...Er, um, Hello!

My name is Augustus. I have parents. Sometimes life can be difficult. I possess the great skill of being able to charm the socks off of anyone who chances to spot me, a rare occurrence indeed. [The spotting, that is; not the charming!]
However, for you, Dear Reader, I am prepared to divulge my deepest thoughts and perspective of the world, mostly because if I don't tell somebody what is going on around here, I am going to pop!
But be warned, proceed with caution: Living with Mummy and Dad can be rather harrowing at times...

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Confession of a Lug

I hurt Mummy today and feel really bad about it. I can’t help it, you see – I have these gargantuan feet and sometimes they get a bit carried away with themselves, and, well, I get carried away with them. (I am rather attached to them!) What happened was this: Mummy was working at her desk, tapping on the computer like usual, not paying me the slightest bit of attention. I tried trilling a light tune when I walked into the room but that didn’t work - either she can’t hear or she is deaf, not sure which. Anyway, I slid over and nudged her leg with my head – nothing. Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap…. Next, I ran up the stairs really fast which I thought must get her attention – I’m not exactly noted for my energy efficiency. Still nothing. Tap, tap-tap-tap, tap….
So I jumped up on the coffee table, the corner of which is about 2 feet away from Mummy’s chair. I leaned over and put my feet on her bare shoulder, still singing to capture her attention, and it worked this time! But unfortunately, the distance was a bit more than could bear my weight, and just as she was turning around to speak to me, I lost my balance. The only thing I could find to cling to was Mummy’s shoulder, so instinctively I unsheathed my claws and dug in. My back feet slipped, and there I was, hanging from that skinny ledge, trilling louder than ever, Mummy crying for me to let go. But how could I? I mean, I can’t lift 32 pounds! Mummy had to lean over so my feet would touch the floor and I could let go. I figured that was the end of the conversation (I had pretty much forgotten what I wanted to say anyway, what with all the excitement), so I biffed off to another room. Mummy went to the bathroom, and I followed from a safe distance, peeking 'round the corner to observe; she pulled out all manner of gauze and Q-tips (I love Q-tips! I secretly hoped she would let me have one to play with but something told me now was not a good time to ask). Then she dabbed alcohol on the wounds and cried a bit ‘cause it stung.
Next, she got out a measuring tape and confirmed that the disaster area is over 3” across with 5 gaping holes where my claws went in! She looked at me, and I lowered my head, realizing I had been careless. But guess what!? Mummy DIDN’T get mad at me!! She said I should be more careful next time but she forgave me! She came toward me to pat my head but I backed away, still a bit uncertain about my standing (I thought she might want to wallop me or something). Finally she grabbed me and kissed me on my head, which I felt compelled to tolerate under the circumstance (she can be a bit smushy sometimes).  I am so relieved to know she forgives me, and I never want to make a klutz of myself again. I do try to be careful but being a big boy, it is sometimes hard. I will work on that ‘cause I don’t like to hurt Mummy.
I am just glad she still loves me; otherwise, I might not get dinner!

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