This Sunday morning I'm sitting here at the computer doing a little research on Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, and union organization attempts among their employees. It's kind of cold in the apartment, but I could turn on the heater and I haven't so it can't be that bad.

Normally in a situation and time like this, Lily Bug would be snuggling herself in a burrito-shaped pile of blankets and puppy on my bed. Her routine is to go back to bed after breakfast, since that's when I leave for work during the week, and when I'm home on the weekends, if I'm not in the bedroom, to her it's as if I'm not home, which is fine. She needs her Lily-time, as do we all.

However, for some reason Lily has decided she needs to be where I am this morning. She still needs to satisfy her morningtime sleepy quota, so that means she is curled up in my lap, my hand holding her little dog-butt in place, while the rest of her body is snuggled inside the sweatshirt I'm wearing, with her head resting in the armpit against my shoulder. No, I did not position her this way. She did that by herself.

And at the risk of a gag-me cuteness factor, I needed to put that out there because it's been a rough week, and my Lily knows it. My ex had a very hard time when I moved Lily across the country to live with me, understandably. She's still pretty angry about it. But R, even though you're not reading this, I don't know if will make any difference to you, but I want you to know that THIS DOG HAS KEPT ME ALIVE AND SAFE MORE TIMES THAN I CAN COUNT THESE PAST FEW MONTHS. And I mean that specifically - literally. She is a major reason I'm not dead.