I had just finished telling the Little White Dog of My Heart the story of The Princess and the Pea. Only at White Dog Ranch the Princess was the Queen and who only knows what the pea was or where it went. I had shut down Bella's gossipy attempt to spin a conspiracy theory about the entire matter.
What we DO know is that sometime in the night White Dog was awakened by discomfort caused by her bed. By the light of the night light, without asking for help She attempted to shift the foam in her sofa bed to ease the lump. It didn't help, apparently.
Steve woke this morning and went into the office to discover it littered with tufts and bits of foam all radiating outward from her sofa bed which now sported a crater in the upholstery. Tizenegy made it clear that HE had nothing to do with the mess as he headed out for the morning break.
Steve came in and sat on the bed. "I am going to wake you running the vacuum cleaner," he told me. "Sorry, but I can't even move in the office without foam sticking to me." "Tiz?" I asked. "No," was the reply. "White Dog." And he told me the story before bringing her over to cuddle on the bed while he cleaned up.
"You are not in trouble," I began as I told the story of the VERY sensitive Princess.
What My Girl did not know was that we had ordered a replacement sofa/bed as an upcoming Gotcha Day gift and that it was waiting out on the sunporch. Steve pulled out the old; cleaned up everywhere, and inserted the new dog furniture. THEN he wrapped the entire thing in a fluffy soft velour blanket. "She will have a harder time digging through both layers," was his logic.
When all was ship-shape, he carried WD back into the office and set her on the new bed. I think he expected overwhelming gratitude but instead received cautious sniffing and stepping tall. He came into the bedroom, crestfallen.
"Give her time," I told him. "You know it takes her a bit to get used to change. I know once she thinks about it she will be very grateful and comfortable."
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