A rough night for Hairy Truman

I love sleeping with my furry babies in bed with me. Even if it means I wake up with a crick in my neck from trying not to have Trumie's bottom in my face, or a sore wrist from where Ellie Beans curled up on my arm, or sleeping diagonally so as not to disturb Big Link at the foot of the bed - the company while I sleep is worth it.

Last night, Trumie didn't think sleeping with Mom in the Big Bed was so worth it.

About two a.m., I had a nightmare. A snake was slithering up my leg, about to bite me in the butt with its big, huge fangs dripping with venom. I slapped at it, because we all know the way to get rid of a snake with big huge dripping venomous fangs is to slap at it.

"ARF!"

I cracked my eyes open. I looked under my sheets, to see Hairy Truman and the snake/his tail cowering at my feet.

"Oh, come here, Mommie's sorry," I said to him. I took hold of him by his minature arm pits and brought him up next to me.

He wasn't ready to accept my apology.

He wiggled to the passenger-side of the bed and snuffled around, burrowing in my blankets. I fell back asleep.

An hour later, I awoke again, this time to Trumie's insistant whining.

"What's the matter, guy?" I said groggily. I threw my arm out to the side of the bed, patting around, trying to find the lump of quivering dogness.

I found him next to my pillow, where there is another pillow and some extra pillowcases and shams that I was too lazy to put away last laundry day.

Trumie had found the opening of the sham and weasled his way inside, creating his very own sleeping bag. Unfortunately, when he woke up, he couldn't figure out how to get out again. Still half asleep, I tried to help him out. He had somehow folded the edges of the sham into each other, completely enclosing him into the pillowcase. I finally took two edges and gave it a firm shake.

Trumie came rolling out onto my bedspread, eyes wide, as if he had just seen the face of Lucifer and would never pee on my rug again.

"Come on, I'll read you a story to help us get back to sleep." I flicked on my bedside lamp and opened the book. He snuggled alongside me.

"The fisherman cast his line into the water for the fourth time, and he wondered if anything was biting today. He felt a brush against his leg. He looked into the water. A dead body floated by, its stomach bloated with decomposing gases. The skin sagged, the body having been dumped in the lake days before..."