Pomeranian

The delivery guy is, categorically, a suspect, despite a spotless record so far. I remain vigilant regardless, and more than a little exhausting about it. This is not up for debate.

I operate at all times as though I'm considerably larger than I am. I've declared war on a specific leaf outside the window and I'm winning. The couch is mine, you may sit on the edge of it.

I bark. This is not a phase, it's core personality, and training only ever nudges the volume down slightly. Please also never shave my coat to cool me off, it's doing important thermal work, not a fashion choice. I contain multitudes, most of them loud.

You find a tiny dog with a big mouth charming rather than concerning. You do noise training early and take the small victories where you can get them. And you accept that the leaf outside stays an active threat, permanently, no negotiation.

I've got a five minute grudge against the vacuum cleaner that resets itself every single time. Neither of us has learned anything from this.

Swipe right. I'm loud, I'm tiny, and I answer to absolutely no one.