I love rolling over at night and hugging his warm body. His gentle breathing lulls me back to sleep. His short, black hair, tickles my face when I lean over and kiss him.

I could not sleep without him.

My 35 pound dog, that is.

He is the cutest, most cuddly thing in the world. And he has to sleep right next to me. Or on me.

How can I say no to this face?

We got Levi from the pound a few years ago.

The first night in his new house I laid a plush dog bed on the floor next to ours. All night long, he would jump back up in bed and lay as still as he possibly could, hoping I wouldn’t notice.

After hours of these attempts, I finally pretended not to notice.

Three years later, he sleeps in the smallest little ball his 35-pound-ass can curl up in. Right next to me. Sharing my pillow.

(Our other dog, Chelsea, also sleeps with us, but she is like nine pounds and doesn’t take up much space.)

Of course, by three in the morning, Levi is sprawled out on his back, feet in the air, in between me and my husband.

That is, before my husband started sleeping upstairs in the guest room.

I love Levi, too, but he takes up too much space on the bed….is what I have been hearing for sometime now.

Me: Then I’ll sleep upstairs with him, you can have our bed.

Husband: So you would rather sleep with the dog?

Me: Well, I can snuggle with the dog without him trying to cop a feel.

Here’s the thing.

I have met plenty of couples who sleep in separate bedrooms.

Yes, lots of them are like 90, but…whatever.

Personally, I don’t think it’s big deal. It’s not like you can’t do the deed and then scamper away to your separate sleeping quarters.

My husband does, however, think it’s important that we share the same bed. Even when sleeping.

Last weekend, things came to a head.

My husband decided that he really wanted to sleep in our room again.

I cried and I cried (Yes, really. I’m pregnant. Back off.)

I confessed that I love sleeping with the dogs. I have since I was little girl. Since they were bigger than me.

They are my furry, little, leg humping security blankets.

I also feel terribly guilty putting them on the floor.

I know. I know. Get a grip.

Anyway, in the interest of saving my marriage, I went online and googled “dog co-sleepers.”

And, fantastic news, I’m not the only whack-job pet owner out there.

Levi is patiently waiting for his new big boy bed that was ordered over the weekend.

Yes, you guys. I really did buy a co-sleeper for my dogs.

(What, YOU’RE weird, Gah.)

These are dog models. Not Levi or Chelsea.

Also, I am slightly mourning not having our king size bed and TV all to myself.

Stupid compromise.

Maybe I should get a co-sleeper for my husband, too.