mesu, the spoiled doberman 
By Russ Barnes
I must tell you about the obsession our Doberman, Mesu has about her determination to sleep in or on my bed each night. It’s become a major problem in that I don’t sleep well with her crowding me and pushing me to the side of the bed so that she’ll be the most comfortable. I sleep on a twin size bed. To have a fifty-nine pound Doberman next to me, sharing my bed has at this time reached a point that I have to put a stop to it.
Some months ago I had a long serious talk with her about her sleeping problem. While I sat in my favorite chair I placed Mesu in a sit position on the floor facing me. I made this a very serious conversation and had her full attention. She listened intently all the while. It went like this:
“Mesu, I realize that we have some rather cool nights. I know being up on my bed during these cold nights is comforting to you. You have two beds that are all yours. We keep one beside my bed and the other is in the computer room placed right next to me while I’m working. You have nice warm bedding on both beds so you’ll be comfortable. In doing so, I’ve thought of your comfort.”
“If you remember when we had our previous talk I told you there would be no more sleeping on or in my bed. During the day for your nap I have put a plastic sheet over the bed allowing you there only during that time if you should desire to be up there. At that time I also told you there would be no more sleeping under the covers and sharing my pillow. I’m really sick and tired of you being under the covers with your back to me pushing over to so you’d be skin close. I give you more room than I have. I mentioned your dreaming too. In your sleep this twitching and flinching wakes me. Then when I try to get back to sleep I have to listen to your whimpering in your sleep. Do you realize you have a body temperature of 101 that means you are extremely warm next to me, making me extra uncomfortable? Well so much for the heat of your body. My pillow is another matter. It’s supposed to hold my head on it, not two and especially your head. I’m also tired of waking in the morning having to open my eyes and find myself staring at the back of your head and having your twitching ears in my face.”
“Being under the covers with your head out is understandable, but why do you insist I tuck you in too? I do realize you like your paws in under the covers and I do tuck the blanket in so your paws will be warm too.”
“Another thing: I turn in about 11:00 P.M. and this means not before. I will henceforth appreciate it if you will refrain from bothering me before that time. I could care less if you prefer your beauty sleep before that hour. I don’t go for that constant nudging me or coming to me with that smile you give me. You know, raising your upper lip and giving a smile. I’m not going to give in. You could have waited on your own bed until I get in there to the bedroom. And then, to top it off after I get in bed you jump up there and sit beside me at my chest level waiting for me to move the covers down so you can flop down and get comfortable. You don’t have to look straight at me and squint your eyes. I know all your tricks.”
“I almost forgot. Just because you wake up earlier than Mom or I doesn’t mean that we are going to jump out of bed to let you out. You will stop going to Mom’s bed and nudging her first on one side and then the other, especially you finding a spot of exposed skin to nudge. Your nose is ice cold in the morning and it is not too pleasant to find it nudging. I know, Mom is usually up first and that’s why you don’t work on me too”.
“Just take a look at Juno. All this time he’s sitting watching you go through this wake up routine. So from now on you will no longer be allowed to sleep with me. You will sleep on your own bed from now on, no ands, ifs or buts and no exceptions. It’ll be your bed or the hard floor. Is that understood? No need of wagging that stubby tail.”
This conversation took place about six months ago. It lasted about thirty days. She found that after I fell asleep she learned to jump up on my bed so softly I wouldn’t waken. I would wake in the morning with her head on my pillow. I started to close the bedroom door and place a chair across, but she learned to open the door by pushing. She learned that by starting a trot from the open door and then up to the bed she could do it quieter then if she jumped from a standing position. Even today when I’m in bed she will approach the foot of the bed, turn and look at the open door, go to it and turn and run for the bed. It’s so much easier.
I can no longer tolerate having the feeling of crushed ribs or an arm that was under her body or her butt partially resting on my knee. I wake up feeling like a cripple, or sometimes with her head resting on my neck, breathing on me with her hot breath. These changes will have to be enforced again, right now, tonight. Sandy told me I’m wasting my breath, she’ll be up there as soon as I fall asleep. We’ll see about that.
You can click on any of the titles below to read the essay:
The Doberman and Cowboy ·
September 11 ·
Max the Rescue
· Paws Claws Scales and Tails
· Winter of 2006
· Mesu
· The Eggnog Doberman
· Dolphie