wettest place on earth

Dexter has now got a paw “thing”.  He licks his paw when he is not eating, barking at the garbage truck going by, ripping a stuffed chew toy, coming or going for a walk.   I apologize.  I am exaggerating.  It is most of the time  not all the time.  And  I think he picked this habit up from Comet. Slurp!

My wife left our bedroom door open yesterday when we went to work.  (I have been closing it generally.  It keeps the dog hair in the room somewhat minimal.)  Getting into bed last night after work, the long commute, and our regular bible study Tuesday night was going to be very welcoming. I was ready to drift off. The lights were out already.

Sheri was already scrunched under the covers on her side.   I few seconds later, I felt a certain “dampness” on the mattress. An indistinct, but I was sure, “damp” was the correct word.  It was right about mid-thigh.

“Oh, I think Dexter was on the bed today. There’s a damp spot I tried to clean up.”

“I noticed that he was not laying on YOUR side of the bed.”

It was late and not worth going into the whole she-was-the-one-who-put-the-puppy-on-her-pillow-till-I-put-the-kabosh-on-that seven years ago blather.  On some things I have the memory of an elephant  but the sense of a gnat.

I slept diagonally across the mattress all night.



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