How Did St. Francis of Assisi Ever Get Any Sleep?

Or Noah, for that matter?

Every night I go to bed in a California King-sized bed and by the middle of the night, I'm sleeping in a tiny sleeping bag, surrounded by animals. I can't roll out of bed any more, I have to struggle out of the top of the covers and then slither off the bottom as if I'm in a tent in the wilderness.

Allow me to explain.

After I go to bed, there comes a mighty THUMP! as a 28-pound Bodie the Wonder Dog jumps onto the bed and curls up, on top of the covers, leaning against my left thigh. A bit later there's a slightly lighter THUMP! as our 16-pound Maximum Leader jumps onto the bed and curls up, on top of the covers, pressed against my right mid-section.

The end effect is that the covers are bound around me tightly all night. Turning over is very difficult, curling up is even harder and rolling out of bed is impossible. Last night, we discovered the heater was still on and I had to slither out from under the covers through the top and then slide down off the bottom of the bed to go turn it off. As I did so, the animals just watched me and wondered why I had disturbed them.

Sleep? Why do I need sleep? I'm just a pillow for God's lovely creatures. Lord, make me an instrument of their peace, or something like that.

Fly to Starbucks, my little friend, and bring me back a venti cappuccino! No, make that two venti cappuccinos!