Chihuahua Sleeping Positions: Naptime Ned vs Bedtime Ned

The post Chihuahua Sleeping Positions: Naptime Ned vs Bedtime Ned by Dr. Karyn Kanowski, BVSc MRCVS (Vet) appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Hi, I’m Dr. Karyn! Read my introduction to learn more about me and my five funny dogs, Poppy, Bailey, Kodah, Ned, and Fred.

One thing that my teeny tiny Chihuahua, Ned, loves almost as much as food is a good sleep. In fact, first thing in the morning, he will hit the snooze button and choose an extra hour or two in bed rather than drag his furry little body downstairs to breakfast; such is his confidence that he will never really miss out on a meal. His bleary eyes and sad little moans as I fold the blanket back are almost as pathetic as the look Husband gets when his alarm goes off. What’s interesting about Ned’s sleeping habits is that he is very particular about where he sleeps and when.

Each night, Ned and his cousin, Fred, share the bed with Husband and me. Being that Ned loves a warm blanket, but I get hot at night, we have a fluffy blanket that goes over the top during the day and gets folded back at night so that Ned can tunnel under it. At night, he will only sleep from our knee level down, and must always be positioned between Husband and me; he’s not going to risk rolling off! This probably sounds perfectly normal to you, unless you’re someone who doesn’t like to have dogs in the bed. (Admittedly, I used to be one of those people, until I discovered Chihuahuas!)

Here’s where Ned’s sleeping habits get confusing.

I suffer from Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS), so naps during the day are a semi-regular occurrence. So much so that Ned, Fred, Kodah, and Poppy have all learned what the word ‘nap’ means and respond to it with great enthusiasm. Even if they are already comfortably snoozing downstairs, if I say the magic word, everyone leaps to their feet and races upstairs to claim their spot on the bed. I’m not entirely sure why daytime naps are so exciting for them, but it’s nice to have company.

As I mentioned, at night, Ned will not venture further up the bed than our knees, but during a daytime nap, his favorite position is snuggled against my chest. I love this because I can cradle his whole body in one hand as he nuzzles into my neck, and once he falls asleep, he doesn’t stir, making him the perfect naptime buddy. Incidentally, this was where he slept at night for the first few months of living with us, before gradually migrating his way further down the bed. So, why the difference in preference?

No cuddles, no complications just a pair of sleeping bums — No cuddles, no complications, just a pair of sleeping bums

Ned is quite a temperature-sensitive creature who tends to gravitate towards heat, which is why another of his favorite sleeping spots is on top of a hot water bottle. But when he gets too hot, he doesn’t just move off the bottle; he gets up and moves to the other side of the room, throwing himself to the ground with a sigh. Similarly, he will occasionally wriggle out from his fluffy cocoon and lie on top of the blankets for a while, before burrowing his way back under.

Is it that he knows that naptime rarely lasts more than an hour or two, so he won’t need to worry about thermoregulation? I had wondered if it was because during the day, the fluffy blanket isn’t folded back, so he cuddles up to me to stay warm. But in winter, I put an extra blanket on the bed, which he could equally wrap himself up in. No, it feels more emotionally driven to me, or perhaps that’s just what I want to believe! Perhaps naptime is seen as more of a bonding experience rather than the practical necessity of nightly slumber. A deliberate act of shared inactivity, with an emphasis on group cohesion and companionship.

I admit, having a nap during the day was something very alien to me at first, but as my condition got worse, it became something of a necessity. It still feels indulgent, a treat, but it has also become therapeutic. Not just the nap itself, but giving myself permission to have one. It makes me wonder if this complicated vibe has triggered Ned’s instinct to provide comfort and companionship, somehow sensing that sleeping during the day is something to be cherished together, not just taken for granted.

There is probably a far simpler and less emotionally charged explanation for Ned’s daylight-dependent sleeping positions, but either way, if it means I get to spend a couple of hours with him curled against my heart, I am more than happy.