Dogs really are a human bean’s (pun intended) best friend. I know, it’s a bit cliche, but my puppy, (whom is really not a puppy because she’s four-years-old (~28 in dog years) is relentlessly and irrevocably obsessed with all things, especially, me.

In fact, as I am drafting this article, she is literally sitting half on top of me (not that there’s much room there as I’m quite a little human bean, nope, not done with that pun yet). She is also on my laptop and is continuously snuggling her face into areas where she should not be snuggling her face because now I have to lean over the furball-extravaganza that is my fluffy white friend over here just to type. Annoying.

But, as satirical as this constant occurrence can render itself to be, she (Snow, her name is Snow, probably because she’s a shedding white mess and a native of Minnesota) does this because she loves me.

I can’t imagine why she does, when all I really do is feed her, play occasionally, and sit around doing people things while she marvels at whatever it is I’m doing. She is constantly probably thinking something along the lines of “Kenzie, you’re a weirdo” or “Seriously, what on Earth are you doing and why do humans do such odd things all the time?"

Really, she would likely be contented if we just stayed in bed having cuddle parties and eating popcorn (the infamous favorite dog treat) or playing with the rope. Be warned however, that my dog is bizarre in more ways than one, especially when it comes to expressing her “luff” (yes, that is how I imagine a dog would say “love”, ignore my crappy attempt at satire), allow me to elaborate.

For one, Snow is a member of what I’ve deemed “lickers anonymous." Okay really, while I’m typing, is that entirely necessary? Yes, I get it dog, you love me, don’t need to repeatedly lick the same surface on my wrist for twenty minutes straight to prove that to me. Also, it tickles, get a new hobby, seriously. You might proclaim, “Hey, why don’t you just move your arm?” Woah, genius alert! The problem with Snow is if I do that, she will simply place her paw on top of my arm and hold it down so she can continue her slobbery assault of my wrist. She is a licking machine, and when she’s happy or on bored, she initiates auto-licking and goes wild until you inevitably get exhausted by it and a little grossed out and yell at her to stop licking. This sudden expressive outburst will naturally make her freeze, contemplate her choices for a solid 10 seconds, and then resume her audition tape for My Strange Addiction. And if you are finally pushed past the breaking point and threaten to send her to licker’s anonymous, if you’re lucky, she’ll take five.

Second thing is that Snow really is a big fan of her peng-wang (as Benedict Cumberbatch would pronounce “Penguin”. Look it up on YouTube, thank me later). Most dogs would love to chew up a squirrel toy or a chipmunk, or I don’t know a bird maybe, but a penguin is not often the immediate selection. This is because a dog is like a small child and a vending machine. Will they choose the granola bar or trail mix, or will they want that giant KitKat bar or a bag of artificially-colored rainbow goodness? Gee, I wonder.

Snow however, is that one child who wants the trail mix. She literally will not chew up, play with, or even touch an animal toy, unless it is a penguin. Picky much? She is worse than my Dad, who only eats pizza, a plain burger (yeah, that means meat and bun, sans everything else completely), meat (un-marinated), corn, and potatoes). No offense Dad, just making a point here, don’t mind me.

Of course, moral of the story here is that despite my puppy’s strange preferences and habits, she is one of the best friends I could ever have. All because of the unconditional love and some other mushy sappy whatever.