Spot sits and watches and listens, dozing happily by my feet as if he's lived here forever. Occasionally, he rests his head on my knee for a hug. What an old shmooze.
There's a Jacob fleece over the back of the settee. While I'm tidying up, Spot follows me and brushes past it. Stops, sniffs and then, proving that there's life in the old boy yet, grabs it gleefully and promptly tries to show it a good time. "Gerroff!", I holler. Guilty, he drops it to the floor and I replace it on the back of the settee and return to the kitchen. He doesn't follow. That sixth sense, the one that becomes finely tuned by small children when they're silent, kicks in.
Back to the sitting room. He drops the fleece immediately and tries to claim that it was coming on to him. But there's a small tuft of wool sticking out of the side of his mouth.
I'll be glad when the hormones wear off. No soft furnishings are safe from Don Spotivani till then. And I'm hoping we don't get a cold snap over Easter since I'm not putting my sheepskin coat back on while he's still frisky.
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I'm sitting here laughing so much about the sheep fleece! I have a sheep fleece, I bought it for Ferg to lay on when he was old but Molly used to grab it and throw it about the room with a bit of mad running thrown in for good measure.
ReplyDeleteThe best revenge for sheep fleece abuse is to put the fleece on the dog, it wil fit very well and voila, you have a fleecey-sheep-dog it's very funny and none of mine seem to even notice!
Glad you are settling in well Spot, I told you you'd have a good life with MBNAD Woman.