Like most of us, Rod loves the sound of a good paper tear. His favorite part of any shopping trip is when I come home and give him the receipt or paper bag to rip to shreds. He gets really into it and I am pretty sure he is imagining something other than paper being ripped apart.
When the paper has been properly killed, he lays down and lets the shreds envelope his body.
Once we reach this stage, I like to try to pick up the pieces, however I learned early this is not part of Rod's basking plan.
He goes from laying blissfully...
...to claiming his pieces. Apparently, I have not received the necessary clearance to touch the bag pieces.
This look clearly says, "don't touch my stuff, lady."
Cleaning time has been post-poned.