Scribblings

It’s my bed

I give my dogs a lot of leeway in all things. But when I try to move them over so there is room for me in my own bed and they let loose with a soft growl, I think things have gone too far. It’s my bed. I pay the bills. I buy the food. I have the opposable thumb that can work the thermostat. That gives me some priority on at least a section of the bed, right?