Sunday, August 25, 2013

August 25. Day 237. Bad hair day

I used to think that when it came to pure destructive power, my son was unrivalled.
When Cyclone Oliver whipped through previously tidy (well tidy-ish) house, it was impossible to miss the trail of destruction left behind.
I now know he is but a novice. The real force of fury in our home is the five kilos of fur known as Hurricane Rumple.
His puppy enthusiasm knows no bounds nor does his ability to get into everything. Everything is put up out of reach but he manages to get it anyway. I've lost count of how many rolls of toilet paper have been shredded. Now the battle for the non-fur family members is actually getting to some when nature calls since the most convenient spots are well within the grasp of the evil one's paws.
I've tried sitting him down and having a good eye to eye chat but there are three problems with that
1) I'm not all the fluent in puppy speak.
2) It's impossible to find his eyes under all that fur and
3) He knows I find him too damn cute to be angry for too long.
So he just sticks his tongue out at me and gets on with it. Just as well you are cute Rumple, just as well.

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