Close to Nowhere
We have another new member of our family. A small, very young very skinny bag of bones showed up at our house a week or so ago. He was so pitiful, big ole feet and big head and the rest skin and bones. It took grandson-in-law Mitch a few minutes to convince him that he wasn’t going to hurt him and a good size serving of dog food, and we had a new friend.
I really don’t know if you could call him pretty or not, he’s at that awkward stage, all feet with no idea of what to do with them. Did I mention he has really big feet?
I do like the way he looks He’s a really pale gray with a few splashes of white. He has a big square head and droopy ears. He has at least some pitbull or Staffordshire terrier in his bloodlines.
He’s so friendly and I can’t imagine why anyone would throw him out.
I think all of us have a different name for him. Mitch calls him Friend, Remy calls him Freddie and I have the best name for him, Gray Ghost, shortened to Ghost.
He snuck in my house one morning recently and my cat, who is a holy terror, didn’t even puff up his entire body and start hissing at him. My little bitty five pound dog, who has to defend me from all attackers (and every body is a potential attacker) walked in, stared at him a minute and announced he was a friend.
I’ll never understand how a human being can just toss a dog or cat out. Sometimes we need to find a home for them or take them to a no-kill shelter, and we need to volunteer to that shelter, or at the very least contribute a large bag of dog or cat food.
In addition to our new family, we have three outside dogs, one our air conditioner repairman gave us. She’s our oldest and bossiest, half black lab, half pitbull who went visiting where he wasn’t invited; a blue heeler, who is very sweet for a heeler of any kind and a mostly black lab, that was supposed to be an indoor dog but had way to much energy to be confined in a house. They all scare delivery folks, but all they really want is to be petted.
The delivery folks need to be more afraid of the chickens.