Self Propulsion
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.