As I wallow in my misery, I realized that the love my dogs have for me doesn't always make me feel better. Mostly because they do things like:
1. Steal the blankets. When I dragged my flu suffering ass home from work and on to the couch yesterday, the first thing that Laverne did was steal my blanket. So I got another one. And she stole that one too. How many blankets does this dog need to get under? And how can a not-so-swift dog get the better of me over and over? I'm the one with the thumbs! Pathetic.
2. Wake you up in the middle of the night because they want to be talked to and patted on the head. Seriously. I woke up because Shirley was staring at me. Four inches away from my face. Creepy much? When I opened my eyes her tail started furiously thumping on the bed. I thought she needed to out so I got up out of bed. But she just sat there looking at me like I was the crazy one. I muttered an obscenity under my breath and her tail started going crazy again. This is when I realized she woke me up so I could talk to her. I thought I had two dogs so they could keep one another company.
3. Wake you up at 6:30 in the morning demanding to be let out and fed. Frankly, I expected more from Laverne because she is notorious for wanting to sleep in. But not today. I woke up to her howling at the back door. Howling. The dog has never howled. Ever. Until 6:30 this morning.
4. Panic when it starts raining. I feel like I've been hit by a ton of bricks. I'm hot. I'm cold. I hurt all over. I do not want 100 plus pounds of dog on my lap and in my face.