It took me a while to gather the courage to let James sleep unconfined in the bedroom. Between toilet training and the need to chew on everything (just in case it tastes good!), there were a lot of reasons not to. But my head was filled with warm, fuzzy images of a canine hot water bottle curled up on my toes each evening. This, I am afraid to inform you, is a falsehood.
In fact, I am fairly certain at this point, that my dog uses me as a hot water bottle. For the duration of summer he prefers to sleep under the bed. I don't have a problem with this; this is sensible behaviour given the temperature. But as soon as there's a slight chill in the air, the dog is on the end of the bed. Not out of any concern for my toesies, I can assure you. He'll even sometimes, like last night, wait until I've been on the bed for a short duration before joining me. He likes his mattress pre-warmed.
And, his fondness for lying smack bang in the middle of the bed leaves me precariously teetering on the edge. Forget the heating powers of a squishy dog, I'd settle for my fair share of the quilt! So now, not only do I feel slightly used but my toes are rarely toasty warm. And a side benefit of having an unconfined dog in the room is that when his occasional, middle of the night spew occurs, it's now on carpet!
The pleasing image of a loyal dog curled by his master's feet, quietly warding off the cold for the length of the night? Total lie.
On the subject of canine myths, I take great issue with the manufacturer of his worming tablet claiming that 98% of dogs will eat said tablet out of your hand. No conning required. No caniving schemes. No physical force. What bollocks. For starters, I have a Labrador. Fondly known as the garbage guts of the canine world. Supposedly either too unintelligent or just too hungry to bother considering, before eating it, the intended edibility (edibleness??) or nutritional benefit of just about anything not nailed down. Therefore, using this logic, I think I can confidently extrapolate that 100% of Labradors should be eating worming tablets without the slightest hint of duress.
Now, either my Labrador is faulty or the manufacturer is full of crap. I know this because I spend one morning a month cutting up cheese to cleverly smush around a worming tablet, before proceeding to shove my arm deep into a dog's throat. And then repeating the procedure several more times. Each time with a slightly more slobbery tablet. Each time with slightly less hope.
Next they'll be telling us that most dogs are filled with an uncontrolable joy at the thought of seeing their vet! Oh wait. My dog does do that...