The last couple of days have been... well... crappy. You know the kind of days where you wish you hadn't woken up?
Yeah... like that.
So as I lie in bed, not wanting to "man-up" and get on with my day, I'm greeted by a 25-pound ball of wool that jumps up on the bed and starts to lick my face.
Snax is so happy I'm awake.
She runs out and grabs her squeaky ball and drops it on my chest. I throw it out of the room and she takes off after it. Not 10 seconds later, she's back with the ball in her mouth, begging me to throw it again.
We play for a little while and then I head downstairs and make breakfast.
Snax stays by my feet, waiting patiently, hoping I drop some cheese on the floor for her. I don't. We then move to the computer room where I check email and she curls up on my feet, letting me know she's there and wants to be with me.
How did she know I was sad? How did she know I needed some "puppy kisses" to motivate me to get out of bed? How is she able to make me forget about the stuff that's weighing me down? How is she able to pull the "old AJ" out, when we thought he died a long time ago?
I never understood "dog people", and the weird connection they had with their pets... Now I think I might be one of them.