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Tights? Shoes? Treats? Let's go!

We have a few reasons for not letting Danny in our bedroom:

  • He’d hog the bed given half a chance.
  • He has his kennel as a “safe space”; the bedroom has always been the cats’ safe room.
  • Our bedroom is tiny. Really tiny. There’s not room for a 50-pound dog and two people and a mean kitten.
  • It’s not a bad idea to have some off-limits areas. It’s all part of impulse control.

Danny knows that we sleep in the bedroom. He knows that the alarm means we’re about to get up, let him out, and feed him breakfast. He knows that I go into the bedroom to put on running clothes, and he checks up on me to make sure I’m on task (that’s what he’s doing in the picture). Sometimes he and the kitten play at the threshold of the bedroom, but he never steps inside. Sometimes the kitten pushed the door shut on Danny’s head. On purpose. He is a mean kitten.

Danny accepts that he is not allowed in the bedroom, just as he accepts that sometimes I have to work and can’t play tug, and sometimes I will sit in his chair with him and be his pillow while I read.


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