Recouperating with Animals

It has become very apparent to me the past week that the dogs truly do believe that my bed is indeed their bed and I am just an uninvited guest. As I attempt to convalesce post knee surgery the dogs are constantly reminding me that my presence in the bed during daylight hours is not only unnecessary but downright annoying.

There has been lots of snorting, sighing and grumbling as I kindly invite setters to move on over. There is lots of cementing in place as I plead for a furry child to release the covers they have wrapped around them or to move from the pillows I am supposed to be elevating my leg with. There are pitiful stares of disbelief as I remind spoiled dogs this is my bed. My bed.

Of coarse it goes without saying that my bum knee is like a magnet of doggie interest. Dogs want to sniff it, lay across it and nudge it. They act like I have attached a sirloin steak to my kneecap and they can't possibly leave it alone. I keep looking in my post-op instructions from the surgeon and there is plenty of information on how to clean and dress my wounds but nothing on how to repel interested dogs from the surgical site.

The cats have decided that me being bed-bound is really cool as now they are not the only ones who sleep 18 hours a day and they have a captive audience for their antics. A rousing game of bat-the-gauze-roll-across-the-wood floors was my afternoon variety show. My shower chair is not just something to allow me to bathe, but a tiered kitty jungle gym to swat each other upon and under. The strings from my Get Well balloons are the single most exciting thing to ever happen to them.

All grumblings aside, I am so lucky to have all my fur-kids company and their soft heads to pet as I pass the hours. 600 channel options on the television and watching my setters snore is by far the most entertaining thing to do as I heal.