It's barely 7 AM when something wet and warm presses against my cheek. I already know what it is without even need to open my eyes.
I groan, turning slightly, but the persistent licks continue. There's a muffled bark, a tiny woof, and the sound of a wagging tail thumping against the couch. I open one eye.
Mellow is hovering over me, tongue out, wearing the miniature Santa hat we bought her a few days ago. It sits crooked on her head, the fluffy white pompom bobbing with every excited movement.
I chuckle, still bleary. "Morning, you menace."
She responds with another bark and a nuzzle into my face. Her fur is soft and warm from sleep, and her breath smells faintly of kibble. Her happiness is so full, so unfiltered, it washes the last of my sleep away.
