Change is never easy, is it?

For the record, I am mourning the loss of these days.

It is now very clear that I'm never going to be allowed on the bed or furniture again. I let my feelings about this be known in no uncertain terms yesterday. I was an ass, basically. I tested the human pretty much all day. I barked at every dog I saw. I barked at Estelle, our neighbour, and Calais, our canine neighbour. I sulked in the yard and hid behind the chaise lounge after I was popped on the nose for doing that. I lashed out at a man walking toward us in the dark yesterday morning. But, at the end of the day, when it was time to go to bed, I was tired. I just laid in my dog bed and gave up the fight to get into the big bed. At least for last night.

This morning, I considered joining her on the couch for our morning mocha snuggle. I decided, instead, to lay on the floor.

We did have a bit of a snuggle last night. I was sleeping on the floor at the top of the stairs. She came and laid down beside me. She seemed weary, too. I stretched and laid my paw on her arm, and we had a sleep together.

Both of us were tired out yesterday from all the change. I'm still a bit confused by it, and I expect she's missing all the hugs and pets she usually gives me (I'm not missing those!). She misses sleeping with me because there was a warm, fuzzy body nearby; I'm missing it because, well, it's just what I'm used to.

We will press on and come out the other side happier.