As I write I am watching a combined 200 pounds of sleeping dog.  All is quiet in the Frickinheiney house.  Cheyenne and Moneypenny are sleeping on the floor and Angus is taking up half of the couch.  I wish my camera weren't broken.  I'd love to share a picture.

Angus is a lovely dog.  He is huge but sweet and gentle.  He does well on a leash, sits, lays, stays, takes treats pretty.  He has a few quirks though.  He has terrible separation/crate anxiety.  He freaks out every time I leave him -- particularly if I leave him in the crate, but considering a few of his other quirks, that's the way it has to be right now. 

He likes to stand on things -- things like end tables, dining room table (imagine walking into the room and seeing a giant pitt-mastiff standing on your dining room table!), coffee table, dining room chairs.  Last night Harry was too busy to come eat that brilliant dinner that I made for him with the rest of the family.  His plate was sitting at the table as I got up to put my empty plate in the sink.  I walked back by the table and Angus was sitting in my chair, across the table from the untouched plate of food, looking longingly, but not making a move towards it.  He was, however, making a wetspot on the seat cushion with his steady stream of drool.
 
His other quirk is, I suspect, the fault of his previous owner.  Angus is the most gentle dog I've ever seen, with one caveat -- he turns into an aggressive (playfully) MONSTER when he jumps on my bed.  He even bites!  (Or more correctly, he 'mouths' us with an appropriate amount of mouth-pressure -- he doesn't hurt us.)  But regardless of whether or not his mouthing hurts, I don't like it!  I'm a tad annoyed at the irresponsible poop that owned him before for allowing that sort of play! 

Today we go to the trainer at PetSmart for an evaluation and I will talk with her about these quirks and how to remedy them. 

Tonight for dinner we are having a chile rellenos casserole and then I am headed downtown for the Rivertown Showdown -- a weekly competition series for local songwriters.  Most of the contestants are uh....how do I put this nicely...washed up aging folkie wannabes who really need to hang on to their dayjobs for dear life and/or get dayjobs if they don't have them already.  But within this pile of severe mediocrity (is that an oxymoron? severe mediocrity?) one occasionally finds a rare gem.  Last week -- or was it week before last? -- there was a blues-guitar playing gospel singing lady who blew my mind.  Who knows what I will find tonight. 

I am brewing an article in my head about three artists who competed in the last series.  They didn't win, but they shoulda.  I will post it as it comes along.  You won't comment on it though.  You never do.  Ya big buncha poops!

Speaking of poops, I'm gonna go eat a yogurt.  That's all for now.