The Bed Hog

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I inherited my cat Put from my grandparents, which is why I call him “Uncle Put”.

Since I brought his crazy, OCD, black ass home, he has been a true original – especially at bedtime.

Not only does he have to sleep on my head, but he licks my ear, chews on the lobe, sticks his nose in my eyeball, and wraps his paws around my head, gently cradling me.  Sometimes he even holds my hand with his paw.

As insane as you might think I am for allowing a cat to suffocate me each night, I must tell you how comforting it was after the loss of both my grandparents who were very special and dear to me.

Uncle Put and I found peace in each other.

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Then Officer arrived in our lives.

He was no longer sleeping in a crate after I had him potty trained, and so he logically decided to join us at night.

To see that little piggy jump into a bed was something to behold.

He didn’t make it on the first, second, or even third try, but when he did, he immediately crawled under the covers, down by my feet where it was warm, and went to sleep.

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Uncle Put was not happy with these new arrangements.

The bed was his domain and he wasn’t about to share it with a pig — neither was my boyfriend.

Therefore, poor Officer was booted from my boudoir and resigned himself to his stuffed animal bear bed in his other favorite room – the kitchen.

I banished the boyfriend too; he may be found in his other favorite place Moron, Oregon.

Officer puts himself to bed each night after dinner, tucking in around 7 pm, but since he’s tasted Mommy’s pillow top mattress, he can’t help but sneak in on occasions and bury himself beneath.

Sometimes he accidentally crawls into a pillow case head first; eventually I hear squealing, and come running as I witness my pillow doing summersaults.

Officer’s “pork butt” is hanging out the open end as he determinedly roots forward, not discerning the escape.

I laugh, take a few pictures, and then save him from himself.

During the last year and a half, the boys (Uncle Put and Officer), have bonded and become brothers.

They play, sunbathe together, and every morning Uncle Put gives Officer a bath before breakfast, with his sandpaper tongue; they even sleep together.

This past summer the boys and I spent time alone up in Northern Wisconsin at my family’s vacation home, and by August, Officer was officially sleeping with Uncle Put and I.

Not many people can say they have slept with a pig, at least the four legged sort; but I can.

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Imagine sleeping with a boar hair brush. Not only that, but Officer is cutting his tusks at the moment, so add a rabid mastiff to the equation.

If any of you have seen a pig up close, no matter it’s size, you know how awkward and top heavy they are. All that weight is on those little hoofs.

Not only do I have itchy, bristly boar in bed with me, foaming at the mouth, but God forbid “twinkle toes” steps on anything sensitive in the middle of the night!

At this point you’ve already judged me, and “NUTS” is your only plausible conclusion.

So be it!

Sure, my boyfriend isn’t sleeping with me anymore, but to wake up with a cat on your head and being spooned by a farm animal snoring and snorting in your face is priceless!

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