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Yes, I know I can always sleep on the couch, and I also know there are several other spots at my disposal. Like Marge and Tex’s bed. But Odelia’s parents’ bed is already spoken for, by Brutus and Harriet, and even they have confided in me they suffer the same fate Dooley and I do, with Tex being one of those stringbeany types, whose highly-strung feet seem to have a mind of their own. Dooley, of course, is in the best position of all: he can choose to sleep at Odelia’s, or Grandma’s. Why he chooses Odelia’s is beyond me. She’s not technically his human, and still he spends all of his nights here. Then again, it’s comforting to have my best friend and wingman nearby, and perhaps he feels the same way, which is why he endures Chase’s nervous footwork, and so do I.

I opened one eye, then the other, and saw that Odelia was awake already. Oddly enough she was staring at Chase, who was still fast asleep. So I elbowed Dooley in the tummy and he muttered something that didn’t sound entirely friendly.

“Check this out,” I whispered. “Odelia is making a study of Chase.”

Dooley reluctantly dragged his heavy eyelids open and stared in the direction indicated.

“Huh,” he said finally. “Weird.”

“Right?”

We both watched on as Odelia watched, with a strange look on her face, the sleeping cop.

“I don’t get it,” said Dooley. “What’s the big attraction?”

“I have no idea,” I confessed.

“It’s just a sleeping human.”

“It is, and he’s not even looking his best.”

Chase, who some people claim is a handsome fellow, with one of those chiseled faces, strong jaws and long, brown hair, doesn’t look his best in the morning. His trademark mane is usually tousled, and more often than not there’s a tiny thread of drool visibly at the corner of his mouth. Not exactly the kind of face that would successfully grace the cover of a romance novel. Then again, Odelia’s features aren’t much to write home about either. Her fair hair is usually a mess, and she develops weird sleep marks on her fine-boned face.

“I mean, if you’ve seen one sleeping human, you’ve seen them all,” I said.

“It’s love,” suddenly a third party entered the discussion.

Dooley and I looked up in surprise, to discover that Harriet had joined us. She must have jumped up onto the bed while we were chatting, and was now gazing upon the peaceful scene with a strange little smile on her furry face.

“Love?” I said. “Um, I don’t think so. I think she’s counting the pores on his nose. And judging from the time it’s taking her there are a lot of them.”

“Or the stubble on his cheeks,” said Dooley. “The man has a lot of stubble.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Lots of stubble and lots of pores so plenty to look at.”

“Oh, you silly, silly boys,” said Harriet good-naturedly. “Can’t you see Odelia is in love and is simply drinking in the sheer beauty of her beloved?”

I studied the scene with this new information in mind.“Nope,” I said finally. “I don’t see it.”

“That’s because you’ve never been in love,” said Harriet curtly.

“Oh, I’ve been in love,” I said. “I’ve been in love plenty of times. But even then I didn’t stare at the face of my beloved like some doofus.”

“Odelia is not a doofus,” said Harriet. “She’s a woman in love, and that’s what a woman in love looks like when faced with the object of her affection.”

I studied Odelia more closely. Her lips were curved in a tiny smile, her half-lidded eyes sparkled, and a blush mantled her cheeks. All in all she looked a little dopey. As if she needed to go poo-poo and didn’t want to wake up Chase.

“I think she needs to go wee-wee and she’s afraid to wake him,” said Dooley, proving that we were kindred spirits.

Harriet rolled her eyes in that expressive way only she can pull off.

“Ugh. You guys are so dumb,” she said.

“It’s obvious,” said Dooley. “And I can’t believe you can’t see it.”

“Apart from the fact that I think she needs to go poo-poo and not wee-wee, Dooley is right,” I said. “This is obviously a woman who is silently praying for her boyfriend to finally wake up so she can make a run for the bathroom.”

“I’m telling you it’s love! How can you confuse love with having to go wee-wee or poo-poo!” Odelia uttered a little sigh, and the three of us looked up. “See?” said Harriet triumphantly. “Only a person in love can produce such a delightful little sigh.”

“It’s the sigh of a woman who needs to go pee-pee and knows she can’t go,” said Dooley, sticking to his guns.

Suddenly a deep, rumbling voice echoed through the room.“When are those darned cats going to shut up?” The voice was Chase’s and obviously, in spite of our best efforts, we hadn’t been as quiet and respectful as we’d hoped.

“Finally,” I said. “He’s awake. Now Odelia can stop counting his pores and his stubble and go to the bathroom.”

“A bowl of kibble says they’re going to snuggle,” said Harriet. “Because snuggling is what humans in love always do.”

“You’re on,” I said. “A bowl of kibble says she’s going to take this opportunity to make a run for the bathroom.”