I realize at some point, the amount of which one talks about their pets (or children) can be annoying and signify a downward trend from the excitement of youth in one's life. However, as I haven't done it yet, I'll introduce you to Mr Owen Fluoride. Two pounds of adorable netherland dwarf humor. Since I work from home, on most days, he's all I have to talk to. But I tell you, the amount of joy and trouble this little furball can achieve is monumental for his size.
Owen's disposition calls for attention usually in subtle ways. We've trained ourselves to diagnose the sound of different kinds of chewing. But usually to get our attention, he gives us licks here and there, a tug to your sock, etc. Move from room to room and he will follow and form himself into a puff under the plantstand, chair, desk or sofa. While he's a quiet fellow, he will on rare ocassions come barging into the room with much gusto, spin around, do a flip and then race out. He's also taken to playing with the little leftover baskets from our wedding favors. He likes to put them on his head and walk in front of us. Then stand up on his hind legs to make sure we see him, then pull it off with is paws. He then does the whole routine again. What a little ham!
Usually though, he's pretty quiet. His latest trick though, is one he's done before.
He's been torturing my remote control. Slowly and methodically over the last week. When we aren't around he's been going into our bedroom - which he knows is our space. I know this because he doesn't leave his calling cards in there. He then jumps up onto the bed, makes his way over to my side, goes to my nightstand, and removes just one button off the remote. First it was the SLEEP button (my favorite), then the VOLUME UP and finally, last night I noticed we could no longer MUTE. He doesn't advertise this to us in anyway, like drop the button in front of us like a trophy. No, he waits until I'm tired and he's been put away for the night to remind me he ultimately has (remote) control.