Conversational Tactics with Basset Hounds

We go through this over a dozen times a day, minimum.

Doodle: Mommy! Peoples is here!
Me: No, sweetie, no one is here.
Doodle: I hears them, Mommy! Peoples right here, right now.
Me: Go check it out, no one is here.
Doodle: (runs to front windows) They's hiding, Mommy, but I knows they here.
Me: (looks out the windows, myself) Sweetie, that's going on at the neighbor's house. Not ours.
Doodle: I check anyway (runs outside to jump on Basset Rock and howl a bit)
Me: *eye roll*
Doodle: (back inside) I scares them off for you, Mommy!

Roughly every fifteen minutes for the next three hours until the school bus lets the kids off.

Doodle: Peoples! There's peoples here!
Me: Probably not, kiddo.
Doodle: (running around barking) Peoples!
Me: No, sweetie. No peoples. Just a vehicle driving by.
Doodle: No peoples?
Me: No peoples, Doodle.
Doodle: But I need lurv from peoples, Mommy.
Me: I know, sweetie. The neighborhood kids will come by later.

An hour later.

Doodle: (runs to me) Peoples? I hear peoples.
Me: Yes, sweetie, sounds like kids coming up the driveway.
Doodle: Peoples, it's really peoples? Peoples!
Me: Go on outside and greet them, sweetie.
Doodle: (runs outside and jumps on Basset Rock to howl at them) I here, Peoples. I here!
Kids: (waving) Hiya, Doodle!

All this enthusiasm is absolutely exhausting, not to mention disruptive as all hell. But somehow, you just can't hold it against him.