In the vast 33 square feet of surface area atop my queen mattress, there ought to be ample room for human and dog to peacefully coexist. But for some reason, both species seem to desire the same patch of real estate. Namely, my pillow.

Last night, I entered the bathroom with both dogs curled comfortably in their respective dog beds. After three minutes of brushing and flossing, I emerged to find Remy occupying the exact space where I would be laying my head.

It's not that I mind having dogs on the bed with me. On a cold winter night, 65 pounds of Labrador retriever splayed across your feet or curled into your side can be a welcome source of warmth. But there's no way I'm ever going to share my pillow. Besides the proximity of sharp claws and bony joints to my face, I can't deal with the drool puddles and facefulls of dog hair.

And it's not just a problem in my bed. Remy and Barrett seem to have a sixth sense for predicting where I plan to sit down. Often, I get up from the couch to get a drink or a snack and return to find one or both occupying the cushion I had just vacated. Other times, I'll go to the living room planning to check my email and find Barrett curled up in the corner of the couch next to my laptop. Another favorite place is the driver's seat. I can't leave Remy unattended in the car for more then 30 seconds without finding her sitting behind the wheel as if she's ready to drive away without me.

I'd like to think that this seat stealing is a demonstration of the dogs' undying love and loyalty. They are so broken up by my departure that the only way for them to deal is to curl up and bask in lingering warmth of my butt imprint. But a friend recently suggested an explanation that seems more scientifically sound: pack dominance.

Her theory goes something like this: since dogs are pack animals, they aspire to the alpha position of the pack. When the pack's leader (me) departs, the next highest-ranking member of the pack steps up to fill the power vacuum left by my absence.

A closer examination of Remy and Barrett's bedroom behavior backs this theory up. My wife Jen and I have not always had specific sides of the bed. We occasionally switch, and there have been times when I have laid my head on her pillows while she was out of town. No matter what, Remy always lies in the spot I last occupied. And when Remy take her spot at the head of the bed, Barrett, the more submissive of the two, takes over the dog bed where Remy had been lying.

While it's interesting to try to understand the instincts and desires behind this canine behavior, it doesn't do anything to keep my pillowcase dry and hair-free.