There is a dog dreaming next to me. Her muzzle is nuzzling my thigh. Her paws are intertwined and her back is hunched. She is not a small dog, but she’s made herself small so her presence on the couch is less assuming. As if somehow I won’t notice that she’s breaking the rules about being on the couch.

My indulgence is rewarded however by her tenderness.┬áHer paws press into my thigh too, and as she dreams, she makes delicate grunts, and her paws twitch gently into my legs. She seems troubled, so I gently squeeze her ear. Her twitching slows down and her breathing becomes more regular. We’re a team, doggie dog, you and I. We’re a team.

To my left sits, believe it or not, another sleeping puppy–a puppy in earnest. He is not nestled to me the same way Lindy is, though it’s clear that he’s a fan of proximity, since he’s always at my ankles, trotting along and hoping for an ear squeeze of his own. His dreams are less troubled, more puppy-like. Occasionally his paw slips onto my keyboard. His snout jiggles, perhaps as he retraces his walks around the neighborhood where I’ve allowed him to take long, ponderous sniffs of other dogs’ territory. He is smaller, so he doesn’t need to curl to fit on the couch. Occasionally his back legs pound into the back of the couch as he goes to catch a squirrel, and his head slips gently over the edge so his nose points toward the floor.

Oh, to be a dog, dreaming. I must remember this moment of simplicity, and find it when things get chaotic again.

I’m in a dog sandwich and it suits me. Sweet dreams, dog friends. Thanks for the snuggle.