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Ever since the sausages moved in, there’s been a slight issue with bedtime. As in, they love to sleep with me, but my bed is really, really high for a dog with tiny legs. I have a high bed frame anyway, but my mattress is extra deep and firm with its own built-in topper for my arthritis. On top of that, there is another bamboo topper to support my joints. This gives me a super firm but also a soft base to sleep on, which is great for me but not so good for small dogs. This isn’t because they complain about its sleeping quality, but because it’s too high for them to reach on their own.
Willow, being very light on her feet and also very athletic, could – I think – just about make it but, concerned for their backs and welfare, I didn’t want her to try.
Bear?…no! Never, not even on a good day. With his barrel chest and turned-in feet, he doesn’t have either the build or the ability to jump up. Recognising this immediately, on the day they moved in with me, I purchased a set of three steps that took them to the blanket box at the end of the bed and, from there, a short hop over the footboard to comfort and sleep.
Well, that was the idea. From the moment I installed them, I took them upstairs, placed a small treat on each step, and encouraged them up. Willow instantly stepped up and from there it was plain sailing and a quick hop up step two to step three, then the blanket box and yay! The bed.
Bear stood looking at me with that quizzical expression he uses, grunting softly. He walked around the steps several times, his nose locating the treats where he made several false starts and half-hearted attempts, before he sat down and cried pitifully. Totally convinced that the steps were too shallow, too high, far too Bear-unfriendly, I caved in, picked him up and plopped him on the bed where he instantly rolled over, relaxed and comfortable.
That was then, nine months ago, and I haven’t missed a day (well – night, actually) of gently hoofing bear onto the bed as he stands with his paws up, waiting for my ministrations. But it hasn’t ended there. On our very first night, I learned that nothing except inside, under the duvet, would do. When it came to the morning, there was more to be attended to. Where Willow just disappeared over the footboard and hopped down the steps to breakfast, little Bear stood pacing from paw to paw, looking down over the edge of the mattress, winnowing softly.
“Oh…” I exclaimed. “Sorry, of course!”
Foolish Mummy. How could I think my little Bear could get down on his own when he couldn’t get up? Immediately, I gently picked him up, gave him a kiss and cuddle and placed him safely on the floor, where instantly he raced off after Willow.
And so, a routine was born: my role in the affair clear as Bear’s personal ‘humper’, humping him up and down off the mattress because he simply can’t do it on his own. Well…that’s not entirely true!
A couple of times after we’d settled down for sleep recently, Bear had decided he needed another pee and wanted to go back downstairs to the garden. With absolutely no help from me whatsoever, he extricated himself from the duvet, neatly hopped over the footboard, made his way down the steps and went pootling off downstairs.
Then, the other day, I dropped a bedtime treat after both doglets were up on the bed. Like lightning, Bear was down those steps, pushing in front of Willow to get to the liver sizzler! Ummm, I began to rethink. Of course, if you can go down, you can go up! On one (but only one) occasion, he forgot himself and in search of a Yak milk chew, proved that he can – when he wants – go up and down the steps.
This morning, having brought them down for a pee and breakfast, I went back to bed to read for an hour. Willow was up and in before I’d made my way up the stairs, and Bear was standing, tail whirling and paws up, waiting for his bottom lift. Of course, I obliged, and an hour later, when it was time to get up, I called time. Willow emerged, had a quick kiss and took off. Bear had to be rolled out and moved from pillar to post on top of the duvet as I made the bed. Not thinking, I left the bedroom, leaving Bear on the end of the bed where he had settled down.
As soon as my foot hit to bottom step, he started to cry and yip. Oh my goodness, I had left Bear behind! Well, I reasoned, he can get himself down…technically! So, with this in mind, I decided to stay where I was, call him cheerfully, rattle the liver sizzler box and encourage him to come down on his own. Nah! Twenty minutes later, it wasn’t happening. No matter how much I cajoled, his yipping became more frantic, his crying more pitiful, until I couldn’t take it any longer.
Flooded with guilt, I went back upstairs to see him padding from paw to paw on the edge of the bed, looking out of the door and crying pathetically to me down the hall. Rushing up to him, arms open, I apologised profusely as he rolled over instantly, giving me his fabulous, rounded tummy, his little paws waving in the air. I sat on the edge of the bed to stroke him and kiss his little tummy, which he accepted happily before…like lightning, he jumped up, hopped over the footboard, and raced off down the stairs, leaving me behind, my jaw dropped open.
“What, why, when…?” I was the one left on the bed whilst he was downstairs, happy as Larry with his sister. I’m still grappling with it, but I guess I’ll just have to keep picking him up and putting him down until he decides he’s ready. I’m his mother, and clearly, I need to learn my place and try not to be a little bit…put out!
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