couch

The owner of the kennel where I work has two Rhodesian Ridgebacks of her own. Since Nyssa comes to work with me, there are three of them hanging around the office most days. They are quite the trio, and true to their breed are always looking for the warmest, softest place to hang out. The owner, being savvy to the unique needs of the breed (plenty of soft warm places to choose from) has two large couches in the kennel office. (Dog beds are so beneath these noble hounds.) But the problem is that there are only two couches for three ridgebacks. This will not do. Being the smallest of the three, and the newcomer, Nyssa must often resort to a leftover corner to get a piece of the couch action at all.

But some days, the ridgebacks just aren't fast enough. Somebody else gets to the couches first.

This means only one couch is left for three ridgebacks ... because no matter how large and fierce the lion hounds, no matter how bold their lion-hunting heritage, nobody but nobody messes with the owners three dachshunds. Not even me. They are vicious little critters.

But this will not do.

This will not do at all.

Somebody has to give. And it is not going to be Queenie or Saffron. They each outweigh Nyssa by at least thirty pounds, although they are all equally matched in that classic ridgeback trait: pig-headed stubbornness.

After a battle of wills lasting eons, Nyssa retreats. Radiant floor heat is of little comfort in the face of such inequity.