Blanket Power

I need my blanket. I've heard of people who can sleep without one, but they're freaks. You need that protective shield from cold air, bugs, and boogie men. You need a blanket when watching scary movies to hide behind when it's too much to watch (every scary scene I've ever watched has been through the tiny holes in a knit blanket; safer that way). You need a blanket when you have to share your bed with a sibling: one on top of the blanket (don't let it be you), and one underneath. You need a blanket to throw over the head of the person on the couch who is annoying you (try it sometime; it definitely ends a line of conversation).

Blankets are comforting, reminding us of warmth, an embrace, the feeling of your mother throwing a quilt over you in the middle of a chilly night. Because your father turned the heat way down.

I had long believed the power of the blanket to be for humans alone, but it isn't true.

My dog believes in the power of the blanket.

This is the only possible explanation for his insistence on spending at least 60% of his time buried under one. I realized the other day that it is effective armour when my cat decided to sit on him. No blanket = raging fight, much fur flying, and serious injuries (to the dog). Blanket = both of them slept peacefully for an hour. Until I tried to take a picture and then everybody moved.

The other night, I put the dog to bed in his blanket-laden crate. Fifteen minutes later, I heard screaming. I ran downstairs only to find the cat in the crate with the dog. Apparently, he, too, had been embracing the power of the blanket and was in the cage when I put Leo to bed. The cat won the fight. Easily.

So, you see, everyone loves blankets. They are a highly-prized possession. And it is therefore, in my opinion, a despicable crime when someone tries to steal your blanket from you in the middle of the night when it's freezing cold and then holds that blanket hostage by rolling over it and pretending to be "asleep" and "unaware" that all of the blankets are now on one side of the bed -- and not yours.

I'm not saying it's worth a life sentence in solitary, but blanket stealing: it's up there.