A Dog's Couch

As I prepare to maybe watch the Oscars tonight, I see I am going to have to fight the dogs for the couch.

This is the only furniture they are allowed on (as if that means anything - as soon as I'm out of the room they do whatever they want) but in spite of their diminutive size, they take it up. Worse, if you do sit down on it, they immediately start climbing all over you begging to be pet and rubbed.

And I'm a gal who needs her space.

I am not the huggie, cuddly, snugly kind of person that likes to be licked. And when dogs come up and roll onto their backs waiting to be rubbed, while most people revert to baby talk and say: "Aaaaaaawh - do you wantum some loveys?", I instead think: "Oh please - you should put on some pants!"

So if the dogs are on the couch, I'm on the less comfortable chair. And if I'm looking at some marathon TV (like the Oscars will surely be), I want the couch. They're only dogs after all.

By the way, for those who read about Toby, he's going to be fine.