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Hey, remember that dog I rescued from a street corner back in March?

Yeah. He still lives here. His name is Maxwell I guess.

he doesn't really like having his picture taken but that doesn't stop me from trying. )
The "new baby" excitement of an addition never really happened, since my acceptance of ownership was just a long slow process of giving up on finding him a home. But he's pretty much a world-class sweetheart so I'm happy to have him here. I'm not much of a dog person, honestly, but we're doing our best for each other. He likes it when I squeak that toy at him. He hasn't quite figured out how to squeak it for himself, though.

Um. He's not a genius.

But he's mine, and I love him.

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Yesterday you got the doggerson, but I know what you all are really hanging around here for.
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Well, three weeks on and the dog is still in my yard. No one came forward to claim him. I've started giving more credence to the idea that he was a street person's dog. He seems really uncomfortable inside the house, and a lot of normal dog activity has been lost on him. He knows absolutely no commands. I'm not sure if he's housebroken or not--he hasn't been inside long enough for me to find out (I haven't had him disease tested yet and don't want to expose my cats, but I did put him in the bathroom one day when it stormed outside). The good news is he's actually a pretty fast learner. He's not the dummy I thought he was. We've almost got "sit" down, and he has grasped the concept of fetch pretty well.

Right now my plan is to take him to the vet and then try to re-home him. I love the little guy but I don't think I have what it takes to be a doggy mommy (esp. since the respective doggy daddy is entirely unwilling, the deadbeat). I have one or two leads on people who might be interested, so we'll see if any of those options pan out.

In the last picture I posted he was exhausted and pathetic. Here are some pictures of a rested, well-fed and socialized doggerson:


Mar. 2nd, 2008 03:51 pm
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Well, instead of devoting the entire weekend to reading Sartre and Wollstonecraft and Coetzee the way I was supposed to, I spent three hours on Friday luring this guy into my yard:

He was so exhausted he could barely walk, and I had to get him across Cameron Road somehow without the aid of a crosswalk. So it was let's say a pretty exhausting afternoon. He was wearing a collar but he was scrawny and afraid of me and generally pretty pitiful. I lured him by dropping bits of kibble.

He slept for six hours Friday. He slunk around fearfully for a while, but every hour has brought improvement and now he's pretty sprightly (I haven't taken a new picture yet to show you how cute he is fully rested). I'm currently trying to find his owners--he wasn't wearing tags but tomorrow I'll check him for micro-chips. I don't want to commit to keeping him, but I have to admit I'm getting pretty attached. Hopefully we'll find his family so I can let him go.

He is not a smart dog. Not even a little bit. Hodge and I have alternated between calling him Boo Radly, Maxwell Smart, and Bartleby (he has a full accompaniment of "I would prefer not to's."). Mostly, though, we've just been calling him Doggerson.


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