I need to confess something and I need to know if it's just me.
When Sami is sleeping - really sleeping, the deep kind where he's belly-up with his legs in the air like a dead bug - I check if he's breathing.
Not sometimes. Every time. I look at his chest. I wait for the rise. I count to three. If I can't see it, I lean in closer. If I still can't see it, I put my hand near his nose and wait for the little puff of warm air.
He's always breathing. Obviously. He's always fine. He's the kind of dog who goes to bed at 11pm like a retiree and sleeps so deeply he barks in his dreams. He's not fragile. He's the most committed sleeper I know.
And yet.
I'm a grown adult who runs a business and makes decisions that affect actual humans, and I regularly hover over a sleeping terrier to confirm he's alive. This happens multiple times a week. It has been happening for years. It has never once produced a different result.
The rational part of my brain knows this is ridiculous. The other part of my brain - the part that apparently runs things - says "but what if this is the time."
I mentioned this to a friend once, trying to make it sound casual. He said "oh yeah, I do that too." Just like that. No hesitation. Like I'd asked if he drinks water.
So either this is universal and we all just silently agreed never to talk about it, or my friend and I are both unwell and should probably discuss this with someone.
I think it's the first one. I think every dog parent has the midnight hand-near-nose moment. The "just checking" lean. The quiet relief when you see the chest move.
We're not being neurotic. We're being exactly what we signed up to be. The person who checks. The person who notices. The person who cares a stupid amount about a creature who is, for the record, absolutely fine and probably dreaming about chasing something he'd never actually catch.
Bobby (and Sami, who is breathing)