Meet our doggie, Duke.
Duke Diego H., to be exact.
He looks innocent enough, right?? Don't let him fool you.
Duke is not allowed on our furniture. He sheds too much.. plus he is a dog and therefore rubs around in the dirt outside and gets dirty and does not wash his hands enough for my liking and I make the rules around here, so that's the rule. Got it? Okay, there are a few exceptions. We let him sit on one particular chair with one of us, IF we invite him up there. No jumping up there alone. That's not to say I didn't catch him making a little nest for himself one fateful week on the Snuggie I left out on the ottoman (a warm blanket and an unusually casual dog when you walk in the door are dead giveaways), but we'll let bygones be bygones.
To my point.
A few short months ago, hubby started mentioning that maybe we should let our little buddy join us on our marital bed for some "family time." Huh. I wasn't so sure about this idea, but after lots of puppy dog eyes and pleading and extended pros and cons lists, I caved. My one stipulation was that he must lay on some specific towel or blanket, because oh, the shedding.
So now, a few times a week, we will let Duke come up with us on the bed for "family time," aka lounging in bed watching tv. And yes, he definitely does watch tv. However, it is very obvious to us that Duke seems to think that every night should be "family time." If we get into bed at night (and anytime, really), he immediately comes to the side of the bed and starts hopping around excitedly, does a little butt shake and whines. If he gets no response, he'll circle around to the other side of the bed to see if he has better luck with the other parent. Then he'll stand up on his hind legs to get a good look at us and our bed of doggie paradise. Sometimes we cave, sometimes we don't. No big deal, right? If he gets a "no" he hangs his head in utter defeat and pitifulness and sulks back to his doggie (ok, cat) bed and if you just don't look at him you feel no remorse. At least I don't.
I have a heart of stone, didn't you know?
Then last week he decided to pull out the big guns. He had done something similar to this before, but this time he went full force.
After suffering another "family time" rejection, Duke went straight over to my dresser, under which we store the blue fleece blanket (purchased for a measly $37 on the plane ride back from Hawaii) that he lays on when he's on our bed. He proceeded to wedge his fat belly under there and curl right up on that blanket. Then he alternated between staring forlornly at the wall and peering up at us with heartbroken eyes.
Sorry for the scary camera flash eyes.
His intent was clear.
We both laughed at it, after getting over our initial "what in the world is he doing?" It was just so hilarious and sad! But while I was content to let him lie there if he wanted and continue watching Seinfeld reruns, hubby couldn't let it go.
It was as though Duke had shot an arrow straight through hubby's heart.
So again with the pleading and "he just wants to be near us," and here I am having to be the strong parent and hold my ground, with my "but what would you be teaching him if you let him up here now?" and on and on. Finally hubby won out and our poor, depraved dog came up on the bed so he wouldn't miss any of the 10pm news.
Sidenote- this whole debacle has been VERY telling of what our future as parents will look like.
Then last night, he does it again! Only this time he doesn't want to go through the effort and humiliation of squeezing his ever growing tummy under there, so he just tugs at the blanket until it's out and in the perfect position to stare squarely up at dad and let the guilt set in.
Do you think he made it up to the bed??
You better believe it, that little stinker! I have a total mutiny on my hands.
What are we going to do when it's a cute little brown-eyed girl asking her daddy to come up on the bed, or one more cookie or new shoes or a diamond tennis bracelet??
Gaaahhh! I guess I'm off to bedazzle myself a "Bad Cop" baby tee.