I AM A GOOD BOY! I AM A GOOD BOY!

You may remember from yesterday's post that Grandma and Grandpa were coming over for dinner and I promised not to jump on them. I tried really hard, and was afraid I might oops and do it anyway, but I was good. I was very good. And so was Smudgie! (That's Hudson's nickname. I don't know if I'm allowed to use it yet, but I'll give it a shot.)

When they first came we were both crazy. Mommy had to be a little bossy. She wouldn't let them even look at us. (I thought that was mean.) All the uprights moved into the kitchen and Daddy stayed with us, on our leashes, in the entrance way. He waited until we both calmed down, sat, and then laid down. Apparently this is what he learned from Cesar Milan. It was soooo hard. But when we were both settled he took off our leashes and we all walked, calmly, into the kitchen. Then we got to say a very calm hello.

And that was that.

We were both calm all evening. We got to lay on the floor by the dining room table while they ate (sharing was minimal, but fortunately Grandma drops stuff), and later we moved to the living room where we hung around while they played canasta. (The men won, and apparently Grandpa was a little smug about it, but it looked like everyone had a good time.) We didn't even jump on them when they were leaving. All in all, we were two very civilized dogs.

Grandma and Grandpa complimented us a lot. They were very impressed. Grandpa really liked me. He smiled a lot, and petted me, and wouldn't tell me to get away when I tried to lick the ice cream cake (and other stuff) on the table. But Mommy and Daddy made sure that my table surfing fun did not continue for long.

So, I AM a very good boy. Grandpa said I had a wonderful personality, and they both really liked my stubby little tail, too. They made a few alligator jokes, but I think those were in good fun.

So, yay for me! And yay for Smudgie!

In other news:

Hudson seems to be doing really well. He hasn't pooped today, but yesterday's and the day before's were both really good (whatever that means). The chickenfarts have passed and the uprights aren't sure how much longer they need to officially worry. So far so good. Hudson's already trying to snarfle other stuff, so he's over it I'm sure.

Mommy's finished her stinky report cards, so we actually got to hang out this weekend. That was really nice, and she was much happier.

Daddy gave Mommy her birthday gift today (her birthday was last weekend). It's a lot of funny looking boxes and stuff. Apparently when all of it is hooked up it will be a stereo for her classic car, Sam. I haven't seen Sam. He's locked up in the garage and we've both been told he's a dog free zone. He's something called a 1974 Roadrunner. We'll see. Mommy wasn't too sure about the stereo until Daddy explained that when someone obnoxious pulls up beside her blasting rap music, she'll now be able to turn her stereo up to 3, and her music will completely overshadow his. Then they laughed and he said, "Yep. This cool dude with his bass set to blast and his gangsta rap will suddenly hear nothing but 'dancing queen...young and sweet...only seventeen....'" and Daddy did the Dancing Queen dance. I wish someone had taped it. It actually made Mommy burst out laughing. Now she really loves her scary stereo parts.

And finally...another first for me...

The uprights seem to feel it's important for me to pee and poo when I'm on a leash. I've been really good about going outside, and I always poo in Poo Corner, but apparently if I do it on the walk, Daddy bags it (there's this funny looking fire hydrant bling on my leash with little baggies in it), and then it gets thrown away. It cuts down on having to scoop the yard. I don't think it's that important, but since I'm riding the glory of being such a good dog yesterday I threw them a proverbial bone. I pooped on my walk.

There was much rejoicing.

Uprights really are strange and offputting.

Take care all,

Rudy (Official Good Boy)