My grandparents old dog, Charlie, used to do the most wonderful and sweet thing.
I didn’t live full time with them; I spent summers and holidays at their place and I had been around almost 24/7 when Charlie was a puppy so he knew me really well. We always were good “friends”; he’d sit next to me on the couch, and go walking with me outside, but he wasn’t a super physically affectionate dog. He didn’t like roughhousing, or cuddling, and was not a fan of being scratched for more than a few seconds.
In high school, I started having nightmares. Really, really bad nightmares that would wake me up in a cold sweat, crying, shaking, unable to breathe. I would get up and walk around the house for a bit to calm down and Charlie was always there, sleeping on the couch, and when I was feeling 100% awful I would curl up next to him and put my nose into his fur and he’d let out this little sigh and let me do it. And the nights that I did that, I calmed down a lot faster and could get to sleep really quickly when I went back to my room, and I was inevitably in a much better mood the next day and got along better with everyone.
After a few repetitions of this cycle, I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and he was suddenly there; he had decided to sleep on the carpet at the foot of the bed and as soon as I woke up he jumped up onto the bed and snuggled up next to me, letting me put my arm over him (I never was allowed to do this during the day) and go straight back to sleep. The next time, he was already there, sleeping at the foot of the bed. After the third or fourth time, I would wake up for a normal reason and find Charlie sleeping right next to my head, and as soon as I moved to go to the bathroom he would raise his head, look at me, give his little tail a wag and go back to sleep. A few times when I was having really really bad nightmares that I couldn’t wake up from, he would start licking my face and whining and that was enough to wake me up out of the nightmare. He would instantly settle down, return to sleeping next to me, and let me get back to sleep. As soon as I got up in the morning, he was off; no morning cuddling or affection for this puppy. It wasn’t in his nature.
I have 0% idea what was going through his mind but I’ve read that dogs can smell fear, and since we were both “puppies” together I can’t help but believe that he smelled his littermate in mortal dread and decided that it was more important that he make them feel safe and secure than it was to maintain the distance that he was so fond of.
He was a great dog.
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