I have slept in a lot of places. I want that on the record before anyone questions my commitment to this.
Grass, obviously. Grass is the baseline — always available, mildly damp, never disappoints.
A hole I dug myself, which I don’t call a hole so much as a personal architectural project. Bespoke. Load-bearing.
Officer Obnoxious would like it noted that it is, in fact, a hole.
Dad’s lap, at midday, after a negotiation that took several minutes of meaningful eye contact — front paws only, by treaty, terms subject to his mood and the size of his coffee.
Cruiser would like it noted that he does not understand what a treaty is, but supports it in principle.
But none of it — not the grass, not the hole, not the lap — prepares you for the couch.
The couch is where I go fully upside down. One leg extended straight up, saluting the ceiling for reasons I no longer remember. Tongue out. Ears wherever they land. My entire dignity, on the record, surrendered to a cushion.
Officer Obnoxious has reviewed the footage and has concerns. He would like it stated that this is not a defensible position, tactically or otherwise, and that he has never once let his guard down in this fashion and never will.
Cruiser has been staring at me for eleven minutes. He has not blinked. He would like to know if I am, in fact, still alive.
I am alive. I am extremely alive. This is what alive looks like, once you stop pretending otherwise.
Found my happy place. It might be upside down on the couch. I regret nothing.
Golden Bernese. Land seal. Lapdog (disputed).
A statement from Officer Obnoxious, filed for the record:
I have been awake since 5:40 this morning. I have patrolled the upstairs of the house twice. I have identified one (1) squirrel, confirmed it was up to something, and continued monitoring. I have not once, in the entire history of my service here, exposed my soft underside to the open room in a posture from which recovery would take no fewer than four seconds.
Four seconds is a long time. Ask anyone in law enforcement.
I am not saying Sequoia’s position is wrong for her. I am saying that if the doorbell rang right now, I would be at the door, barking, fully armed with information, before she had located her own legs. This is simply fact. I am logging it as fact.
I would also like it noted that I checked on her twice during the incident depicted above, out of professional concern, and that both times she did not move, and that this was, frankly, alarming, and that I did not enjoy it, and that I would like credit for staying nearby regardless.
That is all. Back to the livingroom patrol.
A statement from Cruiser, as best as it could be transcribed:
ok so. she was on the couch. and then she was still on the couch but a different way. like upside down but also sideways. her leg was in the air just straight up like that is not a normal leg position I don’t think, I looked at my own legs and they do not do that.
I stood there for a long time. I wanted to make sure she was ok because her tongue was out and sometimes that means something is wrong but Hilux said sometimes it just means happy and I said how do you know the difference and he said experience and I said ok.
I did not touch her. I thought about touching her with my nose just to check. I decided not to in case it was rude.
anyway she says she is happy. I believe her. I am also happy, mostly, especially near the leaf, but I have never done the leg straight up thing and I don’t think I would be very good at it because of my legs being the long kind. maybe someday.
she is my favorite sister.