Wednesday, December 22, 2010

All I Want for Christmas is My Pillow Back

One of my fondest memories, with both my kids, is resting them on my pillow at night, when they were babies, and listening to them breathe softly in my ear as we drifted off to sleep. I am sure no one could argue that in those moments there is nothing more lovely.

But let us compare that to sleeping with a puppy.

Now there are, I am sure, sensible, pragmatic people out there, who dash out to buy the Cesar Milan books (and read them cover to cover, nodding enthusiastically), and then obediently stick their puppies in their "den" or "kennel" or "cage" at night to sleep. But not me. Z is lucky to sleep three hours a night in his den. Otherwise, I am desperately trying to cuddle him like he's a newborn babe.

If any of you are teeny tiny dog owners, you will agree that their lives are spent mostly living in ridiculously close proximity to our faces. For some reason, we all feel compelled to be nose to nose with these petite creatures every moment of every day, even when they have little pointy dagger teeth, sharper than shark teeth, teeth that could literally tear your nostrils to bloody shreds as you coo "you're so CUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!" at them for the bazillionth time while kissing their right eye.

Because of this constant and real threat to my nose, I took to creating a chihuahua goiter at night by letting Z sleep on my neck. Because see, sleeping puppies do not bite. I even let him do this when he was infested with roundworms...and giardia...and coccidia, even though every roundworm Yahoo thread I read screamed at me in BOLD LARGE TYPE TO NEVER EVER EVER LET THEM SLEEP IN YOUR BED BECAUSE THE WORMS WOULD CRAWL OUT AT NIGHT AND INFEST YOU THROUGH YOUR TORN UP BLOODY NOSTRILS! Naturally he was bathed under the faucet three times a day and pumped full of meds until he was completely well, but, we all know that story...

So for the first two months, I bragged on little Z, because he would sleep through the night and kept my neck warm like a little hot water bottle, barely moving, barely waking up. He was 1.5 pounds of utter and complete ooooey goooey cuteness...

Now he's a 4 pound teenager...

Currently nights consist of him deciding it's time to terrorize his favorite toy, Ms. Pink Poodle, while we sit in bed and watch our favorite shows. He is not sure if he wants to have itty bitty pink ChiPoodles with Ms. Pink Poodle, or rip her front left leg off entirely and endure me or my husband constantly reaching in his mouth to retrieve cottony stuffing. The whole process is horrifying, amusing at best, but at least he is exhausted after about 20 min.

From here I often stick him in his den, hoping he will stay asleep for the night. There are nights he sleeps several hours, but, there are nights he wakes up completely ravenous, or in desperate need to use his potty park. After addressing his needs, I try to slip him into bed with us, and, for a while he cooperates and seeks a warm space on the bed under the comforter.

But, he is a teenager, after all. He is embracing his inner Alpha...

He wants my pillow.

So, around 4 in the morning, he starts moving around the bed, trying to lick my husband's face and rattling his ears so forcefully I think there is a bat in the room, which is NEVER a good thing for me. With my adrenaline surging, I try to coax him back into a curled-up position under the covers, to which he balks as he maneuvers himself up to the middle of my pillow, and plops right down.

From here, I try to wear him as a hat, but I think he hates my hairspray scent, so he then proceeds to move around the pillow, staying as close to the middle as possible. There is very little possibility for me to share the pillow without having dog feet, or worse, right in my face.

So I decide to put him in his cage.

That goes over VERY well...


Three minutes later he is back out of the cage and nuzzling my neck. It's like he says, "oh! I get it! I will sleep riiiiiiiiiiight heeeeeeeeeeeere to avoid my cage!" And I say, "oh! He's finally curled up under the covers and there are no more frightening bat sounds to contend with!"

I fall asleep, and 20 minutes later it starts all over again.

Around 7 or 8am, depending on the night, I stagger out to the living room with a pillow to endure the last few hours of my much needed beauty sleep on my 7 ft long, 2 ft wide park-bench-200-year-old "couch" (ya know, the one that was infested with alien spider pods? The kind of alien spider pods that make your ears burn and your heart jump right out of your chest while you try to suck every last one up in your vacuum?). For some reason this is when Z decides NOW is bed time, and he falls asleep IMMEDIATELY, sometimes until almost noon.

Amazingly, I manage to sleep without permanent damage done to my neck and spine or being attacked by remnant alien spiders, though I am painfully aware I should have listened to Cesar (or, ahem, my actual husband) in the first place...

Just as a quick side note to this post, I had to stop writing mid-way because Zimmel started vomiting up frothy bile, and walking around the house much like Gollum walked on all fours in LOTR when devising an evil plan. Thank goodness for the hubs and Google, because I was able to deduct that this frightening display of malaise was simply and over-production of stomach juices and bile because he was very, VERY hungry.


Teisha said...

"Now he's a 4 pound teenager..." hahahahahhahaha

And the whole roundworm thing fuhreaks me out. You are one brave soul and Z is one darn lucky pooch.

Kearsie said...

Ohmygosh I want a puppy to sleep on MY neck.

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