Displaced

Sassy and I have discovered a new element in our relationship: competition.  We have great love and respect for one another, but lately I've noticed that we clash on one major issue: we both think we are Travis' main girl.  We both have every right to feel this way.  I am married to Travis, so obviously I would feel entitled.  And Sasquatch puts in the hours.  Four to six days a week, Sassy is the one sleeping curled up next to Travis on the bed, the one perched next to him on the couch while he watches the Rangers game, and the one he pours his heart out to in his daily tear-filled emotional outburst (that was a joke for people who know Travis).  But seriously, for all she does while I am gone, Sasquatch deserves a medal.  And instead, she gets displaced.  One to three times a week, I come home and take her spot on the bed, and on the couch, and I can just see the bewilderment on her open little face.  "What did I do?  Where do I sit?" her expressive eyebrows say.  So we try to fit her, but then I get bumped off the bed, the couch.  

Last night I was complaining about it, and Travis said "A dog is man's best friend." 

"I thought I was your best friend!" I protested.

"That's the saying," Travis replied.  "It doesn't say woman is man's best friend.  It says dog is man's best friend."

So there you go: I think we have our victor.  And for some reason, it only makes me smile.

Yes, I watch the Rangers games.

Travis with his main girl