Around midnight, the apartment upstairs started making a horrible dragging noise. Chair. Silence. Scrape. Thump. This had happened every night for a week. Eventually I went upstairs and knocked. My neighbor opened the door looking exhausted. "Sorry," I said. "Are you moving furniture at night?" He looked confused. Then: scrape. We both froze. It came from behind him. His elderly dachshund appeared dragging a dining-chair cushion through the hallway. Apparently she had recently decided her normal bed was unacceptable. Every night she stole one cushion from beneath the table, dragged it into the bedroom, slept on it, then her owner returned it in the morning. While we watched, she abandoned that cushion, went back, and started pulling another one. My neighbor said, "Greta. You already have one." Greta kept pulling. "Greta." Nothing. He looked at me. "She wants a double bed.”