My son, Drake, is basically the reason we have animals living in our house. After I had four babies, I really didn't care to clean up after any more living creatures. But ever since Drake could talk, he asked for animals to live with us. It was as if he didn't realize that regular people owned pets, and he concocted all sorts of ways in which an animal might end up living in a house.
One day he said, "I think I could get an old cereal box and stick it in a tree to trap a bird. Then I could make the bird live in my room." Another day he said, "If I put a nut in a jar, I could trap a squirrel, and then it could sleep in my bed." One time he did catch a fly, pulled off it's wings, and said he had made an ant to play with.
After that we decided to get the boy a dog. We were afraid for the animal kingdom. So, Drake is usually the one who volunteers to do the dog related jobs, like baths, walks, and using the dog as a pillow.When the mountains of fur got too much for my nerves, Drake volunteered to attack the dog with The Furminator. The dog does not yet know that this tool is his friend. It is how he lives with us longer. So, I sent Drake outside with Arrow (the husky) and The Furminator and didn't hear anything for about twenty minutes. Then I looked out my kitchen window and saw Arrow, ears slicked back, running as if he had indeed been shot from a bow. The next thing I saw was this...
Yes, that is Drake chasing Arrow with a dustbuster. Yes, his hair is a lot longer. Yes, both of his feet are off of the ground.
Apparently Arrow's shedding was too much for The Furminator to handle, and Drake used his creative problem solving strategies to come up with something more effective. Well done, Drake. Well done.
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