I now sleep with this:
We adopted Duke from the animal shelter, a very subdued dog so it seemed. We came to find out he was coming off anesthesia the second time we met him - he'd just been neutered. We were able to take him home the day we adopted him, and I wasn't ready for that. We had just seen him a couple days before and he had not been neutered at that point. The intention for that days adoption was to set up a transport day to the animal hospital I worked at, that way I would have time to prepare the house for the dog. Once we adopted him I took him straight to my work for boarding.
He was sick with kennel cough, infested with fleas, and had tapeworms. I don't blame the shelter, they do their best - but I still don't know why they would neuter him on a day he was sick.
We initially crate trained him when we brought him home. Too many horror stories at work about dogs left unattended and the things they get into. After a few months we started to trust him sleeping outside his crate - and that is where the battle of the bed began.
I bought him his own bed and placed it near ours. I would allow him up on our bed to chew on a bone while we watched TV and then he would sleep on his bed.
He's a smart dog though. A couple months of good behavior, sleeping the entire night in his bed turned into a challenge. He'd wait... patiently for us to fall asleep and ever so slowly crawl into our bed. After a while I started sleeping with a spray bottle under my pillow so that when I felt him crawl in I could spray him off. This only seemed to make the challenge more fun for him.
When he got tired of pretending to sleep in his bed he would cry and whine and pace around our bed until we let him up. I realize I've encouraged this behavior and gave in to his whining, but doggie nails on hardwood floors can drive you to do some seriously crazy shit. Placing him in his crate didn't work either as that action only spurred the whining to higher and higher decibels, and instead of nails on wood it was nails on metal and plastic as he desperately tried to dig his way to China.
So, I've lost. I now sleep in the middle of my bed, having sacrificed my side to this goofy black dog we decided to fall in love with. He likes to lay right up against me and on his back - taking up the entirety of what is now his side of the bed. I've been kicked in the mouth by unruly paws, licked awake in the morning and body slammed as he tries to lay on my chest. Somewhere in his head I think he sees himself has a 10 pound dog, not the 60 pound dog he is. For as much as he drives me crazy, I wouldn't give him up. He's a wonderfully goofy dog - a shelter dog on top of it all. He's just happy to be here.
