I was mortified. I jumped up, apologized and tried to clean up the mess while Scott dealt with Montana. Everyone else shrugged it off and continued eating. Apparently Montana's misdeeds no longer faze them. After all, this is the same dog who once very graphically displayed his dismay at what he must have perceived as the uneven distribution of Milk Bones by sneaking down to my parents' basement and raiding the litter box. We were unsuspectingly eating dinner when Montana returned to the dining room and proudly spat a cat turd on the carpet.
While I don't argue with Scott's assertion that he has the same abundance of attitude as Montana, I do thank my lucky stars that he doesn't express that attitude in the same way.