When I first started dating my fiancé, she lived in a studio apartment with her dog Hurley. She’d bought Hurley for her ex for his birthday less than a year before, but when they split, he insisted she take her. Hurley is part pitbull, so finding a place to live in the city was difficult. The only place she could find was a small studio. So, in such a small space, the two of them bonded quickly and became best friends. There wasn’t space for a crate or a dog bed, so Hurley slept on the bed with her, usually at the foot.
Then I entered the picture and messed everything up. Hurley liked me, but was confused by the new dynamic. She was a bit jealous of the attention I was getting, so she would sleep between us with her legs extended. I’d wake up at the end of the mattress, but I usually never did anything because who wants to shove a sleeping pitbull? The three of us eventually grew to love this configuration and so when we moved to a bigger space, it was almost impossible to keep Hurley off the bed. After a while she grew to appreciate having her own bed on the floor, but every once in a while, if there’s a storm or if she’s feeling lonely, she’ll still come up. I like to pretend that I’m annoyed, but just between us, I admit that I love it. They’re my family now and they mean everything to me.