Dogs are double-edged swords
One of the dogs was pressed so hard into me that it woke me up while there was some lightning going on, we were like two parentheses.
I thought, “Man, dogs are really a double-edged sword,” while I was going back to sleep. As the thought repeated itself, I realized that this dog was nothing like a sword, more like a snow otter, or maybe a fat arctic seal pup. Which is probably the opposite of a sword of any sort.
I rolled over to let my dogged-out spine decompress and the chihuahua was instantly pressed into me from the other side. As I started to go back to sleep, I thought, “Man, chihuahuas are really a double-edged sword.” I was reminded by my brainhole that a chihuahua on a bed is really nothing like a sword, she’s more like a warm, hairy breadloaf-shaped potato. Or rock, maybe, but with morning breath like the dumpster behind an all-you-can-eat crawfish festival. But not a sword.
Some lightning hit closer, and another double-edged sword pressed into my knees…