There's Only Room For One In This Sick Bay

This week has been a tough one for me.  What I'd hoped was just a touch of respiratory flu proved to be a tough case of bronchitis that kept me home from work all week.  I spent quite a bit of time curled up in bed, which Nurse Bunny heartily approves of.  However, in the interest of getting a good night's sleep, I also tried to get myself up and out of bed for part of the day. 

If you're a regular reader of the blog, then you know that I'm not the only one recovering here at our house.  Last week Blueberry broke her toe and is now sporting a rather large splint.  In the beginning of her convalescence, I was feeling pretty bad for her.  However, since she's learned to get around in her splint and the pain has dulled, she's been getting around quite well.

Apparently, she thinks that she has a claim on the couch right now.  I disagree and feel that I need the couch just as much, if not more, than she does.  It's not that I'm not willing to share.  As a matter of fact, two dogs AND a person can fit on our couch.   Provided the dogs and human are cooperative, that is.

I have noticed that Blueberry has been a lot clingier lately.  I attribute it to her not being able to go with us as much as she and we would like.  I also think that she's finally reached a point in her life where maybe she likes more physical comfort than she did when she was younger.  She's always preferred to have her own space to sleep, sometimes even sleeping in the living room while the rest of us are asleep in the bedroom.  I don't blame her -- I like to have my own space to sleep, too.  Still, it seems like she's taken it to new heights this week.

A lot of times, if Blue wants to be on the couch with me, she'll climb up and then stretch out so that none of the other dogs can find space up there.  I can't imagine how I ever found that this was cute.  You may be shaking your head and saying something to yourself about how sweet that is that she wants her time with me and how crazy I am to say that it's anything different.  Well, here's where the problem begins.  Blueberry doesn't think that she should have to share the couch.
I come out in the morning and ask her to move over.  She give me a look from the corner of her eye and then feigns sleep.  A second request from  me results in a snort, which she attempts to disguise as a sneeze.  Finally, she moves over infintessimally and I wedge myself into the corner, muttering about how she's lucky I'm sick and she's injured.  This results in a huff from Her Royal Hineyness followed by her standing up, stretching herself halfway on the floor and half on the couch before she hobbles off, ka thunk, ka thunk, ka thunk, tapping the floor extra hard with her splint as she stalks off to the crate to sulk.  I'm not sure if dogs feel guilt, but they certainly know how to use it against us.

She doesn't stay in the crate for long, though.  Oh no!  Soon, she's back, sniffing me and letting me know I'm forgiven for disturbing her before she will hop back up on the other end of the couch.  The next thing I know, she's stretched out on two cushions, her head leaning against my foot or leg.  I continue to read, or perhaps I'm looking at something on the computer, or watching a little television.  Soon, I begin to notice something.  Darned if this couch isn't shrinking!  Soon, Blueberry is so close to me that I've lost feeling in the entire lower half of my body.  I try to push her over, but I might as well be trying to control the flow of lava.   I get up and limp to the kitchen to rattle the treat jar.  Three dogs appear for treats while Blueberry sits up on the sofa, her ears perked in anticipation of the treat I'll bring back to her.  That didn't go as planned. 

I look at Bunny.  She's laying on the dog bed on the floor, avoiding what she imagines will be another Clash of the Titans.  No doubt she feels that if we take each other out, the couch will be all hers.  Morgan finds a reason to go on patrol.  Lilac yawns and closes her eyes, not willing to interrupt her nap for our silliness.  Finally, I sigh and realize the inevitable.  I am just going back to bed.  At least it's big enough for several of us to share if we all decide to head in there.  I'll fight the Battle of the Couch later.  Sleeping in bed with Bunny and Morgan suddenly seems like a much better idea, anyway.  I guess this way, we're all winners!

We're participating in this Saturday's Pet Blog Hop, hosting by Life With Dogs, Two Little Cavaliers and Confessions of the Plume.  If you'd like to participate, please follow the rules and follow your three hosts, add your blog to the Linky and copy and paste the html code into your html editor.  Thanks again to our hosts for putting on the hop!

Tender Mercies

I like a lot of things about my job, and for those who don't know, I teach PreK.  However, it does have a few drawbacks, too.  One of those is that I work in a germ factory.  We went from some nice, really warm weather to really cold weather, and the germs seem to love that.  So, as much as I tried to deny it through the end of last week and the weekend, eventually I had to face facts and admit that I've caught a cold.  Often, if I can get a lot of rest in the first couple of days, it doesn't last too long and I can get over it rather quickly.

Sunday afternoon, I did a lot of napping and Mr. Taleteller went out to run some errands, taking Morgan and Blueberry with him so I could rest in peace.  Bunny curled up on the bed with me and we had a nice nap.  Once in a while, she'd open one little doe eye and look at me, then, satisfied that I was alright, she'd tuck her nose back under her paws and go back to sleep.  When Mr. Taleteller returned home, I was faced with a rude awakening and Morgan bounded into the bedroom and onto the bed in one flying bound.  Bunny had vacated the bed upon hearing their arrival, clever hound that she is.

Morgan:  Hey Mom! I missed you!  How are you?  What are you doing in here?  Do you want to play bitey face?  How about a wrestle?

Me:  NO!  Morgan, no!  I'm sick, I'm trying to rest!

Mr. Taleteller:  (shouted from the kitchen)  Morgan!  Come on!

Morgan:  Dad needs me!  I'll be right back!

I struggled to get up and out of bed before she could come back to pounce on me again.  I made it as far as the hallway before she'd returned.  Her enthusiasm hadn't dimmed any.

Morgan:  I'm back!  Did you miss me?  Are you feeling better yet?  Do you want to wrestle now?

Me:  No!  I'm tired!  Just let me sit on the couch.

Morgan:  Oh, okay!  Let me escort you there to be sure nothing happens.

Me:  It's five steps from here if I don't have to keep walking around you...

Morgan:  Okay, I'll do a quick perimeter check before you start moving.

I let out a sigh and begin maneuvering my way to the couch.  Am I the only one who notices how much harder it is to get around dog beds when you can feel your heartbeat in your sinus cavity?  Alas, I digress.  I sat down on the couch and Bunny generously offered to hold down the other end of the couch for me in return for sharing the quilt.  Mr. Taleteller had brought home some pasta for dinner and he brought it to me after I got situated.  Soon Morgan was back.

Morgan:  Hey!  Are you sure that food is safe?  I better taste a bite in case it's been poisoned or something!

Me:  Absolutely not!  You do not need spaghetti sauce in your system and we all want to be able to sleep in the house tonight without being gassed to death!

Morgan:  That could never happen!  I'd never let anybody in with gas tanks!

Me:  Nevertheless...

Morgan:  Intruder alert!  Intruder alert!  A poodle is walking down the sidewalk!

Me:  Morgan!  The are allowed access on the sidewalk!  Get off me!

At this point, Morgan was standing on the couch, perched precariously over my legs as she watched out the window.  It's not easy juggling a plate of pasta and fending off an overzealous Shepherd lass.  Fortunately, something Mr. Taleteller did caught her attention and Morgan hurried off to see what he was doing in the kitchen.  Cookie baking requires her diligent supervision, and fortunately it kept her occupied for a good half hour. 

In that time, Bunny and I arranged ourselves carefully on the couch, hiding Morgan's favorite little foot launch pad and thwarting new attempts at supervision.  The whole ordeal has taught me something.  Morgan has the best of intentions, but often things don't go quite as she planned.  While Greyhounds make the world's best nurses when you are sick, young German Shepherds should be kept out of the sick room!