I think we’ve already established that Jacques, while being incredibly sweet and wonderful, isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. He’s a few fries short of a happy meal, a few cards short of a deck, not the brightest bulb in the string… and so on. I was going to link to a previous post to prove my point but, really, you could read any of them and get what I’m saying. He’s more “special” than Rocky – and let me tell you, it takes A WHOLE LOTTA special to be more special than Rocky.
It took Jacques a while to figure out what was a toy and what wasn’t – and it wasn’t for lack of toys. My house often looks like a kindergarten playroom with balls and de-stuffed toys (which we call “babies”) strewn all over the place. After a few failed attempts, Jacques finally got the hang of the toy and toy box concept. I have tried to get him to understand the difference between “bring me the ball” and “bring me the baby.” When given one of those commands, he will do one of three things: pick up the toy closest to him, get Lamb Chop (because that is his favorite thing in the whole wide world), or stand and stare blankly at whoever gave the command. He usually does the latter. (Even Rocky – ROCKY – knew the difference between “ball” and “baby’!!) But what my little guy lacks in gray cells, he makes up for in gusto and cuteness. And I remind him often that it’s a good thing he’s cute.
And if you’re wondering… Yes, yes that is a bathmat. He dragged it all the way from the bathroom, down the hall, and into the office. I heard him grunting and heard something dragging but I was busy working. My curiosity (and doggie mom instinct) eventually got the best of me… I turned around and saw him sitting there with the bathmat. I was confused, then shocked, and then fell into a fit of hysterical laughter. It’s a similar story with the throw pillow. He dragged it from a chair across the house and into the office…