Something strange happens to me at night at the stroke of ten. Legs stop working. Head feels heavy. Must go to sleep. I will sit and paw at the bedroom door if I must to let my VIH know it's time for bed. And where would any self-respecting chi like myself sleep? In my VIH's bed of course! Those "dog beds" I hear humans speak of are for lower class pooches. All I do is peer up at my VIH with my big pretty eyes that say "Pick me up and put me into bed please." And she does every time.