The dog isn't sleeping.
Yes, she's splayed on the den carpet, on her side, flat as a rug and not moving. But she isn't sleeping.
The kid in the apartment downstairs is working the magnet again. No one has figured out her dilemma, and she's given up at this point.
Cody, because of course the boy's name is Cody, usually roams the parking lot writing swears in dusty car windows, but often he's indoors in "time out." And when he's in his room, it's a different story.
Roxy knew the moment after she ate the refrigerator magnet shaped like a hotdog that something was wrong. Hotdog wieners were never hanging on the outside of the fridge. The lady never put them there. It seemed too good to be true, and it was. Now Roxy was paying the price.
In his room, Cody loves to play with the giant magnet his uncle gave him. He's discovererd that when he stands on his bed and runs it along the popcorn ceiling, he hears a strange corresponding sound-- like something heavy and soft being moved across the floor upstairs. This makes him feel powerful and in control. He drags the magnet slowly, practicing writing invisible swears. Upstairs, a small heavy dog is dragged along the beige carpet in the shape of invisible swears, wondering what she's done to deserve this, and when the lady will be home to save her.
Of course Cody's attention span is short and fickle. Inevitably he loses interest. He runs back outside to wreak more havoc, but leaves the jumbo magnet hanging from the ceiling for hours at a time. Upstairs, Roxy with the wiener magnet holding her snug to the floor above Cody's room, lies resigned, dreaming of real hotdogs and freedom. Cursing gravity, which seems to attack her on her personal level.