Max, the talking dog

At 1:30 this morning, my dog began talking to me.
Max hasn’t talked to me before, but as I trudged from the bedroom carrying my pillow into the living room, he looked at me in disgust and said “Really? You are the master of this house, but you get kicked out of bed by the smallest one in the house? I’ve lost all respect for you.”

Molly is only 5 months old, and is still nursing. When she wakes up at night, my sweetheart will often bring Molly to bed with her, so that she can still get some sleep too. But Molly likes to kick daddy when he is in ‘her spot’, so I go sleep on the couch.

This happens a couple of times a week, and it really isn’t a big deal, but apparently Max thinks it’s pathetic.