I was looking through old posts on the Sybil's Den Forums, found this one from back in April, and decided to share it here too.
This morning, I took Gizmo out of his nighttime crate as usual, and played with him on the floor for a bit. The second I went to get up, though, he quarry-pounced my lap then sprawled out, leaning his head into my hand ears-first for me to rub them.
I loved on him for a little longer, but when I stopped, he started to make this high-pitched whining sound. I ignored it and pushed him out of my lap--he responded by screaming as loud as he could, and leaping back into my lap. I pushed him out again, he screamed and pounced me again (every time leaning his ears into my hand for me to rub them).
Finally, I managed to get a hold of him and hold him off me so I could stand up. Once I was on my feet, he just flopped down on his side and made his little sobbing I'm-not-getting-my-way sounds. The translation was probably something like "Abuse! Neglect! She's leaving me here to die! That heartless monster won't even rub my ears! She's neglecting the fox! Someone call the ASPCA! She's neglecting the fox! She dumped me on the cold floor and I'm going to die here if nobody saves me!"
I reached down and hooked the leash onto his harness and went to lead him outside to his play yard. This ended up being something like trying to walk a bag of wet cement. He employed passive resistance, letting every muscle in his body go limp. When I continued to drag him, he then rolled over several times, getting himself all tangled up in the leash.
Well, needless to say, at that point I sat down to untangle him--and the second he was free, he pounced back into my lap and wanted his ears rubbed some more. Me standing up this time resulted in a kicking screaming go-for-broke tantrum. I just stood there and waited for him to wind down and quit, well, shrieking.
I'm starting to think that having a fox might be the Universe's way of preparing me for having a toddler later on in life.