Dog Tale
I’ve started sleeping with a stuffed animal. It’s a miniature dachshund with the words Be Mine embroidered on it’s side. I have no idea who bought it for whom. Me for my late wife or her for me. Most likely she simply bought it because we owned a miniature dachshund at the time name Ernie. I rediscovered it a while back in a box that missed the unboxing when we moved into our house in 2009. I believe the little stuffed dog has improved the quality of my sleep.
It probably has something to do with habit and the habit in question being sharing my bed for the better part of fifty years. It’s a thing you get used to. Granted we didn’t sleep snuggled up except during the early years of our marriage when we used a full sized bed, the frame of which I still have because it was the bed frame upon which my father was born. Over the years we moved to queen and then to king and now I’m back to queen, because space is no longer at a premium. And now I have the little stuffed dog, and it feels right.
It's probably unmanly to admit it. But who am I trying to impress? It’s what’s happening. And I’m taking it for what it is, which is me getting a good night’s sleep. I still tend to wake up around three, but now it’s easier to get back to sleep. Thanks, Ernie. And now that I think about it, maybe I should break out that old bed frame and go back to a full size. More room in the bedroom, maybe for an easy chair. Now that’s more food for thought.