Hey everyone, I just need to get this off my chest because I honestly don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, or if I’ve let things go too far. It’s been on my mind for a while, and I’d love to hear any thoughts or advice you might have. I guess this is more of a vent than anything, but I appreciate anyone who reads to the end.
So, here’s the deal: I have this little fluffball of a dog named Toby. He’s a Shih Tzu mix (at least, that’s what the vet says—he’s got that scruffy face and those soulful eyes that basically scream “Shih Tzu with a dash of who-knows-what”). I never planned to let him sleep in my bed. In fact, I remember being adamant about the “no dogs on the bed” rule when I first got him. That was a hill I was absolutely prepared to die on.
But it turns out Toby had other ideas.
I adopted Toby from a local rescue about a year ago. He was this timid little guy with matted fur, terrified of everyone who came near his crate. The rescue workers told me he’d come from a situation where he was neglected, probably kept in a small kennel most of his life. Something about his big, sad eyes pulled at my heartstrings. I remember standing there in front of all those cages, thinking, “I can’t adopt them all, but I can adopt one.” And Toby just looked at me like he was silently begging for a second chance.
I guess I’m a sucker for that look. I took him home that same day, feeling both excited and slightly terrified about my decision. I mean, I had never owned a dog before. I’d grown up with cats, and cats are so… independent. Toby, on the other hand, was the total opposite: clingy, anxious, and desperately in need of reassurance.
The first night I brought him home, I set up this super cozy little corner in my room. I had a plush dog bed, a warm blanket, and a few squeaky toys arranged in a neat circle. I even put one of my old T-shirts in there, so he’d have my scent. I thought I’d done everything right. I was proud of my little setup.
But Toby just stared at that dog bed like it was some foreign object. The moment I turned off the lights and crawled into my own bed, I heard him pacing around, whimpering in that heart-wrenching, high-pitched puppy way. I tried to ignore it for a bit, telling myself, “He’ll get used to it. He just needs time.” But after about ten minutes of nonstop whining, I caved. I reached down, scooped him up, and held him on my chest.
And that was the end of my “no dogs on the bed” rule.
At first, I only meant to calm him down. I planned to put him back in his own bed once he was asleep. But Toby had other plans—he promptly curled up on my pillow, gave a heavy sigh (like he’d finally found the place he belonged), and conked out. I remember lying there, wide awake, feeling his tiny heartbeat thump against my arm. I was so worried about rolling over on him or something, but I also felt this wave of peace wash over me. Like, “Oh, this is what I’ve been missing.”
I’m not gonna lie: it was one of the most comforting nights of my life. I had no idea a dog’s presence could be that calming. It was like an instant stress reliever. Normally, I toss and turn for hours, my mind racing with all the things I need to do, all my worries, all the regrets from the day. But with Toby there, my brain just… shut off in the best possible way. I think we both slept through the entire night without stirring.
After that, I told myself I’d gradually transition him back to his own bed. I even read some articles about crate training and establishing boundaries. I talked to some friends who had dogs, and they gave me tips on how to maintain a consistent bedtime routine. But each night, Toby would stare at me with those big, round eyes, and I just couldn’t say no. It felt wrong to separate him. And it was more than that—it felt like I needed him there, too.
I started to realize that maybe my boundary wasn’t so necessary after all. Maybe Toby sleeping in my bed wasn’t just for him—it was for me, too.
Fast-forward a few months, and Toby is officially my snuggle buddy. He has his spot right next to me, and he’s basically my personal heater in the winter. We’ve got this little routine: I’ll climb under the blankets, Toby will hop up, circle three times (I have no idea why he does that, but it’s adorable), and plop down with his head resting on my thigh. Sometimes he’ll nudge his nose under my hand if he wants me to scratch his ears. It’s become our nightly ritual.
But here’s where things get complicated (and kind of dramatic).
A few weeks ago, I started noticing that Toby would get really antsy whenever I tried to leave him alone. If I got up in the middle of the night to grab water or go to the bathroom, he’d jump off the bed and follow me, whining at my ankles. During the day, if I leave for work, I can hear him scratching at the door, crying like I’m never coming back. It’s gotten to the point where I’m worried about separation anxiety. I’ve read that letting a dog sleep in your bed can make them more dependent on you, and now I’m wondering if I set him up for this.
Part of me feels guilty, like I messed up Toby’s training. Another part of me wonders if I should even be worried, because I love having him so close. My friends are split on the issue—some say it’s fine as long as Toby’s not showing signs of aggression or resource guarding, which he isn’t. Others insist that I need to teach him boundaries or I’ll never have a life of my own again.
I’m torn. I can’t imagine the idea of forcing Toby to sleep elsewhere now. He’s been through so much, and he’s happiest when he’s curled up next to me. But at the same time, I don’t want him to feel like he can’t function if I’m not there. I don’t want to be that person who created an anxious, clingy dog because I couldn’t say no to those adorable eyes.
Then there’s the matter of my personal life. I recently started seeing someone new, and while this person is totally cool with Toby, there have been moments where I sense they’re not super thrilled about the dog always being in the bed. It’s not a big deal yet, but I worry it might become an issue down the road. Like, what if Toby doesn’t accept having someone else there? What if Toby feels replaced or jealous? It sounds silly, but I’ve heard stories of dogs acting out when their owner’s attention is suddenly divided.
I can’t help but think about the future: if I move in with someone, am I always going to have Toby in bed with me? Is that sustainable? I guess I never really planned for that. And maybe that’s my problem—I never planned for any of this. I just fell in love with this tiny creature who needed me, and now I can’t picture my nights without him. But I also don’t want to be the “crazy dog person” who puts my dog’s comfort above all else, including my own relationships and Toby’s emotional well-being.
So, here I am, wondering if I should start training Toby to sleep in his own bed or if I should just let this ride out and see where it goes. The thought of Toby whining or scratching at the door at night breaks my heart. But the thought of him developing even worse separation anxiety down the line freaks me out, too. Am I making things harder for him? Am I making things harder for myself?
I’ve tried baby steps, like letting him nap in his own space during the day, or putting him in a separate room with a treat puzzle while I step outside for a bit. He’s okay for short periods, but at night, it’s a whole different story. The moment he sees me get under the covers, he’s right there, tail wagging, eyes shining, like, “Okay, time for bed, right?” And I can’t help but cave.
I know some people might roll their eyes at this. “It’s just a dog,” they might say. But Toby isn’t just a dog to me. He’s a friend, a confidant, a literal shoulder to cry on when life gets overwhelming. He’s that warm little presence that reminds me everything’s going to be okay, even when I’m freaking out over work deadlines or feeling lonely. And I guess that’s why I’m so conflicted.
Right now, I’m leaning toward letting Toby keep sharing my bed. I’m hoping that with some patience, maybe I can ease his anxiety in other ways—more exercise, more mental stimulation, maybe some training classes for both of us. I just don’t want to lose that special bond we’ve built. But there’s a nagging voice in the back of my head that worries about the long-term implications.
Anyway, that’s where I’m at. If you made it this far, thank you for sticking with me through this novel-length ramble. I guess I just wanted to spill my heart out to people who might understand the emotional rollercoaster of owning a dog with a shaky past. Toby and I have come so far from that day at the rescue. He’s gone from cowering in a crate to prancing around the apartment like he owns the place—my bed included. And I have to admit, seeing him so happy is one of the best feelings in the world.
At the end of the day, I’m grateful I have Toby in my life. Even if it’s complicated, even if it means sacrificing some personal space, even if I’m not entirely sure where we go from here. We’re a work in progress. And for now, I’m okay with that.
TL;DR: Adopted a shy rescue dog, swore I’d never let him sleep in my bed, caved almost immediately. Now he won’t sleep anywhere else, and I’m worried about separation anxiety and how this might affect my future. But despite all that, I’m not sure I can give up the comfort of having him right there beside me.
I guess that’s it. Thanks for reading, everyone. I’d love to hear if anyone else has been in a similar situation or has advice on managing a clingy pup. I’m hoping we can find a balance without losing the closeness we’ve come to rely on. For now, Toby’s got his head on my pillow, and I’m trying to decide if I’m doing the right thing by letting him stay.
So yeah… that’s where we’re at. I’m open to any thoughts or suggestions. Wish us luck!