What's the best bed for big dogs?
Choose where your dog will sleep.
A California King bed is 6 feet by 7 feet, depending on the brand and the topping. It's large enough to accommodate a sixty-pound pittie, and a seventy-pound hound, and a 120-pound human. When choosing your dog, choose their lifestyle as well. If they are furniture allowed, then consider the cost of dog beds, and how they will use them. Dante, blue nose staffy, and Angus, Catahoula hound, are part of our family, and use couches, chairs, and beds as family.
Dante jumps onto the California King upstairs with flair. It's a frog leap with a gazelle tuck. He lands like a cat. The first few days he frogazelled onto forty-two square feet of mattress, he wouldn't jump off. Day three he slid off the edge and down. A downhill skier tucked, landing on his orthopedic dog bed on the floor, luge riding into the bedroom wall. Physics explains the energy disbursement via angle delivery, orthopedic mattress depth, and slide divided by friction against the wood floor. He is as shocked as I am, sitting on his bed now halfway up the wall.
Angus Lee, seventy pounds of picky Catahoula hound. Obviously his blue Barkbox bed is better than the grey one.
If a big dog sleeps in your bed, get yourself a bigger bed.
Last night Dante jumped into bed with Angus. Angus sat straight up and looked down at him. Dante laid down flat, head-on paws and did the Dante Doggy Eye of Helpless Pup Who Needs Saving. I stand doing Tetris Math in my head to make this work.
Angus looks down at Dante. "Dude. What are you doing?"
"SHHH, shut up. I'm working here." Dante breaths through his jowls to expose just how close to dead he is if he can't sleep on the bed now.
"Dude. This is my thing." Angus moves forward, to sit straighter in case I haven't noticed him.
"Technically it's mom's thing, and she let you up here. Technically, I'm like you and I get up here, too." Dante yips slightly, stretches further out grabbing the edge of the bed and falls to his side.
"KNOCK THAT OFF!"
"Why? Because you can't do it? You can't deliver the goods like me? Look at her, she's going to cave any minute."
Angus looks at me, falls into a tight puppy circle of hound hopelessness needing assistance as well. Landing on Dante's head subtracted from the full affect though.
"Get off my head."
"I'm not on your head. I'm against your face. Different thing entirely."
"You're blocking my vulnerable pup expressions." Dante whines and jowl breaths under Angus mass.
"Well, that's awkward for you trying to deliver the goods." Angus rolls over to expose his belly, stretching his front legs like a centerfold.
There's no not rubbing a hound belly. I help Dante extract his face from under Angus' shoulder while stroking the softest fur on this dog, just below his rib cage. I pull Dante, roll Angus, push Dante, scoot Angus, and find space in the center that leaves Angus with his original space he always gets, sacrificing 1/3 of my space for Dante.
I lay down on top of blankets and sheets I can't pull out from under dogs. I exhale to recover from dog arrangements.