They couldn’t even take my picture sitting up because all I want to do is be held and as soon as you put me down I try to walk toward you and then I fall off the bad bad stump and that’s so mean to babies.
If you walk by the box where I live with an obscene number of siblings and brother-uncles, the others will be happy to see you, but I am the only one who will bark at you until you pick me up, and then stare adoringly at you because I am the baby.
My tail is the one that was born bent. People told me that it would straighten, and it did.
Unfortunately, it straightened the wrong way. It grew in a tiny loop. It looks like I am trying to sign my own name with the end of my tail.
But everyone knows that what I am actually saying is please let me be your baby.