Harvey Can't Duck the Duct Tape
Harvey continues to entertain us. We're remodeling our master bathroom and he believes he absolutely has to explore every time the door opens. It's a construction nightmare right now, not at all suitable for a Savannah, much less a huge, clumsy, uncoordinated giant baby like Harvey.
Since I'm not feeling well and not as fast as usual (and everyone who knows me is laughing at this point, for even considering a "fast" reference!), but Harvey managed to get past me this morning and made a dash for the far reaches of the master bath.
Since he was just neutered last Thursday, I couldn't just grab him and haul him back to safety. He's recovering. Delicate. Sore.
So... I lunged after him, almost had him until he crouched down so far he looked like a tricked out low rider. And with that last shrinkage, he managed to avoid my grasp and made the right turn that would take him straight into the heart of the tools and trash.
Jason was right behind me, yelling to, "Grab him!" and trying to help me. But he's a tall man and had no chance of following Harvey anywhere without getting stuck himself.
Harvey knew he was safe at that point and decided to stop and explore and give us accusing looks for not having allowed him in before today.
We were worried about screwdrivers and trowels and scrapers and nails and saws and drill bits and... everything.
The last thing we even considered was the duct tape. We don't know why there was a length of duct tape unrolled. At least neither of us will admit to it if we do.
But Harvey was attracted to the smell of the adhesive. First he snuck up on it, then he reached out and did the air-touch gesture, then he tried a serval slap, connecting to nothing.
All the while, I'm trying to move anything I can to get to him.
And then it happened. Our clumsy huge baby actually managed to hit what he aimed for. And a horrible chaos ensued.
The duct tape stuck to Harvey's right front paw. He panicked. I panicked. He jumped straight up in the air like an unbroken bronco. I yelled for Jason. Jason yelled at me. Harvey morphed into a rodeo steer, jumping, twisting, turning, bucking. To no avail. The tape was stuck not only to his pad, but to his lower leg from all the contortions.
Then he decided to run away from the tape. But it kept chasing him. And there was nowhere to go, the master bath was a maze of tools and cabinets and everything you need to remodel from a stripped out shell.
He made it to the small ornate iron side table we had removed from our bedroom and stashed in the master bath to keep him from hurting himself on the railings. He landed on the lower shelf, balanced between and on the rails, still waving his right front paw wildly, trying to fling the duct tape as far as possible.
We couldn't move the table and risk him catching his foot in the openings and breaking a leg.
Finally, after what seemed like 10 minutes, but was probably only thirty seconds, he wove his way to the freedom of our bedroom, tape even more firmly attached from the fight.
We managed to corner and calm him... and Jason would not rip the tape off Harvey's paw. He didn't want to hurt him. Seeing no other choice, I grabbed an edge and pulled fast and hard and Harvey lost some fur, a lot of dignity, but was finally free.
He's a very good boy, which is a very good thing.
Because then we had to clean off the tape residue and inspect him for any injuries. He laid on his back in my arms while Jason cleaned his paw, trimmed some fur to get the worst of the tape out, and felt all over for any breaks. Harvey purred and chirped to me the entire time. Just give him attention and he'll do anything for me. Jason says it's sickening. I love it, of course.
Harvey is fine. No injuries, fur will grow back, he hasn't been near the door to the master bath and we don't expect he will. But we forget he's a baby because he's so big. So we may do this again tomorrow. Short attention span. What?
But I hope we don't do this again. Today is special, a one-time event. Do you think Harvey knows it's my birthday? After that adventure, I certainly feel my (advanced, especially compared to Jason!) age.
Since I'm not feeling well and not as fast as usual (and everyone who knows me is laughing at this point, for even considering a "fast" reference!), but Harvey managed to get past me this morning and made a dash for the far reaches of the master bath.
Since he was just neutered last Thursday, I couldn't just grab him and haul him back to safety. He's recovering. Delicate. Sore.
So... I lunged after him, almost had him until he crouched down so far he looked like a tricked out low rider. And with that last shrinkage, he managed to avoid my grasp and made the right turn that would take him straight into the heart of the tools and trash.
Jason was right behind me, yelling to, "Grab him!" and trying to help me. But he's a tall man and had no chance of following Harvey anywhere without getting stuck himself.
Harvey knew he was safe at that point and decided to stop and explore and give us accusing looks for not having allowed him in before today.
We were worried about screwdrivers and trowels and scrapers and nails and saws and drill bits and... everything.
The last thing we even considered was the duct tape. We don't know why there was a length of duct tape unrolled. At least neither of us will admit to it if we do.
But Harvey was attracted to the smell of the adhesive. First he snuck up on it, then he reached out and did the air-touch gesture, then he tried a serval slap, connecting to nothing.
All the while, I'm trying to move anything I can to get to him.
And then it happened. Our clumsy huge baby actually managed to hit what he aimed for. And a horrible chaos ensued.
The duct tape stuck to Harvey's right front paw. He panicked. I panicked. He jumped straight up in the air like an unbroken bronco. I yelled for Jason. Jason yelled at me. Harvey morphed into a rodeo steer, jumping, twisting, turning, bucking. To no avail. The tape was stuck not only to his pad, but to his lower leg from all the contortions.
Then he decided to run away from the tape. But it kept chasing him. And there was nowhere to go, the master bath was a maze of tools and cabinets and everything you need to remodel from a stripped out shell.
He made it to the small ornate iron side table we had removed from our bedroom and stashed in the master bath to keep him from hurting himself on the railings. He landed on the lower shelf, balanced between and on the rails, still waving his right front paw wildly, trying to fling the duct tape as far as possible.
We couldn't move the table and risk him catching his foot in the openings and breaking a leg.
Finally, after what seemed like 10 minutes, but was probably only thirty seconds, he wove his way to the freedom of our bedroom, tape even more firmly attached from the fight.
We managed to corner and calm him... and Jason would not rip the tape off Harvey's paw. He didn't want to hurt him. Seeing no other choice, I grabbed an edge and pulled fast and hard and Harvey lost some fur, a lot of dignity, but was finally free.
He's a very good boy, which is a very good thing.
Because then we had to clean off the tape residue and inspect him for any injuries. He laid on his back in my arms while Jason cleaned his paw, trimmed some fur to get the worst of the tape out, and felt all over for any breaks. Harvey purred and chirped to me the entire time. Just give him attention and he'll do anything for me. Jason says it's sickening. I love it, of course.
Harvey is fine. No injuries, fur will grow back, he hasn't been near the door to the master bath and we don't expect he will. But we forget he's a baby because he's so big. So we may do this again tomorrow. Short attention span. What?
But I hope we don't do this again. Today is special, a one-time event. Do you think Harvey knows it's my birthday? After that adventure, I certainly feel my (advanced, especially compared to Jason!) age.
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