ONCE UPON A TIME: A DOG MOVES IN...

The temperatures have been so cold that my mind has sought warmer times to magically keep my typing fingers from dropping off between consonants and the space bar.
On Friday as I was writing some piece of work that would be better off shredded, my mind wandered to warmer times at the State Fair of Texas through the years.
This photograph, perfect for this edition of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie & Napping Cats Nap, may demonstrate what inspired my mind to go back to visits at the Children’s Petting zoo at the State Fair. I’d frequently see a momma sow on her side snorting and snoozing while the kids had lunch.

This, however, is not a State Fair pig.
This is my wonderful companion, Porche Noel, found on the front porch at Christmas in 2009.
I think I know what happened in this writing process. I was typing madly about something when the sound of a snoozing sow began to fill the room.
I thought, “We don’t have a pig yet, do we?” 
And I turned to see Porche, out like a noisy light on her small “Magic Carpet of Comfort and Contemplation.”

Sometimes she sleeps next ot my office chair on the big Psychedelic Carpet of Grand Illusions and Magnifications of Triumphant Joy. I think that’s what she’s calling it this week.
When we first got this girl she was a mess. She’d been starved.
In fact, she came onto the front porch by squeezing through the burglar bars on the porch gate. She then ate ALL of the daily buffet we put out for the feral cat colony, then discovered she’d grown so much wider so quickly that should exit via the way she came in.
There was only one thing to do — open the front door and invite her in.
She’s been with us ever since.
And, by “with us” I mean that after she finally settled down and realized our other dogs and cats were not going to kill her, she became a wonderfully loving, well-behaved, philosophical canine companion. Those first weeks were tough — she was food focused and would fight anybody who even glanced through her carrier door at her food bowl. We had to be careful. She was worth the trouble.
I don’t know what her family tree shows, but to track her origin, it’ll take more branches than a Texas bank. Her first vet, the wonderful Dr. Vladi DeJong (Rest his soul —I miss his laughter), looked at her and said, “Ah, a pit bull wannabe.” None of us could guess the breeds! 
When she arrived at our house she was walking with a pronounced limp. Through the years it got better — Vladi said that at some point she’d probably develop arthritis in her back legs from the “on-purpose trauma” she’d experienced. Sure enough, she’s got it now. 
But this little dog still is game enough to try to outrun dogs and squirrels in the yard. The joy in her heart makes her fun to watch. 
Ironically, she needs help getting onto the couch to nap. So, my sweetspouse Martha bought her a ramp. Porche has to be retrained on “ramp usage” about once every two weeks. She tends to forget things when she sleeps.
(Martha also bought small quilt box for the foot of our bed so Porche can take easy steps onto it and then onto the big bed. I’m not sure what Porche’s Sleep Number is — but she’s never had insomnia. That's the face I frequently see between me and Martha when Porche is into full-on tranquil slumber at 3 in the morning.
She’s a Canus Suresleeperus — using my distant ancestors’ Latin lingo to specify her scientific designation. She has never had to be retrained to drop off like a piglet after having lunch in Mom’s pen at the fair. That's a mom and the kids from the 2019 State Fair.
So, back to Porche -- just another dumped Dallas street dog who became a household treasure.
If I could find the guy who kicked her all those years ago, he wouldn’t be able to feel his back feet, either. Would such a jerk have back feet? Of course, he would! All asses have back feet.
Pardon my French. But I love this dog. After she realized nobody at our house was going to hurt her, she chose her permanent sleeping spot — in the big middle of the human’s bed, right between her two humans.
Frequently, our last words of an evening are dramatically, “I love you dear. Oh, come on Porche, move over, for crying out loud.”
And that, folks, is how a beaten-up, starving, dumped-in-a-Dallas neighborhood dog became a nocturnal comfort. She retrained her humans.
That's her keeping Martha company during a couch nap! Good dog, Porche. Good dog.

 [DEAR READERS: Please tells us about your dogs and cats and any other animals that nod off at your place!  (That's a mom and piglets from the 2014 State Fair -- I think Porche might have studied the body positioning to enhance her own ability to sleep anywhere!] Send photos of your family critters catching a few winks -- [email protected] -- and we’ll spotlight ‘em in our weekend feature, Let Sleeping Dogs Lie & Napping Cats Nap. You may be helping other humans make room in their hearts for a companion that become a “member of the family.” And you’ll be helping insomniacs realize they, too, can get some sleep if they can just figure out how to approximate the snorting and slobbering of a sow at the fair!]
— Offer sleeping tips or waking advice by clicking on ‘comment’ below or by emailing [email protected] and put ‘JUST TURN OFF THE TV AND CLOSE YOUR EYES, SLEEPY’ in the subject line. —