Last weekend, I washed the random blankets that float around the living room, including Quinn’s favorite. He sat at the top of the stairs and whined until I finally gave in and followed him. I thought he was going to lead me to the back door to go out, but instead he went to the laundry room. He knew where his blanket was, and he wasn’t happy about it.
Once the blankets were washed and dried, he claimed them all before I could fold them: