I lose my spot.Ah, yes, Diego loves the bed. He's a pillow hog, loves blankets, and is basically much like a small child. There's a three part begging process to be let up on the bed, and he executes each step with great skill.
1. The Stare
This can vary from pathetic looking to downright goofy, depending on my mood.
My first line of defense: Avoid eye contact.
His response: Loud sighing/snorting.
2. The Heavy Head
Usually accompanied by one paw and loud exhales, he is clearly looking for the sympathy vote.
My second line of defense: "I'll pet you, but that's it."
His response: Shivering. I'm not kidding. He can make his teeth chatter. Loudly.
3. The Heavy Head to the Max
This simply involves getting closer, utilizing the stare from Step 1, and maximizing step 2.
Most important, though, is the addition of the wet nose to warm human flesh technique, which is not ignorable.
There is no line of defense for this.
His Response:
PILLOW.
But when there are two humans on the bed, there really isn't any room left for an 80lb doberman. But he tries anyway. The thing is, he has his own bed at the foot of our bed. Mrs. Socks has no problem sleeping there -- she's a bear when it comes to sleeping. Diego, however, goes through the same process every night.
He takes his spot on his bed, and we turn off the lights. A few moments later, footsteps. He goes over to Mark's side and nudges him. "GO LAY DOWN!" is the usual command. Footsteps again... he even walks over his bed, giving us hope that he listened to Mark. Sure enough, the steps continue over to my side of the bed. But his approach is slightly different when it comes to his mother; he puts his nose as close to my face as possible. Imagine now, complete darkness -- and a giant dog breathing ever-so-quietly on your face. I hold still and try not to laugh as he puts his nose on MY EYE SOCKET. Where did he learn this?? "GO TO BED! GO LAY DOWN!"
And, like a sullen 4 year old, he makes the 5 ft walk to his bed, turns around 47 times to find the perfect spot, and plops down with a loud, disgruntled sigh.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Socks sleeps.
And she farts... loud. Like an old lady should be entitled to.
This can vary from pathetic looking to downright goofy, depending on my mood.My first line of defense: Avoid eye contact.
His response: Loud sighing/snorting.
2. The Heavy Head
Usually accompanied by one paw and loud exhales, he is clearly looking for the sympathy vote.My second line of defense: "I'll pet you, but that's it."
His response: Shivering. I'm not kidding. He can make his teeth chatter. Loudly.
3. The Heavy Head to the Max
This simply involves getting closer, utilizing the stare from Step 1, and maximizing step 2.Most important, though, is the addition of the wet nose to warm human flesh technique, which is not ignorable.
There is no line of defense for this.
His Response:
PILLOW.But when there are two humans on the bed, there really isn't any room left for an 80lb doberman. But he tries anyway. The thing is, he has his own bed at the foot of our bed. Mrs. Socks has no problem sleeping there -- she's a bear when it comes to sleeping. Diego, however, goes through the same process every night.
He takes his spot on his bed, and we turn off the lights. A few moments later, footsteps. He goes over to Mark's side and nudges him. "GO LAY DOWN!" is the usual command. Footsteps again... he even walks over his bed, giving us hope that he listened to Mark. Sure enough, the steps continue over to my side of the bed. But his approach is slightly different when it comes to his mother; he puts his nose as close to my face as possible. Imagine now, complete darkness -- and a giant dog breathing ever-so-quietly on your face. I hold still and try not to laugh as he puts his nose on MY EYE SOCKET. Where did he learn this?? "GO TO BED! GO LAY DOWN!"
And, like a sullen 4 year old, he makes the 5 ft walk to his bed, turns around 47 times to find the perfect spot, and plops down with a loud, disgruntled sigh.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Socks sleeps.
And she farts... loud. Like an old lady should be entitled to.
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