The older dogs are not cooperating so it's all Fenway this week.

Fenway has a new hobby: carrying foodbowls around the house
Don't laugh, it lkeeps him out of gangs

Do not let this look of innocence fool you

Last night all three dogs went into a post-dinner happiness frenzy and began racing up and down the stairs barking and wrestling with each other and slamming into walls.

Satchmo can only keep it up for a short time before he comes into the room, knocks my legs out of the way and hides under my desk where Fenway and Beckham can't get at him. Then he starts barking like crazy (and Satchmo has a very deep and resonant bark that sounds like what James Earl Jones would sound like if he, you know, barked instead of saying "This is CNN"). I assume that what Satchmo is saying is the basset equivalent of "Sanc-tu-ary!".

It's really quite dramatic in a Victor Hugoesque kind of way...

Fenway is coming along nicely despite his belief that puppy pads are for shredding and paper towel rolls are bitchin' fun to run with until all of the towels unspool. Then he pees presumably under the assumption that there are perfectly good towels now just laying there that can be used to clean it up.

In his mind, I'm sure he thinks he's being helpful as he stands there wagging his tail believing that this is some kind of male bonding exercise.

It's not...