Anatomy Of A Night’s Sleep Part 2

A while ago, I showed you all the ways my dog and cat conspire to ruin any chance of sleeping. Today, I’m continuing the series by showing you all the strange and annoying positions my dog sleeps in. The cat is absent here because he’s almost always on my feet.

The Broken Spoon

My dog hates spooning–she’ll actually growl at me if I try to spoon her as I showed you in The Difference Between Dog & Cat:


While she hates spooning, she has to be touching me at all times. This means that she often spoons backwards and upside-down, like so:


Instead of a regular spoon with her back to my chest, she faces me and I get the butt. Fortunately, she doesn’t fart much.

The Yin Yang

Another form of the broken spoon is the Yin Yang. I’m sure you’re familiar with this symbol:


From the wiki: In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang are concepts used to describe how apparently opposite or contrary forces are actually complementary, interconnected and interdependent in the natural world, and how they give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another.

That seems to be my dog’s philosophy since I often wake up to find this:


I’m not sure which of us is the dark and which is the light.

 The Conjoined Twin

She likes the Yin Yang, but she also has a fur coat so she gets warm. That’s when the Conjoined Twin comes into play. It’s much like the Yin Yang, but only our butts are touching like some bastardized and horrific otherworldly twins joined at the butt.


The Asskicker

I said my dog hates spooning, but that’s not entirely true. She just hates being the little spoon. She’s fine being the big spoon. The problem with this is that she dreams and when she dreams, her little legs move. Since she’s the big spoon, this means I often get kicked in the butt.


 The Bony Blanket

My dog is not especially cuddly, neither in personality nor build. She’s quite muscular and angular. She doesn’t make a good pillow. However, I seem to be an excellent pillow since she’ll drape her angular self across my legs. At least once a night, I wake up to find a 66-pound, bony blanket pinning my legs down.


The Hat

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, she will decide that my comfortable bed isn’t quite cushy enough and she’ll lie on top of the pillows on my comfortable bed. She knows she’s not allowed on my pillows, but she also knows I’m asleep and in no position to argue. Whenever she does this, I get a dog head as a hat.


It’s not a very fashionable or practical hat. Thankfully, she spares me the butt though.

The Sumo

My dog wakes me up around the same time every morning give or take. If she is unable to rouse me from my sleep, she’ll just sit on me like a Sumo wrestler. She seems to have exceptional knowledge of the human anatomy because she invariably applies all of her 66 bony pounds right on top of my full bladder.


She always wins.