I wake to the bed shaking and the noise next to me. I turn over to see Dumpling standing on RJ’s chest, glaring down at him. RJ reaches up to pet him. “Hey, boy. You are shockingly heavy for such a little guy.” Dumpling grudgingly accepts a few pats, and then schlumps down, landing squarely between us. He wriggles around until he is on his back, splayed out like a spatchcocked chicken. His tongue is sticking out on the palsied side of his face, and he has a little smirk that seems to imply that everyone present is now aware of who takes precedence in this scenario. I rub his chest, and meet RJ’s eyes. “Good morning, you.” He smiles. “Good morning, beautiful. How bad was the snoring?” I can’t help but laugh. “Spectacular. Deep and resonant with an occasional nose whistle. Musical.” I would have assured any other man that he hadn’t snored in the least. But RJ’s snoring didn’t bother me at all.
