferred position. Mostly it’s a holding spot for Wiffie, Ropey, the three Mushabellies and all my other toys. It also comes in handy in the morning and after a walk, when I feel the tremendous need to rub my head and back on something. Toy Bed is a good something to rub on.
My Overnight Bed is a curtained boudoir. Who knows what kind of hanky panky may be going on in there after the curtain drops? Only Mr. Monkey, perched in the corner with his eyes always open, knows for sure. But when Mike exclaims, “Let’s go to bed, Chlo!” it doesn’t take me more than a couple of seconds for me to dart my way inside, spin myself around and wait excitedly for whatever bedtime snacks come next. Then it’s lights out until I hear voices in the morning.
Across the hall is my Office Bed, large and royal blue with a soft orange throw draped over the top, making it look like a promotional item from the New York Mets. It is my designated bed for devouring my daily Frozen Peanut Butter Boney (PBB). Amazingly, I can lick the entire contents of one (or maybe two!) PBBs before any melting, so the orange throw doesn’t get at all sticky. Cleanliness is next to tastiness, you know.
Downstairs by the fireplace is my Traveling Bed. I use it briefly every morning when Mike is working out and stretching. According to our morning routing, I must go inside the Traveling Bed in order to get a biscuit, but since the door is always open, I split quickly, sometimes grabbing a bite at Mike’s nose on the way out. However, when unzippered at front and back, the bed collapses into itself, so we take it with us when we’re staying overnight at my Getaway or in a hotel. I associate Traveling Bed with adventures and good times, so I feel comfortable inside.
I almost forgot to include my Car Bed. I remember when Mike was so concerned about my auto safety that he bought this harness contraption for his car and Heather’s. I wonder if they are still in the trunks of their respective autos. It’s no use, unless there’s an important companion to lean on, in the back, I am strictly a front-seat dog. The Car Bed sits on the front passenger seat, the same model as Office Bed, but older and not so blue. The oversize orange beach towel that sort of covers Car Bed has also seen its day, explaining why both have been relegated to Mike’s aging Mercury Sable.
You might be thinking, gee, that’s a lot of beds for one dog to have. What can I say? As someone who really enjoys a good snooze, I can never have too many places to do it.
And I didn’t even discuss my chair. Listen, while I admit I sometimes fall asleep in Chloë’s Chair, it’s not a bed. It’s a chair. I’ll cover it next time.