In reality only one of them is really annoying, and it's not really her fault. I have an innate disdain for the small fluffies, so her tiny puppy cuteness only dulls that slightly. She's a Yorkie, and for some reason her family bought her and then promptly went away for the long weekend, leaving the housesitter to deal with toilet training and everything.
It wouldn't be too bad, except that apparently for all they look like stuffed toys Yorkies are actual terriers. They do not give up ever. Yesterday I went home for Daniela's birthday and also because I had to watch Doctor Who (mainly Doctor Who :D) and I left puppy in her puppy pen, and when I got home she wasn't there. She'd phased out. She'd then managed to jump the big blocks blocking off the front hall, push aside the cardboard box blocking the stairs and climb all the way up, only to get trapped in the bathroom when the wind closed the door behind her. I freaked out a bit (she could've pooed anywhere D: She could've eaten anything D:) and took her back downstairs to see if she could get out of the pen again, which she promptly did. She just jumps and keeps jumping...it's like video game characters who double jump when you press X again when they're in the air.
I moved the blocks to make the box harder to move, and she jumped straight onto them and tried to jump over the box, which she fell into and then walked out of (it has a puppy sized hole in the side) to try again. She kept doing it for fifteen minutes before I locked her in the bathroom for the night.
FFFFFFFF STUPID OWNERS LEAVING ME WITH VERY DETERMINED TINY PUPPY D:<
But no one cares about tiny puppies, because it's BINT DAY, BINT DAY, GOTTA GET DOWN ON BINT DAY. The fourth annual binturong day to be precise...four years ago today I stumbled across Kris' excellent binturong analysis and it was scarily like me for a thing written without me in mind. I think I've grown into it over time...back then I was a bit more sensitive and self-conscious than binturongs generally are. I've still got my hang-ups (my god, I'm a mass of neuroses held together by really effective compensatory pathways), but for the most part I couldn't give a flying fish about what other people think about me. I've come out of my shell, as it were.
It's good. I like what I am and I'll be happy to keep going with that. There's not too much else to say about that really. I like being a bearcat.
As for celebrating binturong day, I'm sitting in my binturong hat having rewatched The Impossible Astronaut (D: :D :O D:), watched the Confidential to go along with it and having sung loudly along to Once More With Feeling, which was on TV (there's a Buffy-thon on foxtel this weekend, but most of my favourite episodes've been on really early in the morning. Once More With Feeling was on at a good time :B). My Ravenclaw scarf is nearing three feet (I started on Friday *pride*) and I'm listening to dorky music. Binturong day isn't really a Luth-related deal, which is good, because I don't really have an overly gushy-affectionate relationship with my daemon. I didn't know him for a couple of months after I found the form anyway. Binturong day is more about being a terrible dork, because that's what being a binturong is to me :B
Soooo, yeah. Four years a binturong :B