[cheesy]

It's been a year now. B-dog is a part of the pack and a creature of habit. The back of the Jeep is his preferred conveyance. Mrs. C's Renegade is second, followed by the Chevy. He usually needs some help getting in that back seat. Riding in the backseat of the DeSoto usually means he's getting his own burger so he's an absolute gentleman when back there. He has also appointed himself the Protector of the DeSoto. Get too close to Dads' car and there will be a very deep growl from his throat as a warning. He has zero interest in the sidecar.

If I'm putting my boots on, he's in my face, "Can I go, huh huh, can I?" If I grab his lead, he goes nutso. If I give him a cookie, that means he can't go with. He pouts, but takes the cookie anyway.

He has taken to bringing his food bowl into the living room when it's empty. Just as a reminder. We take him to Sierra Trading every few weeks so he can pick out a new squeaky toy. The staff know him now and they all come by to pet him.

Right now, he's staring a hole through me, wanting me to get dressed and take him for his morning walk in the woods.