He just leans on the laptop to shift it off my lap or walks on the keyboard. He knows it isn't real, so it doesn't pose any threat. Nancy, however, inspires deeper feelings. If she sits next to me on the couch for too long, he barks. If we talk for too long, he stares at me like his heart is broken.
Tonight, after an improv rehearsal, Nancy was already asleep when I got home. The pug was asleep at the foot of the bed. As I leaned down to kiss Nancy, Roscoe scurried up the blanket and wedged his head between us. His face was toward me.
Nothing like kissing pug wrinkles before bed.