Like waving a red flag at a bull.

Some days I have an early class and I'm usually rushing out of the house. In recent times, I've made a practice of making up my bed, but this is unlikely to occur on early class days. Today I got back from my morning class and the pups had been out, and I was doing small chores around the place. A load of towels is washing, and the day is sunny and bright-- I should be able to line-dry at least two or three loads of laundry. On one errand into the bedroom, I stopped to make the bed.

I peeled back the covers, and took the still-crisp flat sheet at the foot of the bed, and snapped it into the air, making its little cotton-lightning sound as it flapped about 5' in the air. Before the sheet could gently settle onto the bed, in came a little ginger FurTube™ to muss the proceedings. Indeed, Mochi finds the sound of bed-making nigh irresistible. She flounced under the sheet, making a messy little lump, quickly followed by a tentative rodeo bronc buck or two. As she expected and hoped, I snapped the sheet up again, and she commenced the awfulest bunch of flouncing you ever saw, all floppy ears and tail in a circle, awaiting the inevitable descent of the sheet. At these moments, she is all puppy, all exuberance. For this, and so many other reasons, my dogs remind me there is joy to be found in every day.