Oliver is a complete parasite. He wouldn't walk if he didn't have to, and he probably sleeps 20 hours a day, most of it on someone's lap. His most time-consuming activity is making my wife and I feel guilty we aren't catering to him more, and he's very good at it. I routinely catch myself holding a treat for him to chew, or giving him 10-minute belly rubs when he nudges his way into the office early, before my wife wakes up, just to say hello and get a short massage. If I lock the door, he scratches pitifully but persistently. If I pick him up after he slithers in and place him outside the door so he can crawl back in bed with Mommy, he rolls over onto his back and stares me down sleepily until I give him what he wants. I honestly think he gets some kind of sadistic pleasure out of watching us fight the urge to cater to him. It's maddening.
But at least once a day, he does such a joyfully spastic "haven't seen you in a while" licking, nipping and leaping assault on me, especially when I'm getting a massage from myh lovely wife (I think he hates other people and animals getting attention), that it reduces me to tears of laughter. He still hasn't figured out how to completely control these little freakouts, and as delightful as they are, they're pretty dangerous too (and messy - he really goes after noses with the tongue if you're not careful). He learned how to act from a cat and leads with both paws in all things, which can leave some ugly scratches on your face if you don't watch out.
We love him desperately, but I worry that he's going to blind a kid or something one day. Don't do it Ollie!
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