Thursday, February 11, 2010

The diabolical Mr. Furkins

Mr. Furkins and I have an odd relationship. He likes to be near me, but generally speaking, I don't like being near him. He prides himself on being smelly, and I'm not a fan of sitting next to smelly things. I think most of the time, he hangs out by me because he knows it irritates me. The rest of the time, he hangs out next to me hoping to incite me to play. Sometimes I give in and play, and other times I'll playfully pick up the toy he wants me to throw and I put it in his toy basket that is just out of his reach. He gets very annoyed with me when I do that.

I'm hard on Mr. Furkins, who happens to be my scapegoat. I call him a free loader (technically he is). I startle him awake just to see his reaction (it varies between shock and annoyance). I chase him around the house. I sneak up on him and make him jump. I hover over him and demand pony rides and then berate him when he lays down and looks at me like I'm insane for even thinking he [a sixteen pound dog] could give me a ride. It's all in good fun, but I'm sure some days Oscar probably wishes he spent his days with a normal person.

Most of the time I think I'm in control of Mr. Furkins, but sometimes an exchange will occur where I realize that the four footed creature has assumed the upper hand. Today I decided to be nice and play ball with Oscar. Typically I like to throw the ball so that he has to either race down the basement steps to get it (during which time I turn off the basement lights and close the door at the top of the steps) or I toss it down the hall at the front door. When I throw it at the front door, I usually try to get the ball before he has a chance. Oscar is not always a fan of this style of play. Every few throws I let him get the ball so he can feel good about himself. Today I was being nice and tossing the ball so he could get it every time, and then it happened. I realized that he was walking away from the ball and essentially making me get it. He happily pony trotted away after I caught on to the ruse. I feel a little stupid now that I realize the dog was watching me scamper around the kitchen picking up the ball only to throw it back to him. I'm so happy Bryan and the kids didn't witness me playing fetch.

1 comment:

  1. I think Mr. Furkins must be part corgi; Koda does the same thing, making me fetch his ball or rope. is Mr. Furkins Bryan's dog?



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