I'm So Proud

First of all, Murray has started showing an interest in reading, which we are very excited about. He seems particularly enthusiastic about books that help him learn how to not cook, but I suppose he takes after his father in that way, so that makes it cute, rather than disappointing. Too many cooks do spoil the broth, after all. And Murray just isn't so good with a knife or a whisk (but please don't tell him I told you that).

Also, remember how he used to not like food? Well, we've had a delightful 180 degree shift, and now Murray has graduated from no-food-ever-because-I-hate-food to yes-I-will-eat-anything-and-beg-endlessly-for-it to I-will-lay-down-under-the-table-while-you're-eating-and-look-obscenely-cute. It's a miracle. And it's not ever been two months! We are so proud. I mean, goodness, I have always dreamed of having a dog who would lay down under my tables. So that's Murray. Keeper of table-forts, patient-waiter, listener of fork and plate and glass clanging, dinner time foot warmer, and master of all cute things. He has even taken to laying down under tables when no one is even eating at the table. And Auntie Colleen came over today and he rested his wet nose on her foot while we ate pretzels at the table. He's so good, this dog. Patience-requiring for everyone involved, yes. Trying, language-less, to help us understand his issues and his sordid past, yes. A little confused about how to gather and nurture his flock without being a total pain in the ass, yes. But a really, really, really good dog.

The most important thing to know about Murray is that he really likes cream cheese the best. And pig ears. And string cheese, and lamb snacks, and peanut butter, of course. And do not even try to give him a vegetable. Ever. (Although I am determined to make this shift. This dog WILL eat vegetables one day. And he will like it.) Sometimes I like to add vegetable pieces to his food bowl, which results in him extracting the vegetable bits, setting them down on the rug next to his bowl, licking them completely clean, and then pushing him aside with his nose into a pile. I can't be too mad, though. One, it's actually sort of cute. Two, remember my onion issue? This pickiness seems to run in the family, right? Ah, now this is something I can understand. This is my kind of dog-language. This, you see, is my kind of dog.