#thestruggleisreal

Somewhere over the last year or so Daisy slowly began the work of working her way onto our bed at night. She wasn’t allowed to before. Ever. As in: EVER.

The thought of dog fur on my blankets doesn’t exactly make me sleep at night.

Anyway…as we began to do family devotions and night time prayer in our bedroom on our bed Daisy’s eyes began to stare at us.

By stare I mean she looks into the very core of your soul. Into the depths with intent behind her eyes cutting directly through your being and staying there.

Saying no to her getting on your bed incredibly difficult.

We gave in.

But only for a few minutes.

“10 minutes Daisy. That’s all you get.” Enough time to snuggle with the family while we do devotions. Enough to get some last minute belly rubs in before everyone goes to bed.

Well, 10 minutes turned into 20 and 20 turned into long enough for her to keep our feet warm at night. Long enough for her to “just stay a little longer because look how cute she is.” Long enough for her to sneak her way toward the pillows, crawling so as not to have to move all that much, and maybe, just maybe we wouldn’t notice her getting closer to us if she crawled an inch at a time.  It’s a sorry sight to watch a 100 pound black lab inch her way to your pillow.

Finally, once she was between Jeremy and I with one paw wrapped around my legs she would fall asleep. And isn’t she cute? We’d ask each other. Let’s just let her stay a little longer. She’s cuddly and soft. 

And then she’d sleep. And ten minutes had long ago walked itself out the hallway and down to it’s own bed.

Last night I was at my desk doing some paperwork. The girls were trickling into our bedroom for prayers and devotions. Daisy had come down about an hour before and sat with me as I filed and paid and filed and paid and tossed and recycled and filed and paid and watched Jeopardy. I didn’t do too bad last night and rooted for the homemaker contestant. She didn’t win, but she good.

When Jeremy finally came in to the bedroom and sat on the bed Daisy walked across the room to ME and asked if she could, please ma’am, get on the bed? Insert Charles Dickens type scene with a British accent…

I sent her to Jeremy. “Daisy you need to go ask him.”

She did.

No kidding. She went to the bed and rested her chin on the mattress a slight head tilt upward toward him and eyes begging, begging, to have mercy on her and please, PLEASE let her on the bed. (I’m the one whom Daisy runs to for permission, treats, exceptions to the rules and maybe a bit of leniency on the important things in life, so asking Jeremy was a big deal.)

“What do you want Daisy?” He asked.

She kept staring.

“What do you want?” He asked again.

In comes Anna…”Come on Daisy.You can get up on the bed.”

Yes!!! I knew staring would work! I’m getting on the bed!, said Daisy.

At once, she began to jump but Jeremy said no.

Crashing into the mattress, was her body, along with her hopes and dreams. After she recovered she quickly ran over to me for comfort in her life-shattering ordeal, pushing herself into my leg until she got an “it’s okay Daisy you’re not in trouble” pat on the head.

She walked back over to the bed and tried again to get on the bed, but this time didn’t listen to Anna. Flat out ignored her. She was solar focused on Jeremy waiting for him to give her permission.

The next moments were tense as Jeremy and Daisy had a stare down.

Finally…”Okay Daisy you can get on the bed.”

She stayed for a few minutes longer than ten,getting all the snuggles and belly rubs she needed to last her through the night.

Her struggle. It’s real.

 

 

 

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