Doggerson

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.