The no-lie zone

Ben is a lucky dog. He gets unlimited access to two futons, The Blue Chair, a guest bedroom bed (along with guests who are agreeable to sharing their sleeping space with a dog) AND one queen-sized bed, two adults included, on a nightly basis.

Oh, and a perfectly sumptuous dog bed.


There are only two pieces of furniture off limits to our furry friend -- the living room sofa and chair. We declared these a "no-lie zone" (Get it? Like a no-fly zone? Oh, the humanity!) about 5 years ago when we re-did the room and invested in grown-up furniture for the first time in our lives. We cleverly reinforced the "no-lie zone" with a sophisticated security system consisting of

a curtain rod
and

a book
(subject optional).

Our security system has been extremely successful. In fact, I strongly recommend it. We've had very few problems with errant dog fur on the furniture.

(Well, except for the hairy by-products of Ben's funny morning ritual of scampering through the living room and having a good rub up against the arm of the sofa. This does require the vigorous application of a lint-remover at least once a month.)



But no system is perfect.

Over Christmas, I caved into the pleadings of the NumberOneandTwoSons and declared a moratorium on the no-lie zone for Ben. He was granted permission to join the boys on the sofa through January 1.

It was, after all, the holidays.

January 1 came and went. Sofa/chair security system was re-activated. Until last weekend.

We hosted a pleasant little wine-and-cheese soiree with the neighbors Sunday afternoon and took down the system for the duration. And, of course, in the in hustle and bustle of starting a new work week promptly forgot to replace said curtain rod and book.

Here's what I came upon last night coming up from the basement on my way to bed.


Is there anything more despondent than A Dog Caught in the Act?


Maybe grown-up furniture is overrated after all.