progresssive rules for the dogs

We have dogs. Three of them. We refer to them as our Department of Homeland Security. Coco protects us from invading butterflies, Angie makes sure you are constantly warmed by a dog breath breeze, and Seven stares at you to make sure you are not abducted by aliens...

Someone sent me these rules for dogs in the house. We have followed them, to the letter:

Dogs are never permitted in the house. The dog stays outside in a specially built wooden compartment named, for very good reason, the dog house.

Okay, the dog can enter the house, but only for short visits or if his own house is under renovation.

Okay, the dog can stay in the house on a permanent basis, provided his dog house can be sold in a yard sale to a rookie dog owner.

Inside the house, the dog is not allowed to run free and is confined to a comfortable but secure metal cage.

Okay, the cage becomes part of a two-for-one deal along with the dog house in the yard sale, and the dog can go wherever the heck he pleases.

The dog is never allowed on the furniture.

Okay, the dog can get on the old furniture but not the new furniture.

Okay, the dog can get up on the new furniture until it looks like the old furniture and then we'll sell the whole dang lot and buy new furniture... upon which the dog will most definitely not be allowed.

The dog never sleeps on the bed. Period.

Okay, the dog can sleep at the foot of the bed.

Okay, the dog can sleep alongside you, but he's not allowed under the covers.

Okay, the dog can sleep under the covers but not with his head on the pillow.

Okay, the dog can sleep alongside you under the covers with his head on the pillow, but if he snores he's got to leave the room.

Okay, the dog can sleep and snore and have nightmares in bed, but he's not to come in and sleep on the couch in the TV room, where I'm now sleeping. That's just not fair.

The dog never gets listed on the census questionnaire as "primary resident," even if it's true.