27 Comments

  1. They’re not working because you’re obsessing about them, rather than relaxing and letting them work.

  2. Arthur may have the “what” (is going on here) correct @1, but that doesn’t help at all with the “why” (is this strip supposed to be funny).
    P.S. I vastly prefer hand-lettered comics, but it’s only an advantage if it is done well. It would seem that the word “they” is supposed to be emphasized, but this doesn’t work, because there’s no obvious candidate(s) for the opposing counterpart(s).
    P.P.S. Adding the words “… on me” might have rescued the humor (pointing out that everything does seem to work for her dog).

  3. I assume the dog lying on her is preventing her sleeping, even though the dog itself has no problem sleeping.

  4. @Andréa, More dogs or more cats. Yesterday I woke up to find all 5 cats with me in bed, with 3 of them on me and one curled up with me under the covers. Best night’s sleep in a while, although it took me a bit to be able to get up.

  5. I know nuttin’ ’bout cats, except the one that I tried to help, and bit and clawed me and sent me to ER. But if they’re like my dogs, I have one that sleeps always on the ‘getting out’ side, making it difficult to leave the bed, ’cause the others are on the other side of the (queen) bed and weigh several times as much . . . my two-legged girl used to sleep on my pillow, around my head.

    When my MIL once stayed overnight, we WARNED her to close her bedroom door if she left her bedroom during the night. Typical of her, she didn’t follow our instruction and when she came back to bed, there was our 80-pound Airedale, sprawled in the middle of the bed (dogs, when sleeping, can weight three to four times their actual weight if they want to). She couldn’t/wouldn’t move the dog and spent the rest of the night clinging to the edge of the bed. (‘That’ll teach you to ignore our advice,’ I thought to myself.) She told the story for years . . . either as a complaint about our ‘hospitality’ or a funny story about our dog; I never figured out which.

  6. People who use those things that help you go to sleep usually have trouble going to sleep.

    People who don’t use those things usually can go to sleep any time they want.

    Just an observation. I’ve drawn my conclusion; you may draw yours.

  7. @Kamino: “Pupper-weight” has just been added to our household vocabulary. We always have three-dog nights…150 pounds total. Aren’t weighted blankets supposed to help one sleep?

    The issue is now that the dog has fallen asleep on her, she can’t move/adjust herself in bed, because doing so might wake up the dog. And – even though said pupper would fall back asleep easily enough- one simply cannot wake the dog!

  8. Andrea, you nailed it about a dogs ability to weigh more when they want to and you don’t want them to. DId I just end with a preposition? I’m so confused.

  9. @Irene, I used to worry about disturbing my cat (back when I only had one who slept with me) but then I discovered that I couldn’t dislodge him with a crowbar. Even when I managed to get him off me, I had to get up fast or he’d be right back again.

  10. @terrencefeenstra, that final “to” is not a preposition. It’s part of the verb “to weigh,” of which the second part (“weigh”) has been omitted. You could have written “. . . you don’t want them to weigh more,” but that would have been annoyingly redundant.

    Also, there’s nothing wrong with ending a sentence with a preposition. The idea that this violates the rules of English comes from seventeenth and eighteenth-century grammarians who wanted English to be like Latin. English isn’t Latin; it has its own set of rules that are different from Latin, and those rules don’t include the idea that a preposition must precede its object. Another non-English rule from Latin is that one mustn’t split an infinitive.

  11. This comic made me smile, because I have: an INTELLIbed mattress (not ‘smart’, but made for fibromyalgics); neck-support pillow; knee pillow (to keep hips straight); electric blanket (yes, even in Florida); and anywhere from a 0- to3-dog-night. I also have 4-dog-naps, whether I’m in bed, on a couch or a loveseat. One dog on my feet, one behind my knees, one by my head and one on my left shoulder or hip (luckily, the six-pounder, altho I had a 20-pound foster who used to like that place, too . . . I think he helped align my spine during naps).

    And the other half of the bed is dog-less; I may as well have a twin bed.

    No music or white noise machine, altho I do like to keep the slider open so I can hear the wind sough thru the bamboo; very soothing.

    And no insomnia. If I can’t sleep, I get up and get online for a while. Or read. Obsessing about not sleep does NOT help you sleep.

  12. ” I had to get up fast or he’d be right back again.”

    They’re trainable. If I start to get up, my cat scrambles to get out of the way, waits patiently for me to get up, and then returns more-or-less to the spot she just vacated. When I still had a landline, she knew to move when the phone rang, because I only had 4 rings to pick up before the machine took it.

  13. Another of the nice things about no longer being a productive member of society is that if you have trouble with a sleep-shortened night for some reason, it’s not followed by a groggy day at work trying to stay awake.

  14. I spent 5 1/2 hours tonight telling people about sleeping in the 18th century. Dogs are not mentioned in anything I have read about sleep in the period.

    The house we are interpreting was built (in 1730) by a colonist of Dutch descent. In the room I am in is a cabinet bed (also known as a box bed). Not at all common in the colonies, but there is evidence that the bed was in the house and in this room. The room is set up as the kitchen of the house which makes it even more confusing to people as the bed is in the kitchen. (Until 1790 the kitchen for this house was a separate building. Apparently half the house (where I am) was restored to the original 1730 set up and the other half of the house was restored to the 1760 addition and redo of the house – so in 1775 (the year we are in) the bed should no longer be there at all. (Although no one at the restoration seems to know this.) So we have to work with what we happen and work out a plausible and historically correct as possible story line for it.

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