Thursday, April 16, 2009
little buddy - you always stand just outside the kitchen with your muzzle pressed up against the bars of the baby gate i use to keep you away from the burning stove. the bars cover your eyes, i can't see anything but your nose and the giant skull looming behind it. you sit there impatiently, somehow still staring intently even with your vision barred. bear sits behind you and groans, her suffering so audibly intense. you butt slips away on the wood floors, so you constantly shift to keep as close as possible to the delicious smells.
you are still skinny, but you shit better than ever, hooray for low-residue iams. it stinks of fish, and it makes you fart, but it's an improvement.
you're still urchiny, but so much better than when you first got to us, i hope it doesn't worry people that your bones stick out and the scabs on your ankles and elbows aren't totally gone. at least running around in the sand and pebbles of the park have scrapped off most of that nasty fungus growing on your claws. haha, did i mention you still look like a refugee? i guess you still are..
i love taking you to the dog run and watching you play with the small sweet dogs, or run full speed to chase me. at night, when you gaze up in the branches looking for rodents or stars or something i almost feel you're mine. but - you soak up love and affection w/o prejudice. you love everyone, you love anyone. so it's up to a family to decide you'll be theirs forever; you'll be a sweet boy wherever you go, someone just has to claim you once and for all. in a few days we'll see if the first family in line to meet you is going to be the one you finally go home to...