I, Mango, so look forward to Momma's return from the work place. Weather permitting, I ask to wait on the observation deck as soon as I finish my evening meal so that I can monitor for her approach. As soon as I spot the mastiff mobile coming up the driveway, I begin my mastiff love song.
I know that momma has missed me too and has been busy collecting icky work smells, so I figure my first priority is to rub as much of myself on her as possible. Thus, her entry into the yard is met with most vigorous head butts and body slams. The Pea seems determined to stick his snooter in her eye socket and is all jumping cracker dog.
Now, for reasons which are unclear, this can make momma grouchy, especially when she has actually taken the time to put on the "work clothes" instead of nasty jeans.
So I decided that perhaps instead of mugging her, a more appropriate greeting would be to bring her a stuffie. Of course the midget always emulates my good example. Here we are heading for the toy basket.
I, Mango, am most serious about this and always take the time to consider which stuffie will make her the most joyful on any particular day.
Kitteh or moose, kitteh or moose...
But the indiscriminate labradoink just grabs whatever is on top and thrusts it in her lap most cracker.
Forcing me to abandon my mission and give him a smack down.
Get out of momma's face, fool!
Followed by placement of my large and never quite totally clean head in momma's lap to comfort her after the labrattack which results in slobbers on her work clothes and kind of renders the whole "get a toy instead of mugging me" exercise null and void. Sigh.
Mango Man! Oh yeah!
P.S. I have come to learn that the reason momma is mental fits of late is that she and master are adopting a foster house. That's right. A sad little house that needs lots of TLC before it is ready for its furever family. Apparently the deal will be sealed on Friday and then there will be many photos, so stay tuned.