A little while ago I wrote about giving Harley the Most Scritches Ever while Bruce was out of town. Unfortunately, one night we ran into a snag. There I was, my back to the TV, giving Harley the Most Scritches Ever while he was sitting on the back of the couch, when suddenly, Everything Went Wrong. The tip of Harley's upper beak was just a little stuck in my thumb, there was a little bit of blood, and we were both in a bit of shock. Once we extricated ourselves, I cleaned up what turned out to be a small puncture wound, gave Harley a drink of juice to clear the taste of blood out of his mouth, and took a deep breath.

Obviously, I had done something wrong, but I didn't know exactly what. I couldn't fix it, all I could do was try to pay more attention next time. Which I tried to do just a few minutes later. But suddenly, Everything Went Wrong again.

Not such a big bite this time, no more blood, just lots of confusion on both sides. As far as I could tell, I was giving him scritches in the proper way, but something kept going wrong. After the third bite — and don't you think I was brave to keep trying? — I decided it was time to stop.

My best guess is that he had a new pin feather somewhere on his head, and when I inadvertently scritched that sensitive spot, it hurt him. Poor fellow. The thing is, we've both been a little wary of scritches since then. Bruce came home the night of the Bloody Event, so Harley and I had a few days' break before we tried again, but even so, despite good intentions, we've been a bit too skittish to let me really start digging in again. We have plenty of time to figure it out, but still, it's a disappointment.

The other day, after taking a pen out of Harley's mouth a few too many times in a row (there's INK in there, buddy!), I got the idea to give him a toothbrush, clean and fresh from the dentist's office. Instant success! So many textures, so squishy to chew, and those bristles! you can preen them! Plus, it makes a very satisfying "thonk" sound when you fling it against someone's collar bone. It's one of those toys we'll have to keep an eye on, though, since it looks like Harley might be capable of breaking some of the softer plastic into bits.

Then one day, Bruce and Harley enjoyed a bit of magical communication, and we learned what a tooth brush is really good for: SCRITCHES! Wonderful scritches! Lovely, lovely scritches! (Although the photo is pretty bad.)

Since then, every night, Bruce and/or I spend(s) the evening brushing Harley's head, neck, cheeks, and even under his "chin." Although you can't really watch TV while you're giving Harley Brush Ruffles, since it's a very delicate procedure, you can hear it, and since he perches on his table, I'm more comfortable than I was when he sat on the back of the couch. I still hope to get back to Six Finger Skull Massages one day, but for now, this is pretty good.