One night, my tender-hearted husband let our two standard poodles into our bedroom to sleep. All 87 pounds of Max stretched out on the floor beside me. His younger and much smaller brother settled close beside him. Afraid I’d trip over them if I got up in the night, I decided to move them to their usual sleeping spot.
I trudged upstairs with Strider, my smaller boy, in tow and headed back for my stubborn boy Max. On my return, I met Max climbing the steps. Good, I didn’t have to drag him to his bed.
Finally, I could settle down. I strode the few feet to my bed in the dark and fell—hard. Max had wadded the rug beside my bed in protest before leaving. Continue Reading