Prose and Poetry >> Sleeping Dogs
Puppies, old dogs, war
dogs or strays, poetry has power to brighten our days. Dog stories
and poems delight all
who love animals, help us learn more about our
Best Friend and are great to read with your children.
We welcome contributions!
Whoever said "LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE" didn't
sleep with dogs. The first thing you discover when you bring a dog onto your bed
is the striking difference in weight between an alert, awake dog and a dog at
Number One: The deeper the sleep, the heavier the dog. Most people who sleep
with dogs develop spinal deformities rather than rent the heavy equipment
necessary to move their snoring canines to a more appropriate part of the bed.
Cunning canines steal precious space in tiny increments until they have achieved
the center position on the bed - with all covers carefully tucked under them for
safekeeping. The stretch and roll method is very effective in gaining territory.
Less subtle tactics are sometimes preferred. A jealous dog can worm his way
between a sleeping couple and, with the proper spring action from all four legs,
shove a sleeping human to the floor.
Rule Number Two: Dogs possess superhuman strength while on a bed. As you cling
to the edge of the bed, wishing you had covers, your sweet pup begins to snore
at a volume you would not have thought possible. Once that quiets down, the dog
dreams begin. Yipping, growling, running, kicking. Your bed becomes a
battlefield and playground of canine fantasy. It starts out with a bit of "sleep
running", lots of eye movement and then, suddenly, a shrieking howl blasted
through the night like a banshee wail. The horror of this wake-up call haunts
you for years. It's particularly devastating when your pup insists on sleeping
curled around your head like a demented Daniel Boone cap.
Rule Number Three: The deeper the sleep, the louder the dog. The night creeps on
and you fall asleep in the 3 inches of bed not
claimed by a dog. The dog dreams quiet slightly and the heap of dog flesh sleeps
- breathing heavily and passing wind. Then, too soon, it's dawn and the heap
stirs. Each dog has a distinctive and unpleasant method of waking the pack. One
may position itself centimeters from a face and stare until you wake. The clever
dog obtains excellent results by simply sneezing on your face, or they could
romp all over your sleeping bodies - or the ever-loving insertion of a tongue in
an unsuspecting ear.
Rule Number Four: When the dog wakes - you wake. So, why do we put up with this?
There's no sane reason.
Perhaps it's just that we're a pack and a
pack heaps together at night - safe, contented, heavy and loud.