The crazee house

I was brushing my teeth last night when a gigantic moth flew into the bathroom, circling around me. Toothbrush in mouth, waving my arms above my head, I ran shrieking into the family room. The poor dog, roused from her narcotic coma, cocked her head at me and jumped up. Without thinking, I pointed to the bathroom and sputtered "go get it!" 

Surprisingly, she did. In fact, she jumped into the tub after the moth, leaped out and ricocheted off the toilet before jumping straight up to catch it. And then she walked calmly to me, dropped it at my feet, and sat down. By this point I'd already snorted toothpaste foam from laughing so hard. As it pathetically tried to fly away, bumping along the ground, Gazza kept picking it up and dropping it back at my feet. 

Figuring she didn't want to eat it (not that I blame her), I got the nerve up to squish the poor moth and toss it away. As I knelt down to give Gazza a hug and scratch her ears, she gave me one lick on the cheek. I was stunned.

I can count on one hand the number of times Gazza has "kissed" me. So tell me, how is it that she saved me last night and I get a kiss for it?