"Good morning Fluffybutt ... what shall we research today? You are such a cute Fluffybutt ... yes you are, ooh yes you are. What shall we research today? Shall we research Fluffybutt today? Shall we? Shall we?"
If that's indeed how it began, there's one darned good reason not to let the dog on the bed. It's distracting.
In the dim, dark ages there was a very good reason to let the dog on the bed. In fact the more the merrier, because they were used as furry bed-warmers.
Hence, apparently, the phrase "three dog night", which meant it was so cold it took three dogs to warm the bed rather than the usual one ... or two ... although I wonder if it would also depend on the size of the dog, and its hairiness.
"It's a bit chilly tonight Henry, shall we fling on an extra dog or two? Maybe a couple of golden retrievers?"
"Oh no Harriet, that's a fraction excessive, just another greyhound will do."
Personally, I'm happy to just lean over and click the number "3" on my electric blanket control.
And my dogs are quite happy with that as well. Because they are, of course, on my bed.
Where else would they be? In either of the dog-baskets or the padded dog-bed in the lounge?
Heaven forbid! The dog-bed and baskets are just convenient places to chew a bone in the evenings, while keeping a close eye on hubby and I in case we break out the snacks.
When bedtime comes around, or just before, because there's the small matter of nabbing the best spot, they head straight for the electric blanket and the duvet.
There's a hierarchy to spot-nabbing too. As the eldest, and being deaf so unable to hear the other two grumbling at her, Bunnie gets pole position.
That's between hubby and I, so we can keep her warm.
Having a dog on your bed improves your sleep. Or does it? Photo / Supplied
Mungo is next in seniority and while he has bugger all teeth left he's not afraid to use either of them, so he snaffles a slightly lower space between the two human bed-warmers and relegates Hugo to the bottom of the bed.
The humans have no seniority so we fit in where permitted.
I'm just thankful we have chihuahuas so there's enough space and we don't have to sleep on the floor.
And here's where I disagree with the research.
Just after I drop off to sleep the first dog will make its move ...
Bunnie will decide it's too hot where she is, so she'll shuffle about looking for a cooler spot. Here? No. Here? No.
She will stand on Mungo who will wake up and growl at her and, when she doesn't hear him, he'll grumpily storm off and take Hugo's spot, because Hugo's warmed it up nicely for him.
Bunnie will walk over my face and try to claim one of my pillows and I will push her off. Then she'll find the perfect spot and settle down.
It's the same spot she vacated a minute ago.
Mungo has gone back to sleep, but now Hugo is displaced. He decides he sleeps on my chest. I decide he doesn't. After a short tussle he agrees to sleep next to me, but on the opposite side to grumpy old Bunnie. Fine.
I nod off again. Until the cat comes in.
I don't hear the cat come in, but Hugo does and suddenly I'm not fast asleep any more.
Hugo leaps up and, barking, chases the cat out the cat door and onto the front lawn. He keeps shouting threats at it until I get out of bed, lean out the window and bellow "Hugo shut up!"
He comes back to bed.
He's cold now, because he's been outside. He scratches at the duvet, wanting to get under it. I ignore him. Then I tell him what I think of him. Then he scratches some more and I give in.
I lift up the edge of the duvet and he snuggles under. Yes, I agree, he is cold. And he has wet feet.
Then Bunnie wakes up and decides she's cold too ...
I wake at about 5am, tired, with a crick in my neck because Bunnie has my pillow, a crick in my back because I'm sleeping around Hugo, and cramp in my legs because the bottom of the bed has been purloined by Mungo.
If anyone wants an alternative research subject, I'm in. I'll just need to ask the dogs' permission first.
