People Are Taking Pictures of Me While I Sleep
Note to other dog owners: If you start him out as tiny, cuddly, little lap dog when he is a puppy, he will continue to be a tiny, cuddly, little lap dog for the rest of his life. Seventy pounds of teensy-weensy, ittle-bittle, tiny, cuddly, little lap dog. The real questions are: How do we fit on the sofa like this and why doesn't having dog feet on my head seem to be bothering me? His feet smell like Fritos, for heaven's sake!
Anyways, here's a picture of my baby boy, my German Shorthair, Buddy. (accidentally thus named by calling him Buddy while we tried to decide what to name him. He also responds to Puppy, Stinky, and Hey You) You can tell he's my son by how many things we have in common: we're both horribly thin, sportily built, kinda spotty, either running amok or dead asleep with no "medium" setting, and fiendishly mad about birds.
Right now, he's flaked out in my bed. Three solid hours of fetch at the dog park will do that to you. I can feel his dog telepathy calling to me. "Nap, Kristina, Naaaap! You know you want to cuddle with me: I'm fuzzy and cute.....Soft, toasty, nummy bed....Naaaaaaap!!"