Lesson Learned · Life · The Bustache · VW Bus

If Only I was More Like a Dog

Steve is out of town on a business trip.

In Paris.

PARIS.  Insert sad/jealous/bitterbuttryingtobehappyforhim face.  :-$

(Note – in case  you are a stalker, may I remind you that my cross-fitting, 6’2″, MALE roommate is still in the house.  And I have a scary 85 lbs dog who will, at the very least, get slobber all over you with incessant licking.  And I have Carole from YesWeCanCampervan visiting (another post about that coming soon).  I’m certain, among her many talents, is the proficient knowledge of Karate.  SO, in case you were thinking about taking this opportunity to kidnap me, think again.  I am in good company and well protected.)

When Steve’s gone more than a night, Westi seems to sense my loneliness (I doubt this has anything to do with me walking aimlessly around the house whining, “I’m soooo looonelyyyyy.”).

She becomes very attached, following me EVERYWHERE.  Kitchen – check.  Laundry Room – check.  Bathroom – check.  She rarely leaves my side.

It is nice.  It is comforting.  It is very cute.

One of the only perks about Steve’s absence is that I get to sleep with Westi, in our bed, all night long.  Normally, this is impossible due to the fact that our bed is not the size of the moon.  A queen does not come close to accommodating 2 adults and a beast.

Take this scene as proof of point:

Were does Sierra go?
But they are cute, aren't they?

When Steve isn’t taking up his side of the bed, Westi and I can*just* fit.  She curls up in “little” ball, snuggles up against me, and we drift-off into a nice sleep. Well, at least I do.  Because it seems that after I enter dreamland, Westi exits the bed in preference for her mat on the floor.  I, mean, it’s a nice mat and all, but compared to my Temperpedic-ed, down-comforted, pillow-infested bed?  I can’t help but feel a little rejected.

I have no idea why she jumps off.  Maybe it’s because she gets too hot?  Or maybe she wanted more space?  Or she doesn’t like the way I smell (it’s not my fault her favorite place to nuzzle is my armpit)?  Regardless, this is what happens when I awake to find her missing.

I loudly whisper, “Westi!  You come here right now.”  And then, within 5 seconds, Westi hops back onto the bed, licks my armpit and snuggles right back up against me.

We repeat this 2-3 times a night.  And, not once, does Westi ignore me or refuse to join me on the bed.  And not once does she act like this is an inconvenience or that she is anything but happy to make me happy.  Dogs are the best.  Way better than me.

This is especially apparent when I compare her reaction and devotion to mine just 3 short days ago.

The night before Steve left for PARIS,  we crawled into bed, and I began reflecting out loud about how much I was going to miss him.  And, would he miss me?  And what kind of presents was he going to bring back?  And then I snuggled up next to him and held his hand while he read his Kindle, and I proceeded to drift off to sleep trying to enjoy our last night together.  That was until 1.5 hours later when I suddenly realized I hadn’t really ever been able to get to sleep because Steve was still awake, reading his Kindle with the light on.

I am a very light sleeper.  It doesn’t take much to disturb my slumber.  And when I awoke from my restless attempt to snooze, I was no Westi.

“Are you going to bed soon?” I snapped.

“Why are you still awake?” Steve asked.

“You know I can’t sleep with the light on.  Are you going to bed soon?” I grumped.

“Yes.”  Steve said.

And then I laid there for probably only 2 minutes (but it felt like 20), waiting for him to turn off the light, progressively getting angrier and more annoyed.

Finally, I sat up and growled, “Just go down-stairs if you are going to keep reading.”

“OK.” Steve sighed.  “Sorry.”  And downstairs he went.

Awesome example of me being a devoted and loving girlfriend, if I do say so myself.  Way to enjoy the final hours of us being together, huh?  I am sure Steve was REAL sad to leave for another continent the next morning.  I rock.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Try to be more ‘Godlike.'”  Well, after this week, I am going to try to be more “doglike.”  Hopefully, I can take a few cues from my canine companion, and learn how to be a little sweeter, less grumpy and a A LOT more happy to just be with the ones I love.

I will not, however, nuzzle Steve’s armpit.  Line has got to be drawn somewhere.

What do you think?  Any other traits of your animals you wish you could genuinely embody?  Have you ever been to Paris?

(P.S.  Note to stalkers – More bad news.  I actually wrote this post on Monday, but didn’t get it up until today.  Steve just got back into town, so just another reason your kidnapping efforts should be rethought.)

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