Fergus: The Artist?

Fergus is totally a puppy.  You can't walk without having a little head attached to your shoe.  He is always ON. Full speed. 100 miles an hour. OR he is off. You know, in a puppy coma.  Every day when he wakes up he is SO happy!  Every day is the BEST DAY OF HIS WHOLE LIFE!  Every food is the best food he has ever tasted, even if it is just dirt.  You have to admire that puppy attitude.  If we could ALL be that happy, think how awesome our world would be.

And puppies are not scared to try new things, either.
Fergus is willing to do anything. 
Make a break for the street?  Sure!
Climb in the tub to try and get the water off your feet after your shower?  Sounds like fun! 
Attack that plant in the flower bed?  Awesome!
Bark at the strange puppy in the mirror?
Arf!!  Arf!! Arf!! Arf!!
Jump from the couch to the coffee table?  Yeesssss... Ouch.
Try jumping from the couch to the coffee table again?  Okaaayyy...  Ouch! 
Try jumping from the couch to the coffee table again? 
No, Fergus!

So when I noticed his recent interest in the arts, I tried to encourage it, while also keeping a close eye on him.  One man's paintbrush is another dog's snack.

He helped Jessa work on her poster for Student Council:

And he is totally willing to try any medium. 
Pencil on the poster board, of course.

Markers are always a fun choice.

 

Or colored pencils:

He seems to like yellow.  Bright and sunny, like his personality.

 And then there are crayons, these are his favorite...

Y'all, I couldn't figure out where he was getting these tools for his "artwork."  I would come home and there were crayons bits of crayon all over the place. 

He is carefully choosing his color.  Is it pink enough?  Too pink?  Is it Blush or Bashful?

So one evening, I found him chewing on a crayon.  I know I should encourage him and nurture his gift, but I hate when he devours his tools, so I took the crayon and threw it away. 

He was not the least bit upset.  So when he walked away, I followed him and discovered his "stash."  A cup of writing and coloring utensils from Spencer's desk had fallen.  They were spilled everywhere on the floor under his desk, but the chair was pushed in!  I couldn't even see the tools, but Fergus could.  I would take one away, and he would simply go back to his hidden treasure and choose another color.  I have now moved the utensils.  I am trying to control how much of his time he spends creating.  I want a well-rounded puppy, after all.

Now, when he got out the paintbrush, I had to draw the line at fetching him some paint.

This is not staged.  I promise!

Before I close, may I take this opportunity to give a shout out to Crayola for keeping it real, keeping it colorful, and most importantly, keeping it non-toxic.