My friend Anthony Connolly was kind enough to give me a leather bound field notes notebook to carry around with me (I recommend my writer friends pick up the habit, its useful) Anyway, I left the notebook on the coffee server by my chair in the family room.
Not only did Eli rip it up, after I found it and chastised him (At this point he apparently things yelling “Bad dog” is a fun thing) he leaped up on to his perch on the couch, stared at me and continued to eat my book.
