Yes, I am an indulgent pet owner. Yes, I let my pets get on the couch, and the bed, and the chairs. Judge me if you want, but I say, life is better with pets in it, on it, over it, under it, etc.
Beth insists on sleeping in between Glenn and I every night. This gets a bit complicated because Dexter sleeps at the foot of the bed. They have a tentative peace between them, but sometimes Dexter tests the peace and it gets a little hairy (or is it furry?).
In order to accommodate my pets' needs, I squirm and curl up and contort into a pretzel and otherwise adjust my sleeping position to theirs. It gets really bad when Fly, who is supposed to sleep on the floor (she's an 80-pound German Shepard-I have my deal breakers), decides to join the slumber party.
Last night was one of those nights. Fly didn't get in the bed, but she did decide she had to go out, on the coldest night of the season, at 5:20 a.m., and then bark ceaselessly at woodland creatures no doubt shivering and cursing at the cold, cold night.
Who cares, though, right? I mean, when you're greeted with this degree of ridiculous cuteness in the morning, I say it's worth it, pretzel syndrome and all!