I'm embarassed to admit that I wake up most days with Rigby on the bed beside me. When I go to bed I let him lounge on the covers while I read, but when lights are out he's supposed to get down, and he knows it. Generally he'll sleep on his mattress by the bed, though I suspect he will occasionally mosey down to the lounge and sleep on the couch.
In the wee hours of the night he'll present himself by the bed. He'll stand there sending telepathic messages until I open my eyes and invite him to join me - which he'll generally do in one single, happy bound - or I'll tell him no, whereupon he'll go off for a while only to repeat the gesture half an hour later.
Obviously there are times I don't wake and he makes an executive decision to join me. Sometimes I get the sense of that, his now good sized frame often pressing against me. You're not at your best and brightest early on - I'm not anyway. Experience tells me that I'm in such a fugue that my resistance is mostly token. Given the choice of mounting an argument and going back to sleep I'll do the latter. In the same way I might sense another body beside me, might in some dim and distant way realise that it's the mutt, but somehow that's where the connections generally end. We'll swap sides like an old couple, he accommodating me, me barely aware of him. Occasionally though a message get's through, hello I think, he's not meant to be there. And so I'll rouse myself sufficiently to let him know it's time to get down. He knows, and with a regretetful glance over his shoulder he'll return to his bed.
Funny though, he's always back beside me by morning again.
