Feeling: excited
Listening to: Voi che sapete, from Marriage of Figaro
Reading/Watching: Driving Lessons, which makes me want to do inappropriate things to Rupert Grint

Allegra doesn't make much of a secret of how she's feeling. If she's happy, she literally leaps in the air. She prances. Her tail swishes so fast, I could hold her over the coffee table and dust it.

Enter the new puppy, Andante (I was so caught up in the cuteness of naming him after a musical tempo that I didn't think of how annoying it would be to constantly remind the vet that it's pronounced "Ahn-DAHN-tay"). He's half labrador, half pit bull. He has one of those skinny rope-tails, which is usually kept down, unless he's really riled, in which case it swishes lazily from side to side. He loves to run, but can't jump to save his life (I think it's those thick tree trunks he uses as legs). I thought maybe he was the most mellow puppy in the universe, except when he's wrestling with Allegra and turns into a "vicious beast."

Then, we discovered that even though he's learned about outward calm, and sits so perfectly still while waiting for food or a walk or a toy, his forelegs shiver like dry leaves in the wind. He's trying so hard to be still, trying so hard not to jump on me, but his legs just can't hide his excitement.

He should never play poker. Now that I know to watch his knees, it's a dead giveaway. And I love him for it, because he's so much like me. We've both learned to hide what we're really after, until it's right in front of us, and then it takes all the concentration in the world not to go berzerk and leap around the room.

Here's hoping no one notices my knees shaking.

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