Joined at the hip.

My first conscious thought this morning was how nice and cozy I felt, lying in bed, listening to the wind and snow blowing around outside, with a little black and white dog nestled under the covers, curled up next to my hip. (Yes, that's one heck of a run-on sentence, but I don't care very much about grammar before my eyes are open.)

Piper is a good little dog; we're very attached to her and she to us. More and more, though, I'm realizing that as fond as she is of Hubby, she's decided she's my dog. It's probably only a 50.1 to 49.9 split, but I have the edge. And it's kind of nice to be someone's favourite person in the whole world.

I'm sure this is why God invented dogs in the first place.