I’ve Tried Nearly Every Dog Bed Out There. These Are the Only Ones My Dogs Actually Use.

Anyone who’s ever owned a dog will understand the challenge. You buy an expensive dog bed, bring it home, and your dog refuses to sleep on it. Worse, the second there’s one piece of dog hair on it, you can’t return it. So bedrooms and closets fill up with useless chunks of foam, and hundreds of dollars are wasted. Meanwhile, your dog is getting dingleberries all over the couches, chairs, and beds that should be reserved for humans. With much trial, error—and vacuuming—I have finally found solutions that work for my pack.

My wife, Virginia, and I have three dogs, all of whom have their own peculiar sleep behaviors. I’d intended to crate train Wiley when I adopted him more than 12 years ago, but the first night he was home, I fell asleep with him curled up on my belly while reading in bed, and woke up in the morning with him still there. A few years later, Virginia was the first girl he never tried to push out of his spot next to me in bed. The rest is history.

The joke in our house is that Bowie, our middle husky-German shepherd child, is only able to recharge his life-force when he’s touching both of us. So he’s slept between us every single night since he came home eight years ago.

And when we adopted Teddy shortly after our move to Montana, we invested years of work trying to get a dog who had suffered abuse, and was reluctant to trust humans, to learn to cuddle. But she’s so big that, even in our king size bed, there’s just not really room for her.

I’ve tried virtually every product out there in an effort to move them out of our bed, and onto their own, so that all of us will hopefully be more comfortable.

Doggie cots seemed novel, since they lift the pups off the ground, provide good air flow, and should offer support. But our dogs can’t get used to the lack of stability, and won’t sit, let alone lie down on one. My neighbors appreciated the hand-me-down. The big, soft cushions they sell at box stores? Our dogs won’t even look at one.

The most luck I’ve had has been with a thin, flimsy faux fur one I picked up at Costco during my monthly quest to bring home 120 pounds of chicken drumsticks to feed the dogs. During one visit only, they had a stack of the beds near the paper towels. I grabbed one just to try it, and Wiley fell in love immediately.

This model presents two problems, though: There’s not really any way to clean it, so even with daily vacuuming, it’s looking a little worse for wear. And Teddy insists on competing with her brothers for resources, so she steals it any chance she gets. Unfortunately, it’s way too small for her, so she just perches on it awkwardly, content in possession, but unable to sleep.

As Wiley ages, I have gotten more serious about trying to move his joints off the ground. Lately, more mornings than not, he’s waken up noticeably stiff, struggling to stand up off of that faux fur thing. So I was excited when Orvis launched its Recovery Zone dog beds a few years ago, which promised higher quality foams like those used in nice human mattresses.

The Recovery Zone pairs four-inches of durable, supportive medium density foam in its base with a one-inch top layer that’s much softer and more porous, providing cushion and airflow. The company has discontinued the exact model we use, but its covered in a polyester fleece that’s soft to the touch, yet easily vacuumed clean of fur.

The bed is designed to evenly distribute weight, and minimize pressure points. Perfect, I thought, for my aging dog’s sore joints. But, when it arrived and I put on the floor in the bedroom, for unknown reasons, Wiley returned to the comfort of the couch in the living room. The extra-large’s 48-inch length ($319) just about fits Teddy, though, and she immediately claimed it as her own. She now splits time between it and our bed. A huge win for my back and legs.

I’d all but given up on finding something for Wiley, until I saw Gunner’s new Homestead bed. That brand makes the strongest, safest kennels for transporting dogs in the back of your truck, and I’ve been impressed by the quality of their dog bowls, training bumpers, and other accessories, too. The Homestead is made not from foam, but by a three-dimensional loop construction that’s impervious to liquids and provides support through tension. That core is then sheathed in a machine-washable fabric complete with durable zippers, and a non-slip base.

It shops uncompressed, and when the gigantic box containing a large ($300) arrived, I just sliced it open, threw it on the floor, and Wiley climbed right into it. Then, he fell asleep. That was yesterday afternoon, and he spent the entire night on the thing, and even returned to it for a nap earlier this afternoon. I think we found a winner.

What about Boo Boo? He’d never dare to touch his big sister’s bed, but has been sneaking power naps in on the new Gunner anytime Wiley’s not looking. That’s less time spent covering human furniture in white hair, which is its own kind of win. I don’t think we’ll ever try to force him out of our bed at night though, simply for fear we might fully discharge his battery.

Wes Siler on Montana public lands with his three dogs. (Photo: Corey Lynn Tucker)

Wes Siler, our longtime outdoor lifestyle columnist, likes dogs more than people. You can ask him for help developing your own healthy diet for canines or other questions around the outdoors through his Substack newsletter.