
It finally happened. Max has been kicked off the bed, where he had slept under the covers since we got him. He has been banished to a dog bed in the corner of the bedroom. He is not happy.
This is a major change for all of us. The day we got him, we said, "Where will Max sleep?" and he answered the question by diving under the covers. He had slept there since, a furry hot-water bottle on cold nights. And every morning, he would crawl out and stick his big nose in my face to wake me up or, if that didn't work, sit on my head.
Unfortunately, Max was territorial under the covers. He never touched me (I am Alpha Dog, after all), but if my wife bumped him at night, he would nip her. The last time this happened, we decided enough was enough. Max was out.
Convincing Max was another matter. The next night, he jumped onto the bed and I nudged him off. He jumped up and I pushed him off. He jumped up and I kicked him off. (You trying telling a Fox Terrier no.) After the sixth repetition, he stood on the floor, a look of confused reproach on his face. We made him a bed of blankets on the floor and covered him with a bath robe. It took several tries, but we got him to stay there.
We went through this routine several nights and then bought Max a fluffy dog bed. He inspected it and settled down, apparently deciding that sleeping in a little bed was preferable to getting knocked off the big one.
From king of the covers to dog-bed refugee. Poor Max.
This is a major change for all of us. The day we got him, we said, "Where will Max sleep?" and he answered the question by diving under the covers. He had slept there since, a furry hot-water bottle on cold nights. And every morning, he would crawl out and stick his big nose in my face to wake me up or, if that didn't work, sit on my head.
Unfortunately, Max was territorial under the covers. He never touched me (I am Alpha Dog, after all), but if my wife bumped him at night, he would nip her. The last time this happened, we decided enough was enough. Max was out.
Convincing Max was another matter. The next night, he jumped onto the bed and I nudged him off. He jumped up and I pushed him off. He jumped up and I kicked him off. (You trying telling a Fox Terrier no.) After the sixth repetition, he stood on the floor, a look of confused reproach on his face. We made him a bed of blankets on the floor and covered him with a bath robe. It took several tries, but we got him to stay there.
We went through this routine several nights and then bought Max a fluffy dog bed. He inspected it and settled down, apparently deciding that sleeping in a little bed was preferable to getting knocked off the big one.
From king of the covers to dog-bed refugee. Poor Max.
1 comment:
Poor Max.
He will get used to it and I bet will sooner or later love having a place to call his own!
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