I’ve never denied or hidden the fact that Maggie sleeps on our bed.
When I first did a post on it, the percentage of owners who allowed their pets to sleep with them was about 42% I think, though I can’t for the life of me find it in the 5434 posts I’ve written (yeah, I know I’m a windbag, but I have warned you).
I found it reassuring in a way when Maggie curled up behind my knees, or if it got really cold, she’d snuggle in between us, gradually pushing Hubby out, so he’d go in the spare room.
Photo: November 2013 on a bed we no longer have in a house we no longer live in.
That was all well and good when we had the space, but on the boat it was a different matter, as the bed in question was only four feet wide. But we managed and Maggie adopted the corner at the bottom by the little cabinet so that she didn’t fall off (smart dog).
When it got cold, she would wriggle her way up between me and the side of the boat, stretch out to her full length and stay there until morning.
Photo: July 2018 and thus before the latest broody phase.
Tonight, Maggie and babies (all of them) are tucked up under the throwover.
She has nested herself there with the biggest baby at her back, and the two little ones by her belly, snuggled close to her with her paws. She is comfortable, content and snoring.
I am perched on the edge of about a foot as I type, but should I wish to get INTO bed, it will be a case of getting off and walking round the other side. But even then, her backside is so placed that there is only about a foot that side too! There is this lovely big space at the foot of the bed, but does she want that? No. She obviously wants to be close, after all, she’s had a hard day, has a sore mouth and a stiff shoulder, and Mommy here is lovely and toasty warm, better than any hot water bottle as the menopause in a box courtesy of my post cancer meds gives me hot flushes in the night. If Hubby could find a way to harness the heat, it would seriously reduce our winter heating bill.