Goldilocks is the quintessential picky kid. Turning up her pert nose and shaking her bouncy golden curls at other people’s preferences. They weren’t good enough for her. Or so I’ve always thought.
Maybe inflexibility was more her challenge. In her world, there were right and wrong options. After all, it only took three tries for her to find the porridge and bed that were “just right” for her. And were they all baby bear’s? Maybe she was just confirming that as we age, our tastes change. What was perfectly fine for the mother and father bear just weren’t intended for a child.
What has got me thinking about Goldilocks? Pettigrew of course.
I decided I wanted to get him a dog bed and discovered there is a lot of research that can be done in the quest for the perfect bed. No joke, I spent hours and hours over the course of several days reading articles about the different types of beds, observing Pettigrew sleeping and even measuring him in different positions, and, finally, reading review after review once I had determined the type of bed that would best suit.
Not the beds that looked more like tents with a canopy overhead, or the donuts for dogs that curl tightly into a ball, or the raised cots, or even the flat pads. Nope, I determined that Pettigrew would happily sleep on a cushioned pad (to support his arthritic joints), with bolsters around three of the four sides, so he could recline his head and neck on their pillowed surfaces.
Despite weighing less than 60 lbs., which matched to a medium-sized bed on many sites, we went with the jumbo. Our boy likes to stretch out, limbs, head, and tail extended. He takes up a lot of space.
The bed arrived. I washed the cover and aired out the foam inserts for several days so that it would all smell like home.
Once reassembled and placed on the floor, Pettigrew happily clambered on and took a short siesta. Then he was off in search of new digs.
This was not what I had expected. His forever bed was what I thought I had found. In my imagination, he would settle down for sleep on this most-perfect-of-beds and luxuriate in its comfort without the need for anything else.
Unlike Goldilocks, Pettigrew doesn’t have a “just right.” His is more of a “right enough for now” attitude. But then he wants to be on the back porch, or the living room sofa, or perhaps under a table. They all have their moments.
I thought I was buying a bed for Goldilocks. I’ve had to recalibrate my expectations. My gift to Pettigrew is of yet another in a series of delicious places to catch some shut eye.
That’s good enough for me.