He didn’t agree with his kitten food and farted so much he made the kid’s room unlivable.
He had no respect for his elders and drove Sam, the senior cat, from his favorite places.
At 6 months old, he challenged the 60-pound lab mix for her food. He did not win. He did not stop trying.
Nothing in the house was safe from the little boy. Would he use the litter boxes in the laundry room? No, he preferred the newspaper recycling in the hall closet.
Would he sleep with you at night? No. No legs and feet were safe from his friendly predation.
Food was the final frontier. One Sunday, I tussled with him over my eggs. When it was time to take my morning medication, everything was gone.
I found two vitamin D soft gels on the floor, rejected.
I saw the dog swallow the probiotic before I could get out the words “drop it.”
The antidepressant? Nowhere in sight. Neither was Jackson.