Sunday, March 19, 2017

My Rough Theatre

My rough theatre is my bed. Some may ask, “How can a bed be considered this?” Well, a year and three months ago I adopted a rescue dog. Her name is Daisy. She is a mixture of a lab and hound, so she has short tan fur and adorable floppy ears. She was abandoned on the streets, left to fend for herself as a puppy. When she was finally rescued by me, she was around one year old. Daisy has horrible separation anxiety and is also an escape artist. She could escape her crate when I was gone. I came home one day to find my mattress on the floor and multiple huge holes in the box spring. The sheets were ripped to shreds, but Daisy sat with her innocent eyes. Of course, I was furious, but she didn’t know better yet. I picked up the mattress and destroyed sheets and remade the bed. I sat there with her, unsure of how to handle this, so we laid on the bed together. Daisy may have destroyed my bed, but we rescued each other.


Everyday Daisy and I lay in the same bed together. I fall asleep with her at my feet and wake up with her next to my face. She sits on the bed waiting for me to come home. Upon arrival, I’m always greeted with a wagging tail and dog smile. Daisy doesn’t care or know what mistakes I make. She loves me just the same. As I write this sitting on my bed, she kicks me and tries to lay on top of my stomach, but she just wants attention. So, my bed in no longer is in the same form as the manufacturers intended, but that’s okay. It is my rough theatre. This deformed bed is where I get to spend quality time with my favorite loving pup.