This is Fargo.
Fargo has something to say.
mmmmheeeellllOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*whirling*
*twirling*
*swirling*
*wagging that butt like a metronome on a sailing vessel*
i heard you heard i like elevators.
FALSE.
i like elevator.
singular.
the other one is terrifying.
yes yes my home has one good elevator and it has one bad elevator, and the bad one hasn’t been that bad lately but it did rumble at me a bunch over the months before it got fixed and it also took forever to open and i am sorry but i do not have time to wait on your dysfunction, rumbly elevator.
the good one, though.
oh boy is it good.
the thing about elevators, when you are a sixty-pound puppy capable of standing on your hind legs and peering deep into humans’ souls, is that they are a small, enclosed space. the people (your favorite animal in the world, tied with dogs) cannot leave. not even if they want to. instead, they have to pet you, and they have to hold your paws when you elevate to join them, and they have to return your eye contact and then accept your kisses on the face while saying “oh wow Fargo you are very nice” (they are correct i am a delight).
elevators are great fun.
of course, sometimes i am subdued. physically. the male puts me in a bear hug and holds me on the ground while i try to cure someone’s fear of dogs by pushing them into the wall of an elevator with the entire weight of my body behind my front paws.
but even then, i am receiving a hug.
and i sure do like hugs.
🥰