Jake has found a new home. I feel bad, because he is a good dog and I think he’ll make a really good pet. I’m simply unwilling to take the chance that he could do serious damage to one of the cats, and even before the incident with Spot, I wasn’t feeling a great amount of love for Jake. When you read that a dog’s life expectancy is 10 years and after spending a few days with the dog in question you think to yourself He’s a year old, which means he’ll live for another 9 years. That’s not so long. I can handle that… right?, that might be a sign that you’re not heading in the right direction. I’m not a dog person; I’m really not. It’s possible that the dog exists out there who will change that. But it’s not Jake. I understand that many of you will be disappointed, maybe angry at me, maybe in the mood to leave angry, hateful comments. It’s okay, I completely understand how you feel. But I won’t have Spot living in fear in his own home. I just won’t. And in his new home he’ll have two dogs to play with – two dogs that are big, like him – and his new daddy is an affirmed “dog person.” I think he’s better off.
At the groomer’s, bonding with a tomcat (who looks a lot like Sugarbutt from this angle).
Hanging out in the doorway between the computer room and dining room.
Tommy, not a fan.
Still, not so much a fan.
Moonman has seriously come out of his shell. When you go into the room, he comes right to you for a hug and pat.
“Yowza!”