Every year for his birthday, Dawg gets a new bed. That’s because by the time his birthday rolls around, his bed is usually a clump of shredded material barely covering a flat sheet of worn-out foam. You see, Dawg’s pretty rough on his bed, treating it like a big, fluffy dog toy part of the time, and like a flower garden the rest (he claws at his bed like he’s planning to bury a bone!). He normally only rests on it if he’s feeling really tired or if his arthritis is playing up.
Normally, we take him to the doggie store and let him try out beds until we find one he really likes. However, this year, we found something that looked good in a catalog and ordered it, expecting it to arrive in a month or so, but, instead, it showed up right away. So, what the heck, we went ahead and gave it to him. I mean, what does a dog know about calendars, right?
Fortunately, even though he wasn’t involved in the selection, he really, really likes his new bed. He received it on Tuesday, and has spent all his “resting” time on it since then.
I’m not saying we spoil him or anything, but to tell you the truth, if reincarnation is real, She Who Must Be Obeyed says she wants to come back as my dog…