Bedtime Story

It was bedtime. Learning from my previous visits to the folks, and in anticipation of a rough night of trying to get comfortable with a large dog in my bed, I had already pushed the twin beds together. Because, Ray doesn't want his own twin bed, he wants mine. It doesn't matter if I get up in the middle of the night and move to the other bed on the other side of the room to avoid the dog, he will follow. And sleeping with a 70-pound dog in a twin bed is not something that is actually accomplishable. So this time, I was ready for him. The beds were together and I had a plan.
Oddly, Ray is afraid of twin beds. I would say it was from his previous experience of falling into the crack and being trapped between two beds, but really, his fear predates that. While Ray will launch himself onto any other bed with abandon, when he wants to get into a twin bed, I actually have to get out of bed and lift him into it.
"Jean, why would you do that when you know you won't be able to sleep with a gigantic dog in your bed?" I can hear you asking.
Because if I don't, (I reply) Ray stands at the side of the bed and whines. Then he paces back and forth along the side of the bed, whining and trying to figure out how to get onto the twin bed (I don't know why this is different than any other bed, but it obviously is). Then he jumps his front feet up on the twin bed and snuffles the covers and whines some more. Then he jumps his front feet down, sticks his face in my face and whines louder. Then he repeats the process over and over until I get out of bed, haul his ass up onto the bed, and watch as he curls into my already-warmed spot.
But this time I was ready for him. I lifted Ray onto the bed and dragged his protesting carcass across it to the bed that was against the wall. I then quickly jumped into the other bed and moved as far across it as I could so that I was spanning the crack between the two beds, blocking his access to my bed. Ray doesn't like to stand up on the twin beds, it scares him, so I was pretty sure that I could keep the bed to myself if I could get him onto his own side.
The tactic worked well. For two nights.
On the third night, just as I was congratulating myself on being brilliant, Ray had figured out the plan and was on to me. When I tried to drag him onto the bed against the wall, he resisted. With legs splayed out, Ray had become the immovable object.
I sighed.
I crawled into the bed against the wall, curled up and went to sleep. When I awoke at one in the a.m., my fears were realized. I was jammed up against the wall, a hot dog laying alongside me.
It had happened. I was once again stuck between a dog and a hard place.