Tiny Dog, Olympic-Level Snoring 🐾

There is something no one prepares you for when you adopt a small pet.

Not the zoomies.
Not the side-eye.
Not even the dramatic sighs when you dare move during cuddle time.

It’s the snoring.

Somehow, in a body that weighs less than a bag of flour, lives the lung capacity of a mid-size man who just finished a long shift and has earned his rest.

Enter: Lola.

Lola is tiny. Adorable. Sweet.
And when she sleeps?
She sounds like she’s sawing logs in a forest she personally owns.

I’ll be sitting there in complete silence — no TV, no music — and suddenly…

RRRRRNNNNKKK… snffff… RRRNNNNKKK.

I look around like, Is there a stranger in my house? Did someone break in just to nap?
Nope. It’s Lola. Curled up. Living her best life. Completely unbothered.

The funniest part?
She snores with confidence.

There’s no hesitation. No apology.
Just full commitment to rest.

And honestly? I respect it.

Because here’s the thing — that loud snoring means she feels safe.
Safe enough to let her guard down.
Safe enough to relax every tiny muscle.
Safe enough to sound like she’s auditioning for a sleep study.

It’s oddly comforting.

Sure, sometimes I wish I could record it and play it back so we could laugh together.
But I already know how that would go.
She’d stare at me, tilt her head, and then snore louder — just to establish dominance.

Living with small pets teaches you a lot.
Including this important life lesson:

Never underestimate the noise potential of anything that fits in your lap.

Tiny dogs. Big snores.
And a house that somehow feels warmer because of it.

Even if it sounds like a freight train rolling through the living room.