Monkey, age 3 months, is doing very well. Aside from the fact that he's a morning pooper and dislikes immensely pooping in temperatures below freezing, preferring, instead, the warm wooden floors of the indoors, he is shaping up to be a delightful addition to our little family. He adores humans and his own species never fails to get his butt wiggling. He loves the cats, too, though to date, that is an unrequited love. He's a big fan of snuggling, under any circumstances. He walks on his leash like a champ already. We are all very much enamoured of our Monkey.
Lola found her most terrifying enemies in the lawn mower, which she bravely chased down, even nipping at when the opportunity presented itself, and the jump rope. Nothing set that dog in nervous, barking, leaping motion like someone jumping rope. To date, Monkey is aggressive toward the vacuum cleaner, yet, respectfully frightened of it. The playroom holds for him the greatest terrors, even though the vacuum cleaner is seldom found in there.
First, there's the musical Curious George mat, a gift to the girls from my parents. It's usually on, and lives on the floor, dangerously close to the doorway. Anyone innocently entering the room runs a high risk of causing the thing to bark, yelp, moo, snort or sing; Monkey is no exception. In fact, he has figured out how to do it on purpose.
Then there's that gerbil-thing Aunt Jo Jo picked up for Sarah several months ago. Who knew it would become the sought-after Christmas gift for 2009? It lacks a name around here, but we are all mildly amused by it. I like to tap it on its back from time to time just to set its weird little show in motion. The cats, to my surprise, are unmoved by it. Monkey, however, finds it tantalizing. I think the fact that it can back itself out of a corner is particularly off-putting to Monkey. How does it know? Monkey is probably right to be afraid. An army of those things, properly motivated and led, could take over. That would make them less cute, to be sure.