Showing posts with label oven mitts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oven mitts. Show all posts

Friday, November 19, 2010

Seriously?

I'm sure all of you dear readers are aware that I play a bit rough.  I'm a husky, rough is how we like it! 

Given that I'm not allowed to play with the delicate and easily breakable Spineless Bionic Hip/knee pup Sam, and that the Mutatoe screams like a scalded weasel and runs to the Human Woman if I even look at him sideways.  When I first landed in this house, I was suppose to be the trusted companion of the Nova Old Guy-Guy, but he was so creaky that I couldn't sufficiently play with him either, which left me with the Human Woman.

She's worthless for being chased or chasing, and she's horrible at ricocheting off furniture unless I push her down, which still isn't graceful, but it sure is funny.  We also play a game where she "hides" and I walk by her, "oblivious" to her presence until she jumps out and "scares" me, and I run away.  Yeah, yeah, that's all fine and good, but a husky needs to wrestle!  I need a victim... I mean playmate, that I can grab by the scruff of the neck, throw down, and stomp on... and she bleeds too easy and screams.

The other night we got going with a round of "I'm going to bite your arm for touching my freakin feet", and she was whining and complaining (and bleeding all over the place) right after we started.  That sure puts a damper on play time... but she said she had a fantastic idea and left the room.  When she came back, she was wearing oven mitts!


Seriously?  Oven mitts?  You're going to attack me wearing oven mitts?  How can I play with something that's wearing oven mitts?  It really takes away from the danger and intrigue when the victim is wearing big fluffy oven mitts, and I certainly couldn't concentrate on severing a finger when the oven mitts smelled like all sorts of tasty past cooked foods and gunk.

I'm trying to convince her that she should also don some steak shin guards.