If you look closely at the picture you can see a major point of contention in the wooferderg home. Right under the reigning wooferderg. It’s a heating pad and for a solid week now every time I get up I return to find one of the boys sitting on it. Until today.
Rain has discovered the heating pad.
I have been usurped.
The boys are young, strapping, little comfort noodles who I don’t mind shooing off so I can reclaim the vaulted pad of heating, but Rain is the old bones darling I can’t say no to.
If I even think about scooting her away her eyes psychically link with me and say “what about all those times I was the best girl in the whole world, mom? What about those times? Huh? What about that time you were pregnant and I growled at that guy who dared to get near you? Remember how you and dad laughed and laughed because I’m the sweetest girl ever, but got really protective when you were having my little human baby? Remember how I was protective but still amazingly good because all you had to do was tell me it was ok and I’d stand down? What about all the times I’d howl every time my little human baby cried until you picked it up and I could be sure it was ok? Or how I never ever let my little human baby out of my sight? Hmmm? Are you really going to deprive my droopy face and arthritic body of this treasured magic warmness after all those years of loyalty? Are you going to leave me to spend my geriatric years only moderately warm on the fuzzy blanket instead of perfectly warm on this glorious fountain of heat?”
Of course after a mind meld scolding like that my guilt and I sit down next to her and lavish her with ear rubs and delicate snuggles. Rain demands love in gentle pats. If you don’t do it right she will get up and wander off muttering something about her rheumatism.
Pardon me, I have to make sure the heating pad is still on for the Queen.
It’s a rough life in the wooferderg home.