Lying here on this sofa. I should go to bed really but I’m so tired after a hard days work I can hardly move. Besides my bed’s getting old now and the sofa is so comfortable.

Maybe I should get into bed, after all its only just across the room from where I’m snoozing on the sofa but this cushion under my head is so comfortable, perhaps I could take it to bed with me. Even with the cushion in the bed, the fact is the sofas still much softer.

Another hard day in the office tomorrow, roll on the weekend say I. The weekend’s my favourite time as I can have a lie-in.

Oh I hate those crowded tube trains, everyones in such a rush bumping into one another. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve been trodden on, people seem not to see me. It isn’t deliberate but it hurts none the less.

I’m lucky, my colleagues are really nice, even though people are busy someone or other always has time to stop and chat. I’d hate to work in a place where you couldn’t socialise with people. As a wise person once said “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”.

There is a big tradition of colleagues bringing in cakes and biscuits. I’m a little mean in that respect, I will help myself to food but I never bring anything in nor do I stand my round in the pub however, people still appear to like me.

Oh this sofa is heaven, it beats me why I need a bed at all, perhaps I’ll sleep on it every night.

What was that sound? Is he coming in here? False alarm I can stay right here, he isn’t coming in.

I can here him snoring. Do I snore like that I wonder? I have the most vivid dreams, mostly about chasing things or, occasionally being chased. I guess we all must dream. I know he does because I sometimes here him talking in his sleep.

I’m so tired, living and working in London really takes it out of you. Personally I’d prefer to live in the country as I love all that green grass but beggers can’t be choosers and I’m stuck in the capital so long as his majesty decides to stay here. If I sleep now will I hear him getting up? My hearing is very acute, I’ll be sure to be up and about as soon as he opens his bedroom door.

“Get down you naughty dog, you know you aren’t allowed to sleep on the sofa!”

Oh know I must have been very tired, I didn’t here him come in. Back to my basket for me. Tail between my legs, pretend to be sorry and hope he’ll take pity on me.

 

(The above is dedicated to my guide dog, Trigger who has been known to spend the odd night on my sofa)!