Last night, both dogs slept under the covers. When L came back from using the bathroom, he started patting the lumps on the bed to check that all the dogs were in the room (Rupert had been inadvertently shut out of the bedroom before, when L didn't realise that he had followed him out).
Queeni was easily located, Roop not so. L started patting my side of the bed.
"That's my leg."
He patted another lump.
"That's my other leg."
Now he started smoothening down all the lumps on my side of the bed.
"He's between my legs."
And that's how I slept. Contorted. With one dog between my legs and another pressed up against the small of my back.
Dog yoga, a friend calls it.
Who says I don't exercise?