The unmade bed

Confession time: I don't usually make my bed. I've got all sorts of excuses (not a morning person, don't have time, I'm going to get back into bed and mess it up again...) but the truth is, I just don't usually bother.

That's for my own bed. The bed in my spare room is always made up with fresh sheets; or at least I try. Lately, it hasn't been looking so neatly made up. Lately, I keep finding the bed in my spare room looking something like this:
I live alone; so who keeps messing up the bed?

I found the culpret. The other night I was on my computer, and I heard digging. I called out and told Tula to stop digging, and she did. I didn't think much of it, but a while later, I went to track her down and found this:


Miss Tallulah Belle Poodle isn't as sweet and elegant as she'd have you believe. Her mama was. I met Tula's mama, and she was as dainty and ladylike as any poodle should be. However, I think those genes may have skipped Tula's generation. Or, maybe they just skipped her...

Either way, she likes to root around like a pig in dirt. She especially likes to root around blankets, and toss pillows in the air. And, she's in firm agreement with Winter the cat that cool, crisp cotton sheets are a whole lot more comfortable than the tops of comforters.

So, now you know. You know why my dog knows the command "stop digging" well enough that she'll follow it from across the house, and while out of sight. And, now you also know why lately this single girl has been washing two sets of sheets twice a week.

And maybe... I've just happened upon the best excuse of all for why I don't make my bed.