Havanese

You're sitting on the couch and your Havanese is draped across your lap like a living throw blanket, one paw resting on your arm as if to say 'I'm not done with you yet.' They followed you from the kitchen to the bathroom to the bedroom and now here, because in their world there is no room in this house that doesn't require their supervision. That springy, silky coat bouncing as they trot beside you — they don't walk, they prance, like a tiny parade float that wandered off the route and decided your hallway was better. They'll roll onto their back mid-conversation, flash those dark round eyes from under a cascade of fur, and suddenly you're the one performing tricks for them. Your Havanese didn't just join your family. They reorganized it, put themselves at the center, and somehow made everyone grateful for the promotion.