every time i think that maybe he is just too wrecked and destroyed to function even reasonably well enough to even pretend he is even remotely functioning at all...tugs surprises even me.
getting up in the morning with tugs loose in the house is always a bit discouraging because at some point during the night he will have woken up with diarrhea, spread it everywhere, gotten lost between the bedroom and the hallway and wandered thru it aimlessly fifty million times before he re-connects with his surroundings again and trips over his very own bed to go back to sleep again.
the whole process repeats itself when i wake up and all the dogs start moving, cuz tugs starts moving again too. while i am in the bathroom, tugs is back up and at his paw painting. and he gets stuck when he hits a wall or a corner, not sure which way to go next...he is like bambi on ice except bambi on ice is way more graceful and coordinated than he.
so i step over his disgusting mess and go to rescue him from where ever he is currently stuck and as soon as my hands touch his sides...mr happy explodes at my feet. he gets so excited because i found him (not that he was really lost cuz he was still in the hallway, just too close to the wall) and bambi on ice becomes bambie on speed and on ice and he is just too freaking funny.
i pick him and stick him somewhere safe and open with really good grip like on a giant blanket on the floor of my room so he can finish his happy dance while i clean up the mess that he made.
i swear to god he would even get stuck in a gynormous and empty cardboard box...and he would still make that terrible mess...but geez you just gotta love mr. heart tug-alots....mostly because he is so utterly clueless, he doesn't even know he shouldn't be so freaking happy.