Can’t keep me down for long. You can put up all the barricades you want, confine me, make me sit, demean me, belittle me, remind me that I’m small, but once I know how to get around I’m not going to be held back.
Cardboard barriers don’t work any more – I’m a big boy now, and I just plough through them. Set the lid of that box at the top of the stairs? I’ll just push it over. Put me on a chain? Well, actually that one still works quite well, but if I want to see the basement, by gosh and by golly, that’s what I’m going to do.
I like carpet. It feels better under my feet than the other stuff does. It tickles, and when I run on it I start laughing – a lot – so why on earth would I stay on the ceramic tile if so much carpet beckons?
I’m earning my freedom. I know I go a little bit nuts from time to time, but I’m okay with that. I mean, if I was always perfect, how on earth would they know when I’m being a good boy?