My excitement about the upholstery job is waning. Did I spell that correctly? You see, the foreman told me to call the owner today. Which I did. But the receptionist blocked my call, saying, "He just got into town this morning and he's got piles of resumes to go through, so try back in a few days."
How disappointing. If the guy was out of town he was probably counting on his foreman to weed through some applicants, so to not have my call put through when I was told specifically who to call and when is...a bummer.

In Elvis news - of which there is always plenty - Steve and I are going to board him while we go away for a long weekend with a couple of friends. We rented a house on a lake and can't trust the bugger not to wee all over the place. We also can't leave him in a crate every moment that we're not there, as he sleeps in a crate and added together he'd be in the crate waaaay too long. Steve and I had a real tough time with this decision, which I guess is proof that we're getting to love the guy. We hate that he'll think he's been abandoned again and scared. Oh, man, I'm probably typing myself right out of this. But I know that our friends want to go certain places and see certain things and if we brought him, we'd really be tied to the rental house.

So, yes, we're putting our own selfish needs in front of the dog's and he'll have to deal with it. Otherwise, quite frankly, it won't be much of a vacation.

And, oh, yes! He looks back at us now to see which way we're turning on our walks. This is a HUGE deal. HE ACKNOWLEDGES THAT WE EXIST! WOOHOO! He respects us as leaders of the walk.

I love his ears. He is a cute, cute boy.

The rats will stay here and look after the house.