Bed Mates

Poppy and Lolly napping

For the uninitiated, this is a pic of my 2 dogs. Poppy, in the forefront, is 6 years old next month. He is full Chihuahua and has papers. I have had him since he was a baby. By far, he is the most affectionate and smartest dog I have ever had the pleasure to know.

Lolly is the one on the far side. She looks like a Disney character, or an ice cream sandwich, or a Jersey Cow. It has been just over a year and a half since she has been in my life. Best guess on her lineage is that she is part Chihuahua part Jack Russell and she definitely does not have papers. However, she speaks both Spanish and English so she is valuable in her own right. Because of her less than stellar past, she dislikes strangers because they were the ones that took her many offspring when she wasn't yet ready. Also, keep brooms away from her. Kisses and affection are now on the positive side of the spectrum. Another gold star in her cap.

When I was very young, I was given 2 stuffed dogs. One was named Bluey (he had blue fur) and the other I named Mac. I still have Mac. This is what he looks like today:

When I look at him, it still amazes me he is here. Through all of the moves and tumult in my life, here he is! He probably could use a few more patches.

Mac and Bluey were my bedtime companions, one on each side. Because of Mac's shape, he was the one that got tucked closest to me, my arm around him, his head under my chin. I even brought them to college with me. That was when, out of embarrassment, I stopped sleeping with them. At first, it was a stressful adjustment for me. I had slept with them next to me since I was very young.

I still don't sleep with Mac. Instead I have Poppy. When we crawl into bed at night, Poppy runs up the bed to my right side and tucks his little head in my armpit, luxuriating in all of the affection I give him. He lifts his head to cover me in kisses, and then he settles down feeling loved.

Bluey is gone but I have Lolly. No matter what side Poppy ends up on, Lolly takes the other. She always has her back to me pressed up against me. I move, she moves. It is like I have a furry magnet attached to me.


I woke up in the middle of the night recently because I was hot. I felt like I couldn't move because I was tightly sandwiched between both dogs. I have a queen-sized bed but I can only spread out on it to the extent the dogs allow. I may as well be sleeping on a cot. Sometimes a very uncomfortably hot cot. I pushed them both away from me a few inches because claustrophobia was kicking in. They were surprised and unhappy about where they found themselves but I felt like an oversized hot dog in an undersized bun.