Georgia is awake! I hear her stirring in her bed by the window. The sharp squeal of a yawn as she stretches. She walks over to our beds, sees me looking at her. Cushion is still fast asleep. An opportunity! I pat the bottom of my bed lightly with my hand. "Come on, Georgia. Let's cuddle," I whisper. Pat, pat, pat, I invite her. "Yes! Come on, Georgia! Up!" My dog stares at me, who is this idiot? Then walks up to Cushion's bed and smacks it once with her paw. Thump. Wake up human. I choose you. I pat my bed some more. A little harder. Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat, pat! PAT! "Georgia! Over here! Come on, sweetie," I say, a little louder. I hope I don't sound too ingratiating. But she doesn't even turn around and instead, puts her head on Cushion's bed, and stares devotedly at his sleeping face. It makes me want to barf.
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Who gets to choose, me or someone else?
3 weeks ago