The soothing effects of Ira Glass

Last weekend, I gladly took on the responsibilty of house-sitter and dog-sitter for one of my aunts. My aunt has Jack, a Maltese mix, who is very cute and friendly. He's one of those dogs who would open the door for burglars if they could. Thank goodness for the canine's lack of opposable thumbs and the ability to walk upright.

On my last night at the house, after many unsuccesful attempts of watching TV and in the process, missing the return of "SNL" (can't deal with those HDTV's, damn you controllers!), I decided to tune in to NPR. It was only almost-10pm and I was just in time to catch the re-broadcast of "This American Life" and later, my favorite, "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me...". Let me say again that Jack is a very happy and VERY active dog, but as soon as Ira Glass started talking this started to happen:

And right before the first act, this happened:

I don't remember much after I took that picture, I woke up at 1am cuddled next to Jack.