My roommate and I puppy sat from Friday evening to this morning. I am exhausted.

Ava, the 8-month-old yellow lab, was a handful, and I was constantly reminded why I do not have my own puppy (or child, for that matter). But despite my inability to house a dog long-term because (a) I don’t know where I am going to be in three months, (b) our home is not big enough to house a large dog, and (c) I don’t have that kind of money, I am a pretty good puppy sitter.

Puppy was fun to have around the house, despite her need for constant attention. She was also been a good source of laughs.

Saturday evening, I passed out on the couch watching TV and woke up in the middle of the night with her asleep on top of me. She had crawled onto my lap and placed her head on my chest, falling asleep, too.

Sunday, she “helped” (I’ll use this term loosely since she didn’t hop up onto the counter and grab the mixer with her freakishly large paws) with the baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies the boy and I had made. She stretched her body across the kitchen floor (which is maybe three times her size — yes, it’s that small, and she is that big) and passed out beneath our feet while we mixing the batter and baking it.

As a dog who feels the need to investigate everything (yes, Ava, that sprig of grass across the street looks fishy, but you don’t need to check it out every time I take you outside), we were extremely lucky she didn’t stick her head in the oven to check it out and make sure everything was OK.

And while she was sometimes obnoxiously energetic, I do miss Ava. She’s no longer here to greet us when we get home or wake up, and there’s nothing cuter than her tail wagging spastically.

It was also nice having a walking partner who wanted to walk any/every time you passed the door. She’s kind of like the dog I have always dreamed of, sitting next to the door, leash in mouth, and wagging her tail as if to say, ‘Let’s take a walk,’ minus the calm sitting and holding a leash in her mouth.