There once was a little Italian Greyhound called Dexter who had one mighty personality. He was the kind of pooch who often walks on 3 paws as heaven forbid a paw touched anything cold or wet. If you said walkies, unlike dogs who jump for joy, Dexter moved at his pace and decided yes or no, if even a hint of rain or wind was present on even the driest of summer days… Dexter stayed at home.
He loved nothing more than to stand in front of a fluffy cream blanket which zipped up at the side to become a pocket. With one foot hovering over it, he would insist on a prolonged squeaky chorus to announce that one must open it for him to tuck inside. This blanket went anywhere he required from the dining room, to pride of place on the sofa. The pocket became his favourite sleeping spot and to this day will not go to bed without it.