It really does happen!

For all of you who thought using "the dog ate my homework" as an excuse was too cliché, rest assured - it does happen!

Found this little gem this morning when I was just about to hop on the treadmill. I heard a very distinct crunching noise coming from the living room and, alas! There it was! My dog, trying to eat my homework!

If I would have thought of it in the moment, I could have snapped a photo of the little guy at work, but let's face it - 6 a.m. comes awfully early for just about all of us, right?

Good job, Lambeau. In my state of half-awakeness, I failed to document you in the act. So for now, I suppose it's my word against yours. 

Good thing I'm the one that makes the rules around here.

Puppy Mom, extraordinare.

Growlgrowlsnarlgrowlbarkbarkhowl. 

Ah, the pleasures of having two dogs in the house. 

Now don't get me wrong, I love them both. Cooper - as you know - might be the best dog on the planet. Or at least, we're beginning to realize that now that we have Lambeau around. 

Lambeau. He's cute, he's snuggable (yes, that's a word because I said it is) and he keeps Cooper entertained 90% of the time. But he's a puppy. 

And he pees. A LOT. 

I barely remember the puppy phase with Cooper. I'm sure he was just as rotten and adorable and obnoxious, but I barely remember it. I know he chewed on a few things, broke a few things and made a few unmentionable messes around the house.

But Lambeau has perfected the get-in-trouble-but-be-so-cute-they-can't-stay-mad act. He just wags his little tail (or, if he's really excited, his whole back half) and you can't help but forgive the little guy. 

Oh yeah - and he's a hound. So he has those hound dog eyes. Those sad, mournful, why-are-you-mad-at-me-mommy eyes. So you can't be. You just can't. 

No seriously. You CAN'T. 

Love you too, buddy.