the last living dinosaur

[think kit. day six.*] THE COUCH // CHICAGO — There’s a Snorasaurus in my apartment. Two, actually. They’re nocturnal beasts, and they’re very cute.

I call MW the Snorasaurus when he’s snoring. I’d say it to Marvin, too, but he wouldn’t understand (or stop snoring, for that matter). Calling my guys Snorasauruses is my way of making an annoying trait seem endearing, and I think my strategy worked.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been alone. There have been business trips, late nights at work and weekends with friends, meaning I’ve fallen asleep without having to ignore the sounds of a Snorasaurus. And of course, I missed it.

So when I picked up Marvin on Saturday after many nights without my Snorasauruses, we immediately snuggled up for a long nap. For many reasons, that’s what we did all weekend. We stayed in bed, and when I wasn’t flooding my senses with Netflix, I lay there taking in the sweet murmur of puppy snores.

Familiarity is underrated.


[*think kit is a daily blog challenge that I’ve been failing at miserably. think kit jan. 6 prompt: Do you hear what I hear? Tell us about a sound. What do you hear in your house or at work?]

{image: my snorasauruses.} 


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