(Alternately titled: Poor, poor Max)
So last night I was fiddling around on my computer until the wee hours, and pupster Max was snoring in his bed behind my desk. When I finally was ready to sleep, I went to scoop him up to put him into my bed.
When I saw how he was positioned, though, I'm pretty sure I squealed several decibel levels higher than what's appropriate and then took a million pictures because he is SO ADORABLE. At 1 a.m. While he was trying to sleep. OBVIOUSLY I'm his favorite person ever. Allow me to show you:
[Peaceful slumber. Totally clueless that I'm about to take a quadzillion pictures and wake him up. PWECIOUS BAYBEE.]
[Awwww. And did you notice how I'm blatantly copying Dooce by instilling a modesty patch on Max? Except mine is labeled weinerschnitzel because he's a weiner dog and it's a weiner and I crack myself up.]
[HUZ. ZAH. LOVE. Am ever so slightly tempted to lick my computer monitor. Just me? Yes? Frack.]
Max: "Zzzzzxxnnxxxx-huhwha?! OH NO NOT THE CAMERA."
Max: "Maaaaaybe if I roll over, she'll realize I'm trying to sleep since it's ONE A.M. and leave me alone. I don't think I'm being unreasonable."
Max: [Pretends to be asleep.]
Max: "This isn't working. She's just getting closer to me with that camn damera."
Max: "OH SHE IS IN MY FACE. SHE IS IN MY FACE WITH THE CAMERA. AT ONE A.M. SOMEBODY CALL PETA. I DO NOT GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS."
Max: "This is effing ridiculous. I mean, I know my widdle nosey-poo is adorable and all, but COME ON."
Max: "I. give. up."
And then I put down the camera and snuggled with him and fed him a carrot. Because he is part reindeer. And it was 1 a.m. And then the end.