Blame It On The Dogs/Reformed No-Toucher

Before I get started, I need to share a little background. For my entire life, I've been a die-hard, no-touch sleeper. As in, I can't sleep if someone's touching me. Or breathing on me. Or facing in my general direction. Basically, if you were in my bed, it was best to keep a low profile. And by "low," I mean "borderline nonexistent."

Because The Remix is awesome, he complied. In fact, he dug the idea as his former girlfriend was a cuddle-sleeper.

Side question: HOW can people sleep like that? It's SUFFOCATING!

Anyway, so we're all about the no-touch sleeping. Even when we'd have sleepovers with our first furbaby, Pickle, The Remix and I rarely touched. I think that The Remix secretly missed sleep-touching, which is why he snuggled with Pickle, but I didn't care as long as I had my own space.

And that's how things were until adopted another dog, Pepi, and BOTH started sleeping with us. Instead of just explaining the progression of what's happened, I thought I'd use The Remix's iPad to illustrate.

How it was in our queen bed:

The start of the night. Please note the yellow dividing line. We each have our own zone and things are good. Pickle likes to sleep in the The Remix's arm nook while Pepi prefers to be at the end of the bed.

I toss a lot when I sleep but using a body pillow helps. When I turn, though, little Pepi-Pants has no choice but to move closer to The Remix or risk getting squished by my pillow. That often upsets Pickle, who will move up higher.

So as the night goes on, the dogs realize that being on my side of the bed is a death sentence and they slowly but surely push The Remix closer to the edge of the bed. Pickle is in charge of the upper bed-push while Pepi takes care of the bottom. 

A few weeks ago, The Remix reached his breaking point and gave me an ultimatum: WE NEED A BIGGER BED OR YOU NEED TO GET RID OF YOUR BODY PILLOW. 

"Babe, it's not the body pillow that's taking up all the space. It's the boys!" I said.

"No way, it's totally the body pillow. It's like having a third person in here."

As you can probably imagine, I wasn't about to get rid of the pillow (we've been together for much longer than The Remix and me, so it has seniority). I mentioned that another solution would be to have the dogs sleep in their own beds but The Remix wasn't having that as he has a tendency to give into their adorable puppy pleas. And, like I said before, I think he really likes having the two balls of lava-heat next to him.

So after weeks and weeks of sleepless nights for The Remix talking about it, I gave in and we got a bigger bed.

Side Story: We got our bed at Leon's and when it was delivered, the delivery-dudes gave us a card.

Seriously, Leon's? 

The inside had a stamped message and then some random signature that I'm guessing is their location. Or someone's strange last name. I'm usually all about written thank you cards but this isn't handwritten and, frankly, kind of strange. Mostly because it's from A STORE.

Moving on.

Excited to have more space, The Remix was super psyched for his first night's sleep in our new massive bed.

Just look at his drawn-on smile!

As you can see, now when I turn to the other side, Pepi doesn't really have to move, so that means that Pickle doesn't have to move. Or, so we thought.

By the time morning came around, I woke up, rested from a wonderful night's sleep but The Remix, well...he was quite cranky.

"See, I told you that it was the dogs and not the size of the bed or my beloved body pillow," I said. "They just like to cuddle you."

"AHISOGNIDSO," The Remix responded with his head under the pillow.

The next night, I suggested that the dogs sleep in their crate. Just for scientific purposes, obviously.

"Oh my gaaaaaawd. There's so much space!" - The Remix said as he stretched out. "This is going to be the best sleep ever."

Flash forward to 6:00 am.

"Hello?" I said, reaching my arm out but not feeling anything. With the blankets and pillows, I couldn't see him at all. And with the dogs gone, the sheets were cold.

"Stop poking me."

"Hey, why are you still at the edge of the bed?" I asked, still not sure that I was actually making contact.

"Who cares? I'm so comfy, stop poking me."

"You're really far over. How are we even in the same bed?"

"Are you seriously complaining? What happened to no-touch?"

"Well, I thought it was the dogs pushing you away but you're all the way over there without them, too. Do you not want to be close to me at all?"


"Hello? Are you still in here? Did you get out? Hello?"

"Sorry, I'd fallen back asleep."

"I said, you don't want to be close to me at all?"

"What are you talking about? Man, this bed is comfortable."

"Wanna cuddle?"


So what our early morning conversation showed me was that, in the matter of a single night, the king-sized bed had managed to do the impossible....

It's taken almost seven years, but it appears that I may have become a reformed no-toucher.*

Yeah, I can hardly believe it myself. 

*Except for the breathing - and the facing. Who wants to wake up to someone's gross morning breath? Ick.