Dozer

The household now includes Dozer, a six-month old terrier mix adopted from the Helen Woodward Animal Center, where we could have also picked up a cat or a horse or a sheep or some goats. But, no, just Dozer this time around. I think he's enough for now.

He really, really did not want to get in the car with me. Like, full stop, dig in, eyes of terror. But after a whole bunch of reassurance and cooing and cuddling, he went willingly into his carrier, and he was great the entire drive home.

He's been home for about an hour now. He's had a leak, stuck his nose into everything, drank some water, got freaked out by his rubber bone, bit my laptop, barked at something I couldn't see, and now he's having a bit of a nap. When he hears something weird, one ear perks up and the other one flops down. It's so cute it's cracking my molars.

At some point I expect him to hold still in adequate lighting and in such an orientation that I might be able to snap a good pic of him, but until then, expect more of this kind of thing.

From Dozer



From Dozer

From Dozer

From Dozer