Guess what?

We adopted a dog.

His name is Scout.

Here he is at the shelter, looking a little wild-eyed and worried.

Here’s what I’ve found out about him so far:

1. He really likes tennis balls.

2. He also really likes sticks.

3. He follows his nose. This week he escaped thru a tiny space between the fence and the side of the cabin and returned home with the neighbors two large brown dogs on his heels.

4. He sits on the mums.

5. He  chases walnuts, which are falling everywhere these days.

He also has an affinity for eating bugs, sleeping in the cat bed, and going on long walks to visit the horse that lives down the street.

I don’t know what else to say about him: I still feel like we’re figuring each other out. I will say that I love him very much. I loved him the second I saw him at the shelter. I loved the tiny spots on his nose. I loved the wiggly happy dance he did as I walked up to greet him. I loved how at odds his goofy puppy spirit seemed with his soulful almond shaped eyes. How animals can be happy after suffering like they do, it amazes me. It’s wonderful. He came to us with fly bites on his ears and protruding ribs. He was shy and quiet at first. Now he hears the shotgun-like blast from the walnuts falling on the cabin roof and is unfazed. He dives into the creek like a labrador. He gallivants thru the fields. Chases ground hogs and rabbits and sometimes the cats.

He appears to care only for what is, and nothing for what was.