After yesterday’s gross post, I will have nicer things to say today.
It’s become clear, Sasha needs a sibling.
I’ve been watching him try to get the dogs to play with him. Unfortunately, he’s still so much a baby that he doesn’t understand why dogs don’t play cars or puzzles and becomes frustrated. And when he gets overly emotional—be it happy or sad—he starts hitting. So I’ve had to be extra careful to watch when that little thing in his brain is about to snap so we can save the poor furballs.
Yes, he tries to make the dogs play puzzles or whatever it is he’s playing. He’ll even put the toys between their paws and try to make their feet go like hands.
We have very patient animals.
And no, I’m DEFINITELY not pregnant. My cravings and tiredness are apparently seasonal or some nameless “other.”