It all started when Queen Latifa (our dog Lucy) was greeted by Milo (our other dog). There was no way of knowing what would happen next. He (Milo) pranced, pawed and maneuvered in circles around her until she finally gave in. At this point, one of two events were bound to occur. Milo (nicknamed Smalls) was either going to violently injure the queen using his repetitive attempts to gain her attention or the task of aerobic exercise would last indefinitely.
Quite likely, as has been the case in the past, the latter is likely to occur. Sure enough, after a minute of relentless play-with-me, here-I-am, let's-do-trick's, I'm-your-new-friend attitude, Smalls finally gets the hint and lies down, momentarily. Until Bella (the I'm-Holier-Than-Thou cat) struts by, he suddenly becomes a slingshot being let loose.
Poor Bella, for there is nowhere in the house she can hide from these lunatics, except one place. She dives under the only safe place she knows- the couch. Like a lion vying for its prey, two small eyes appear from beneath the large structure. The taunting devil pokes a paw out in the daylight, risking her ambivalent thoughts towards Milo. "Maybe, just maybe," she thinks he will play a game of hide-and-seek or catch-me-if-you-can. However, Milo thinks partaking in such antics would definitely label his as the loser and instead decides to pick on one smaller than he is, as in the bunny.
After realizing the bunny is no match at all, he moved onto the rats. Being divided by such metal confines, Milo is only able to stare and sniff. He barks at his frustration as he just wants someone to play with. Fearing for their lives, the rats scurry to the far corner of the inside of their cage. Either Milo will cause the rats to have a heart attack or me to have an aneurism. I tell him to pick on someone his own size and realize Queen Latifah has already had her chance. Defeated by such deranged and crazed antics, Milo has nothing else to do but see if he can spark some interest in the fish.
Leaping on the couch, where he is now the same height with the fish tank, he looks in with sorrow. "At least these four fish can play together," he sighs. As depression, or hunger, undecidedly kicks in, he sticks his tongue out and licks the fish tank.
Thank God those fish were confined because there was no way of knowing what would have happened. Although, the horse would have been satisfied with his easy prey and delectable meal.
Who says to pick on someone your own size? At least if the catch is easy, there aren't any squabbling noise disturbances for the onlookers, the animal kingdom says, it's feast-or-famine!