And I shall call him...

The puppy is still alive and squeaking. I should know. He's been squeaking all day and night. I haven't slept in 32 hours lol. But we think he'll pull through. Right now he has a milk mustache and is letting his mother know that he strongly disapproves of this thing called "cleaning". This is strongly reminding me of why I never, ever want to be a mother.

I've decided he shall be called Cap, because Steve is my brother and I have a limit to my available creepy when I'm this tired. I figure, this close to July and born weak, it can't hurt to invoke the age old tradition of luck.