The only time he's actually tackled the flight of stairs was when I was picking the cat up on the 3rd floor, and she started voicing her displeasure. Wrigley heard that, his ears perked up, and zoom, up the stairs he came! Getting him down was another story, because underneath it all, he's a big chicken. I fear it's going to take a lot of time and patience and treats to overcome his stair-hesitancy; I just hope we can overcome that before my dad and step mom come visit.
He's pretty well behaved, over all, and I found out that he does actually know how to bark. He's not really sure what the TV is, and he doesn't like strange people in his house on a strange contraption he doesn't understand. That's actually not true -- it's more like he doesn't like to come in from outside with CSI's Grissom's head paused on the TiVo.
The cat is finally hanging out on the couch again, like she usually does, which is a good sign. She's still not thrilled about the dog, understandably, but we haven't had a major confrontation yet. I'm a bit nervous about the interaction, especially when I watch Wrigley go at his denta-bone or squeaker toy with a vengeance.