Moving on from crazy (kind of)

So I've been slacking again on the blog front.  Sorry.  There's the whole grief thing.  And the whole real life responsibilities thing.  And the whole I'm-obsessively-watching-all-the-back-episodes-of-Desperate-Housewives-in-order-on-Netflix thing. 

But I don't want my "I'm crazy. No, really." post to be front and center forever, so here's a little recent happening that I cartoonized for you.

You remember our new boxer, Tank, right?  And you know that he's nigh-on 80 pounds of awesome, yes?

Well, yesterday while Nature Boy and I were watching Cowboys and Aliens (also awesome), Tank decided to make like a cat and climb up on the back of the couch for a snooze.  There was no way his big ol' self was going to fit on an 8-inch span of sofa, but he gave it a good boxer try.  He balanced precariously for 20 seconds or so and then he fell.  On top of my shoulders!  One would think he would be worried that this would irritate me.  One would think he would have immediately climbed down and slunk away to avoid my wrath.  One would be wrong.

Instead of lumbering off the couch, he wrapped himself around my shoulders like a shawl.  Stubby boxer butt on one side of me; adorably wrinkly snout on the other.  Then he fell asleep.  Which means he started snoring.  Loudly.

I let him stay perched on my shoulders because I wanted Nature Boy to get a picture of the ridiculous situation I found myself in.  Unfortunately, he couldn't find my camera.  Which means no pictures for you! 

So you'll just have to settle for this.