I don't talk about him much on here (maybe because he is always at my feet?), but this is our puppy, Napoleon Bonaparte. We named him after the Little Emperor because, well, he looked like he thought he was a little king and "Simba" wasn't going to cut it. He was my birthday present last year and this is honestly the first non-phone photograph I have taken of him where he's not rushing the camera. He is the craziest little fur ball and he thinks he runs our house and sometimes this little fact is ridiculously embarrassing. He's barely ten pounds and, two weeks ago, he squeezed past my legs when a delivery man came and he chased him all the way to the parking lot. Also, the past few nights, I've woken up at three in the morning to hear him prancing out of our room and into the living room and back and forth and back and forth like a security guard during the night watch.
He. Is. Crazy.
We love him anyway.
(Did I mention I am embarrassingly proud of this photograph? No really. I am.)