Sleeping with the enemy

As usual, I woke up this morning at 5:30 a.m.
I've had a cough for months and if I don't quell it with Buckley's Mixture or a good glug of water, I will pee myself. And we girls know there's nothing worse than coughing on a full bladder.
Too much information, I know.
I gingerly crawled from the bed home so as not to wake the alligator sleeping soundly at the bottom. Usually, I have to wake up Scott and have him hold Finnigan until I go to the bathroom, but this morning the alligator didn't even stir.
Bliss.
As I crawled back into bed, Scott stirred then lept from the bed grabbing his leg. Muscle cramp.
Up he got, along with Finn and thus our dreams of sleeping in on a Sunday morning were dashed once again.
It's not Finn's fault, our sleeplessness.
He is a champion sleeper for a puppy.
I suppose it from years sleeping with Ming, the pug.

Ming, the allergic pug.
Ming, the COPD pug.
Ming, the great shedder.
It's been more than a week and I haven't had to strip the sheets. When Ming was around, we had to change the bed every second night because of the fur.
Most nights, Ming would shake and shimmer, pace and wheeze.
If she were alive today, I would be sleeping on the couch. For the next four months.
That's because allergy season sent her into a tizzy and the only surface where she could settle comfortably was the leather couch.
It's been only a couple of weeks and I miss Ming terribly.
But I am grateful that her replacement is a sound sleeper.