The continuing exploits of Mr. Finnegan as he conquers the world with his cuteness.

It is my firm commitment that I shall move my body forward under my own propulsive power and no longer rely on the kindness of others to carry me from one location to the next. In this endeavor I have embarked upon the journey that is called “crawling” and is on many lists that purport to describe what six month old babies are to be about. I have mastered the first phase of this “crawling” by lifting my hindmost quarters into the air, balancing my bulk on the four pillars of arms and legs outstretched. This much I can do.

Loaded and ready for bear

It is at this stage of the process where things go amiss. I have a great deal of forward propulsion provided by my muscular thighs, which I count among my many valuable assets, and this propulsive force sends my body forward in all good haste. Unfortunately I cannot seem to time this rear-based forward motion with the actions of my forward appendages. It seems most strange to me that I am expected to lift either of my hands at this stage, as surely I will fall if I do so, but just as surely I will fall if I do not! This puzzle confounds me every time.

And he's down

I will not give up on this seemingly hopeless project as I have so many plans for what shall be done once I am free of the shackles of my keepers. There are so many shiny, sharp, pointy, and delicate objects for me to grab, pull, squeeze, and put into my mouth! They beckon to me from every direction.

Even higher on my list of things to do once I am mobile will be to finally give the animals the attention they deserve. The dog and the cats are so fluffy and warm I feel that they are the most in need of some good squeezing, grabbing, pulling, and gnawing. I cannot wait to bring them the good news of my freedom, as I am sure they are as frustrated as I that I cannot now give them the hugs that they are needing.

Oh Yes?

I have been spending much of my free time, such as it is, perusing an excellent library of arctic fiction provided for my education and amusement by my parents. As you may observe in the photograph above, I enjoy the hands-on approach to my reading, grabbing the polar bear by the nose, so to speak, and tugging the story right off of the pages.

In my reading I have found stories that make one cry, and stories that make one laugh. I much prefer the latter.

That was a good one!

Here you can see me telling a rousing tale to my pet hedgehog, Spiny Norman, and then laughing heartily at his witty rejoinder. Such times we have. And then I find my toes, and all is lost for the next 15 minutes. And what toes are these?

What lovely toes!

It is so nice to be able to sit on ones own and enjoy a good book, toe, or hedgehog, is it not?

A gentleman should endeavor to cultivate a warm, hearty, and fulsome laugh that is pleasing to the ear, welcoming to the eye, and inviting to the onlooker giving them the irresistible desire to join in the merriment. A winning laugh should be both manly and childlike, filled with youthful abandon and yet fully under the control of its master. In many situations a good hearty laugh can do the work of a thousand witty and politic words, paving the way for friendships, alliances, and even matrimonial bonds. In short, it is a gentleman’s duty to bring forth this healthy outbursting of mirth as it is the duty of a fountain to bring forth the bubbling waters of the spring.

For your edification I have produced here a sampling of my own deep, hearty, and fully manful laugh. Listen and learn.

In order to develop this well formed laughter I employ the device of an amusing animal, in this case Maisy my dog, who does great frolic with an empty paper bag. What dolorous soul could not be soon amused by her frisky antics? And also, who is it who can resist the infection of my well-practiced laugh and thus begin the inescapable paroxysms of the hearty guffaw. I dare say that the answer is “none”.

It is official. I shall ring in the new year at a strapping weight of 19lbs 10 ounces. At just over 4 months old I feel that this is a most satisfying accomplishment.

Big Boy

I feel I should thank all of those who have contributed to my wholesome gerth. I suppose that really means thanking my mom, since she is almost solely responsible for helping me put on the pounds. Thanks mom!

Do you know the Boughtons? They are a most pleasant family who paid me a visit recently. I believe they must be farmers, as they gave me a small farm of my own to tend.

In this picture you can see me tending to my new farm, slopping the pigs, tending the chickens, etc.

Tending to the critters

The horse trough is excellent for chewing, although the horse did say that he would like to have it back in time for dinner.

The Boughtons are a delightful family. From what I was able to gather during their brief stay Orion is the mycologist (mushroom expert) and Devina is the baby dance instructor. I am not entirely certain of these facts, but all indications point to these conclusions. Orion took a long sojourn in our woods searching for the lost black mushroom told in myths and legend – which he found!

While he was out exploring, Devina gave me detailed instruction in dancing the ‘Jiggity Jig’, a very complex dance for babies. As per her instructions I practice my footwork every night as I lay in bed, a practice Mother has tried to discourage as she feels that it interferes with my rest. But orders are orders, and I am proud to tell that I have almost mastered the steps as taught to me by Devina.