Monty: Defender, Protector

Monty, looking innocent

Our dog Monty sleeps in our bed.  I know that all of the non-dog people and most of the dog-people are rolling their eyes.  It seems dogs should be sleeping in kennels or on the floor.  Not Monty.  He slept with me from the time he was a few days old.  He slept with my Dad when he lived there.  He slept with me again when Dad fled the country.  He's a bed dog. 

Actually, he's a bed hog.  (Get it?  Tee hee.)

Monty sleeps in between The Guy and I.  He has two positions he likes to take.  One: straight horizontal.  Head against The Guy, butt aimed at me, legs splayed front and back.  Two: straight vertical.  Back against The Guy, feet pushing at me.  He takes up a lot of space.

Now I usually can keep my half of the bed.  Our own personal bed hog means that The Guy is lucky if he can keep a third.  If The Guy moves at all, Monty is moving with him.  Which means, over the course of the night, Monty nearly pushes The Guy off the bed. 

I have been sleeping on my own side, so I didn't really notice how bad it had gotten.  This week I spent more time trying to make sure Monty stayed more in the middle.  To give The Guy a break.

It worked.  The Guy had his half of the bed back.  And instead of being crowded, he instead got assaulted.  The first night, I flung a hand out in my sleep and smacked him in the nose.  The second night, I moved my arm and punched him in the face.  The third night? I brought my elbow down straight on the top of his head at six in the morning.

I realized that Monty wasn't trying to take over the bed all this time.  He was trying to protect The Guy from my flailing limbs.