When I was little I got fearsome colds, terrible things that lasted forever and went into my chest and gave me bronchitis with a deep, bassoon-type cough that kept me out of school for days.
Mother would insist, among other things, that sleep was curative. Ah so. I think that part of her treatments was correct.
So that now, when I am getting sick, I sleep.
I went to bed at the unheard hour of 9pm. I slept. Not steadily, but well enough. I took my Zicam whenever I got up to attend to the reason for waking. I kept Kleenex by the bed (Mother said if you had it with you you wouldn't need it. She was wrong, but I cling to the hope.)
At 5:30 I was awakened by the needs of the Hounds. Actually, Cooper came and got me up.
I felt better but not well. It is, without the windchill, 4 degrees outside. On went Nigel's boot on his bandaged foot, everyone went out for a quickie pee, and I fed them, read my mail, responded to some. The dogs bedded down in the living room and Conley on my bed.
I read the news, avoided turning on the radio or TV and got more and more tired again, not really ready to get up and face daylight (which was still long in the future at that hour)....
So I turned everything off, lights, computer, brain. (The latter is more often the case than I would like to admit. Getting it to turn ON is the tricky part.)
And, shoving Conley to the back of the bed I laid down with my back to him.
Now.
Conley is absolutely without question the very best snuggler I have EVER had. He is better than any male person in the Universe, sorry John, including my husband. He is, first of all, pliable. I can shove him around so that I am comfortable, too. He adjusts. I need no blankets with Conley because he is so warm and cuddles up so close to my back it is like having your very own hot water bottle.
Conley doesn't snore. He doesn't wake me up and snarl when I do. He doesn't squirrel around trying to get more of the pillow, or suggest snidely that if I were not so "large" he could have more room. He breathes softly, warmly, and evenly on my neck. For an hour or so this is the most restful, deep, relaxing and sweet sleep that I will have.
Conley makes me crazy, yes he does. He eats my food if I turn my back, he takes knives off the counter and runs with them, he picks fights with Cooper and Nigel, he pees on the floor at the Gallery, he won't put his tail up in the show ring for me.
But it's ok. I don't care. Because boy, is he the best cure for the common cold ever.
