When our gerbils peek out of their cage, we lean down, purse our lips, and gently blow in their faces. They scrunch up their eyes and move back and forth, leaning into the “wind” like they’re in the middle of a sandstorm or something. Afterwards, they always blink and look confused for a second, and then go hide in a corner and furiously wash their faces with their paws. Very cute.
I also enjoy sneaking up on dogs and poking them on the tail or the hip. They always whirl around confused and bark. It’s like that lame trick of walking up next to someone and poking them in the opposite shoulder–but it works. Sometimes, after I do it a few times, the smart ones realize it’s me and give me this disgusted look before walking away. I love it.
I do the paw tickle thing with the beagle. My dad used to come home in the spring and knock on the screen door. Mom’s mutt would run across the den carpet, onto the kitchen linoleum, hit the entry rug, :WHAM: into the screen door. Dumb dog did it 5 days in a row.
When my dear, sweet, departed Tessie was a puppy, when I was scrubbing the vinyl floor, one of my sons would take her into the living room while the other would stay in the family room (there are two-rooms worth of vinyl flooring between the two rooms). When I was done scrubbing, but while the floor was still wet, the son in the family room would call her. She’d go flying into the dining room, immediately losing her footing and sliding a good several feet. She finally learned, but we had a few laughs up until then.
every Halloween I take a thin black Army tube sock and make half of it into a mask for the cute little white dog. I cut out the nose and mouth together and also the eyes and the ears and put it on the dog and then use the other half to make a cape. Then while the CLWD tries to get it off, I sing the “Crime Fightin’ Dog” song, which consists of only the chorus: “Crime Fightin’ Dog. . . Crime Fightin’ Dog. . . (repeat as many times as needed)”
(This one isn’t really me annoying an animal on purpose) When I was in the middle of taking out the front porch on my house and building a wrap-around porch on the front and side of the house, the CLWD decided it needed to run out the front door at a high rate of speed and run down the steps to the front yard. But there weren’t any more steps. I had taken them out. She fell about three feet into the yard. I wish I had been in position to see her face.
