everyday playday

I love playing with feathers, especially the tail feathers from the ring-necked pheasant. One of my people brings them to me after he hunts them.

I find them so tempting. Sometimes I carry one around in my mouth around the house, like a lion on the African savannah.

Where did it go? It must be under the pillow.

There it is, on the side table . . . . ATTACK!

My people have finally figured out that my favorite toys are not the ones bought at Petco. No, I prefer pheasant feathers, wadded- up tinfoil, toilet paper rolls, and plastic caps from hair products.

Action shot of me watching the toilet paper roll that my person just tossed at me.

ATTACK!

I like it when my people play rough with me. They will grab my face or my brisket. Sometimes they grab my belly and then wipe the tile floor with me as if I am a mop.

I chew and kick, but never hard. It's just play.

Eventually we've both had enough of the rough stuff and my person will scratch and rub my belly and chest just the way I like it. When I like it, my tongue comes out and 'licks the air'. Oh yah, that is just the right spot.