The Grass Is Always Greener and the Top Pillow is Always Comfier (Part Three)

It was Sunday—my night to settle in with the big-screen TV in the family room for my weekly guilty-pleasure appointment TV--Desperate Housewives.

Since my husband can’t tolerate DH (unlike other husbands I know who put up with the silly melodrama for the tacit permission to ogle all those gorgeous women and all that exposed cleavage) he moved upstairs into the master bedroom to watch something surely more intellectually edifying (this was before the debut of his new top favorite, Denise Richard’s reality show, which just goes to show that even my History-Channel-loving, physics-book-reading husband can be swayed by a hot woman with a nice rack, and, yes, he did marry me, after all, but, as usual, I digress).

During a commercial, I ran upstairs to quickly brush my teeth and witnessed a scene more startling than the tornado on Wisteria Lane!

The two of them, man and beast, at peace, snuggling up together ON THE CHAIR!

I wish I had a photo, but, alas, I was too stunned to think clearly about the huge ramifications of this small act.

“What are you doing? I thought you didn’t want Dog on the chair!”

“He really wanted up,” my husband said without a hint of shame or embarrassment about flagrantly breaking his own rule, all the while tenderly petting Dog’s furry, little head. “He gave me that look.” Enough explanation, as I well knew.

It was clear that if we wanted to maintain our consistent Alpha Dog control (and I know you are laughing here), we could not forbid Dog on the chair any longer.

We compromised by allowing Dog to sit on the bedroom and family room furniture as long as it was covered up with an old, red blanket.



We moved that blanket from room to room as we moved--making sure that Dog would understand the rule.

Dog was content for a while, but, like all intelligent, ambitious (dare I say, “ego-driven”?) beings, he wanted more. An adventurer, he was driven by a quest to conquer unexplored frontiers.

Soon, he was not only jumping on the covered chairs in the bedroom or family room, but the living room furniture (which we don’t even let the children sit on unless it’s Christmas!). His final act of rebellion and incursion happened when he insisted on perching himself on the very top of the chair’s back cushion—claiming as his dominion, surely the most comfy, plush spot in the entire house.



This, as you can imagine has caused a whole new set of debates in our household.

But this time, I am not to blame.

There is only one person who could have encouraged this outrageous behavior. Only one person in the entire world who could be so indulgent, so utterly, hopelessly in love with Dog that there are no limits or boundaries at all where Dog is concerned.

If you’re a regular blog reader, the answer is quite obvious:



Thanks a lot, Cameron!