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I’m the kind of pup that likes the outdoors. A romp through the grass, perhaps a few bird chases, or maybe even an attempt to get a hold of my tail (it suddenly dawned on me that it had been following me all day) make going out so much fun. But, when the yard is sticky and wet and soggy and cold, things aren’t that fun. So basically, I’ve only been going out to take care of a few necessities. A quick tinkle at the edge of the patio and I’m good to head back in. While there hasn’t been a sign of ice or fluffy snow for a while now, the ground is still soaked. The grass stays sticky and even gets tangled in some of my paw fur on occasion (those stickers give me a flat every now and then, making it worse). Rain falls from the dimly lit sky, making things even worse when I’m out, especially when it catches me by surprise. But I’ll tell you, the good thing about going out is coming back in. The warm air of the house feels great on my cold fur and there’s a special game I get to play. Because my paws are all wet and muddy, and it’s likely that my belly has attracted a few leaves and other debris, I’m in need of a little cleanup. Most times, I might be left to address this situation myself, but the old man seems to think it is way more fun if we play a game. Normally, the old man reserves those mini-blanket things we dry up with for bath time or after washing his paws, but we play a game with them today. After my time outside has soaked my best fur coat (my only coat, but it’s a great one), the old man surprises me at the door. I pop back inside and give a good shake to shed off the extra water that’s clinging to me. That’s when the old man hits me with it. The little blanket drops down on me, smelling quite fresh and clean. It’s supposed to smell like the forest, but I can smell all kinds of weird things that one might never find on a camping trip. But, getting back to the fact that I now have a blanket covering me, I’m pretty much confused. I can’t see anything, so I’ll have to rely on my hearing to find the best way to get out of here. I move to the left, but the blanket stays with me, tangling and confusing me even further. That’s when I feel the old man’s hands grab a hold of me and start rubbing me all over while he’s chanting something about warming up. I get the feeling it’s a game. So when I get a break of light, I wiggle my way out and propose a challenge. Catch me if you can! The old man tosses the towel at me again, but I’m quick, hopping just out of its reach. The old man tries again, tossing the towel at me, this time catching my tail. It’s stuck on me again, and chases me around the room until I get caught on the edge of the couch as I jump up. The old man won’t be able to get me so easily once I disappear under these cushions. I bury myself in my spot, digging deep under it. But it wasn’t enough. The old man tossed off my cover and tossed on another. I wiggled in the towel, wrestling as the old man tickled my belly and under my arms. Then the rolling began. Normally, this would be a trick I’d do on my own, but this time the old man must’ve felt obligated to make sure it wouldn’t be easy to get out of this situation. I wiggled around, trying to get out of my bindings. Finally, after enough wrestling, I was able to pop my head out of the rolled up towel, trying to figure out my next move. The old man moved for me. He picked me up, wrappings and all, and rubbed my nose and neck, tickling my whiskers just the way I like it. We sat down by the fire while my fur dried, kept warm by my little blanket and the old man’s arms. What a great ending to such a fun game. I might even have to go again in a little while.
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