When we brought Minnie home from adoption in 2013 as a four month old pup, she was terrified, and she retreated to a big wingback chair in the kitchen, where she felt reasonably safe and from which vantage point she could keep an eye on much of the house. That chair has continued to be her favorite place.
At night, after I’ve brushed my teeth and washed up for bed, I come out in the kitchen, and find Minnie in her chair. I give her a few little pieces of turkey before putting her to bed. When she hears me fussing around in the refrigerator, she jumps down off the chair and comes over.
The other night she seemed to be struggling to get up from the chair. Concerned, I watched her as she pushed and squirmed to get to her feet. I could not figure out what was going on. She fell off the chair rather than jumping down, and landed with a thump on her belly. Holy shit, I thought. Did she have a stroke? And she got her legs under her and got up and shook herself.
I realized she had gotten her collar somehow tangled up in the upholstery, which prevented her at first from standing up and jumping down. The collar had come loose when she landed.
Minnie was fine immediately. I expect I’ll recover from the emotional strain in a few weeks.