There was stunned silence last night when Fuzzy asked if we could head to bed, at eight. I’ve always been the one convincing him to go to bed at reasonable hour, so I was truly shocked.
We have a queen size bed, made of razor wire and cement covered in a pillow top. As you know we’re both pretty big guys, throw a Shar-pei on top and it never makes for a real sound sleep. There is always a three AM throw down. Lately, having drama in his world and issues in my world there’s been enough movement for the dog to stand up in the middle of the night and curse us both out in Chinese.
A king sized bed may soon be necessary. That or the dog may be done with us.