How I sleep.

I slumber beneath 150 pounds of mixed-breed dog. You?

Jim snapped this when he got home last night, I guess I was the only one who slept through it.


When I worked in the pet specialty industry, our marketing department categorized shoppers into groups based on various habits and spending. A key indicator of a top-tier customer was allowing your dog to sleep in your bed.

*This does not happen every night. Only when Jim works late. Or if I get cold.

**I wash my bedding and my dogs frequently.

Happy Birthday, Bruno!

Bruno turned four on Christmas day, here’s what he had to say about it:


The picture below was taken two weeks earlier:


But look at how cute he was at eight weeks old. Seriously. Who can be mad at that face?


*And yes, as a matter of fact, our previous home did have pink carpeting. A true 1970s disaster relic. It was a rental, end of story.

An open letter to my dog

Dear Molly,

I’ve tried talking to you about this, but I’ve found that frankly – you aren’t always open to listening. Sometimes I swear you even pretend to be asleep when I lecture you, which is entertainingly clever, but also frustrating. You see, I have a problem with the way you crowd me when I try to work on my laptop. I understand that you enjoy snuggling, and that your sole joy in life is licking my face, but you are – how do I say this politely – a little heavier than I think you realize. It’s your pitbull genetics, surely not your diet, but it makes it a little awkward to have on top of me while I’m trying to type. It dawned on me recently that maybe you’re just doing your part to support awareness of your breed, and the fact that pits have a false reputation for being aggressive (I know, hard to believe for me, too). You are indeed a motivating ambassador for this effort, with your incredibly gentle nature, but dude – I’m already on your side. You don’t have to pin me to the couch and wag your tail until it knocks over my water glass to prove this. I’m hoping we can reach some sort of compromise moving forward. Maybe we designate a certain amount of time for snuggles every night, but then when I sit down to write, you spend some time doing doggie things and give me some space. I promise this is more about me than you, and it’s definitely not your breath. And I hope this helps explain why sometimes I have to put you outside in the yard at night, and discourages you from howling like a rabid wolf when I do so. On the same token, when you feel like you really need a walk or human food, I’ll do my best to make it happen. I love you dear puppy, and only want to make sure we’re both respectful of each others’ needs.