My Dog Moose

My dog Moose is a pill. But he's also pretty much the best.

Moose is always down to snuggle. In fact, if you're not snuggling with him, he's just not sure what to do with himself. Whenever I am cleaning or cooking, or just doing something that isn't snuggling, he wanders around and barks randomly until I put a blanket down on the floor next to wherever I am doing my thing. He'll resign to curling up on the blanket and watching me for a while, but gets bored of all this non-snuggle time, and starts wandering again.

Moose hates the front door. A few weeks ago I painted my door dark brown. It used to just be plain boring white, didn't stand out from the wall or trim. Now it's lovely, warm, rich and beautiful. Moose hates it. I don't know if he thinks it's evil now or what. Or maybe now he's just suddenly noticed that there's a door there, that people can enter through, and he's trying to protect his home/person? I don't know what it is, but effin a, it's annoying.

He's also just started doing a new thing in the mornings. I go to get him out of bed to go downstairs and he just kind of...melts into the bed? It's magical. He sinks down as low as he can then rolls to his side. As if he's trying to become one with the bed. "No mom! Don't make me get up! It's warm here!" I tried to capture this progression, but you only slightly get the idea of his melting abilities.

It cracks me up every morning. And then I pick him up and drag him out of bed anyway.

Moose is very picky with who he likes. He used to pretty much hate everyone except for me, my mom, and the woman who gave him to me, Robin. With a lot of socializing and going to the dog park, I'm happy to say that, after three years, this list has expanded to me, my mom, Robin, my dad (kind of), a couple of friends of mine, and my boyfriend. But no one else.

Moose is a traitor. Moose loves my boyfriend more than he loves me. Whenever my boyfriend comes over, Moose falls all over himself in a whackattack of excitement. He 100% looks forward to their bro time and I instantly become second fiddle. Or last chair clarinet, as was my position in 7th grade band.

I can get Moose back with snacks though. He's a whore for snacks. 

So that's my dog. This post is not about baking. Dogs rule and cats drool.