I know I've fallen silent here, and I'm sorry. I've been trying not to complain, at least, not all the time.
You see, Drake has been being a) high energy and b) a brat. We make jokes about it, and he's damn loving and cute when he's loving and cute, and those two factors together are about the only things keeping him alive right now.
Take last night as an example. We had settled in to watch television, and Drake was in his winding down mode. He'd flop down and sprawl for a little while, maybe chew on a tennis ball for a while, then he'd get up and roam around.
Drake gets a certain look in his eyes at that time. We talk about him as a great white shark. He's moving in arcs, maybe circles, looking for something to chew on. Last night, it was a pencil sharpener.
We'd thought it was safe. It was sitting on an end table, behind my glass of soda, and he never knocks food over. Well, we'd underestimated his sneaky striking ability. Zip, he was in and out, and crunch, the pencil sharpener was a pile of plastic shards and pencil shavings. Why? We haven't got a clue. He felt like it.
We haven't lost anything valuable, but we're losing rolls of toilet paper, getting sponges chewed on, etc. He loves to chew. He also loves attention, even if you're not sure what he wants. I'll throw the tennis ball for him until he's tired of it and flops down on the ground, but if I turn to go inside, he's up and running towards me, sounding like a little pony.
He's been very draining.
Greg
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