|Rudy Kazootie considering his options.|
Puppy does now have a name: Rudy. Actually, it should be Rootie, because he's named after the children's book character Rootie Kazootie. I just can't call a dog Rootie. Just seems like bad karma. We experimented for several days, or rather I experimented for several days with many names. Too long, I guess. I landed on Rudy when Gary repeatedly threatened to christen him Tator. Actually, Tator is a cute name, but like Rootie, I just couldn't see introducing people to my grown dog, Tater.
This is, of course, Rudy's first Christmas. Like all puppies, his life is filled with "no - no" and "NO!" with some extra expletives thrown in once in awhile. Like when the glass garland on the Christmas tree caught his eye. In a split second he was on it like a duck on a june bug and began backing off from the tree, garland firmly in his mouth. Luckily he already knew "NO!"
Rudy got his first snow storm a couple of days ago. Only about 2" but the drifts made up for it. He's spent the last two days locating drifts and either pouncing into them or plunging his head into them. Tucker and Lucy watched with jaded, aged eyes. They enjoy it, but seem to shrug off his excitement. Jeffie watches with wonder. He dances and prances and I can't help but feel he's wishing the drifts were big enough to plunge his 100 pound body into.
|Ready for a nap.|