The nightly routine

Like me, my dogs are creatures of habit.

About 9 p.m. most nights I go into my office/library/greenhouse/conservatory to read, write or play in the dirt, depending on the season and my mood.

Every night, the dogs follow me in. Stanley hops onto the bed and assumes his position. Eventually Huckleberry moseys in as well. When Huck was a puppy, he was too little to jump onto the bed. He would put his front paws on it and I'd lift him up by his haunches and give him a boost.

Six years later, with the ability to easily jump onto the bed, he chooses not to. He likes the little extra attention. He will put his front feet on the bed and stare straight ahead. Finally, if I haven't jumped out of my chair to lift him up, he'll turn his head and look at me and wait.

So I get up and lift his 60-pound butt onto the bed and he curls in next to Stanley for his pre-bedtime nap.

It's so silly it makes me laugh every time.