Spot on!

Spot is our family's chihuahua.  He is what we call, "an evil dictator/stuffed animal come to life".  Sometimes, after he has blasted out of his resting place right at your face, you might also call him a "pit viper".  Either way, he don't play.
He is feisty.  His looks are perfect and handsome.  Black and White markings end perfectly and precisely along his belly, down his legs, and down the bridge of his nose.
At some point a wild animal got ahold of him and he was {severely} injured.  Now, when he breathes in moments of excitement he sounds like Darth Vader and scares people who don't know his habits.
He is really fine, but he looks like he struggles, cracked ribs and all.
When we pull into the driveway and he comes running to greet us beside of Prissy, our other dog, it just melts our hearts, all our hearts (all five of them), even though he is mostly only nice to two of us!
At some point Spot decided he was only going to like three or four people.  Two of those live under our roof and the other two are Nana and Papa.
There is no love lost going the other direction either.  Most people really don't love or even love Spot.  My friends have to call or text me from the driveway to get into my house.  Several dog lovers have suffered the hand and ankle biting ON PURPOSE to try to "help him overcome his fear," to no avail.  He is nine now, so I don't see these habits changing on this side of the rainbow bridge.  It has actually been a source of much comic relief at times, once people learn to just leave him alone.  That means don't look at him, greet him, anything.  Just walk by his dog bed, or you will unleash his wrath and fury.
Since we have been trapped, all together, in the house this week I have noticed something about Spot.  I have been sleeping in the living room on a futon b/c Andy works at the hospital and I am trying to avoid whatever germs he might be bringing home.  I really would have thought he would have slept with me.  I like to think I am Spotty's favorite. This is what I have noticed:  He has not slept with me {every} night.  He has slept with Andy most nights.  He chose one or two nights, however, to sleep with me.  The couple nights before I faced a surgery (the surgery did not happen in the end, but it was up in the air at the time), Spot decided to sleep with me.
This made me realize something.  There is so much more to Spot's personality.  I think he was feeling our vibes.  He senses which one of us {needs} him the most and decides his sleeping spot accordingly.  Spot on, buddy!!