New pup on the block
Today was my first visit to the “pound” as it was called when I was younger. A refuge, according to the sign on the door, where for a fee, one could adopt a new family member. Then, the trip out back, with stern warnings to wash (actually, spread a gelatinous cream) between touchy-feelie sessions. There they are; the orphans, all being as polite (and noisy) as possible, in hopes of getting a better accommodation and meal plan. The poor one that “hurls” when left outside. The one that tends to play beaver around a house. The one that looks ready to head on down the road at the first opportunity. The one that wants to play kissy with everyone (strange behaviour; guess mother didn’t discuss how to deal with strangers).
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