Lonely Dog Night

Our big dog, Buster, came to bed with us last night.

In his younger days, Buster and his older "sister" always slept with us.

Then, arthritis made the stairs too difficult. Buster was the first to give in, and we got him a dog bed which we put by the back door of the house. Truthfully, I like having him there -- a better sentry we could not ask for. He's already stopped countless squirrels from breaking into the house.

Ranger, the younger dog, who has insisted to be next to me in bed since I rescued her, lasted longer. Then for some strange reason she wouldn't stay in bed but would lay on the floor. We'd pick her up and put her back but she'd jump right off again. Then, because of the brittleness of her bones (she's 15) we realized the wisdom of letting sleeping dogs lie. Now she's too weak to attempt the stairs and we don't carry her up any more for fear of her falling down them at night.

So it's always a bit of surprise when Buster decides to join us in bed these days. What makes him endure the risky flights of stairs? Was he having a bad dream? Where the squirrels chasing him? Or did he just wake up in a quiet house and miss companionship? Do dogs have the 3 a.m. heebie jeebies where every little thing you ever worried about rises like a specter to taunt you into restless half wakefulness? (and since dogs can't use phones, they can't call Hillary for help).

Whatever the reason, I awoke to a warm mound of fur curled up next to me. One bonus -- when Buster pants, being a big dog, the entire bed shakes, like one of those cheap vibrating beds at hotel pay-by-the-hour. Except with Buster, you don't even have to put a quarter in.

But the need for companionship wasn't limited to the canine side of the family. About 6 am I heard the pitter-patter of clawless feet, opened my eyes and saw two little hands on the side of the bed, and then a blond head came into view as Eli pulled himself up into bed and crawled under the covers between Pappa and me.

So there we were, an aging dog, two aging homosexuals and a three year old, addressing the human and cross-species need for warmth and companionship in the lonely hours of the morning by snuggling together.

If we all didn't have to pee, we'd be there still.