Even stray dogs.
There's this stray that we've met now and then when we're walking HRH. Thin mutt, still juvenile, with lovely clear golden-brown eyes. She has always wanted to play with him but like most strays, he never has play on his mind. He quickly marks and trots off on his own business. The first time they met though, he stood still and gazed at her. She was delighted but I kept her on a short leash because he had tufts of fur missing from his flank and I was leary of sarcoptic mange. After that first encounter, he never stopped long enough for me to go back upstairs and bring down some food and water.
Last night when I came home from work, I saw him rooting around the garbage dump. At least he was at one spot long enough. I thought of bringing him down some Eukanuba. But L grabbed the pizza box instead. So Stray Guy feasted on a good half of a 12-inch Meat Lovers and a container of water.
Think of it from HRH's point of view: Hooray, Mummy's finally home. I'm gonna attack her with kisses. Wait a minute, she's going out again. And taking Daddy with her. And he's taking the pizza with him. Hey! Pizza comes into this house. Pizza doesn't leave this house. What's going on here?
L is quite taken in by Stray Guy. He thinks if it comes back often enough to feed, it might start to trust us, and maybe, just maybe, we could see if it would take to four walls and a roof. And then HRH will surely have something more to say.
1 comment:
After "yellow dog" I suppose I should have expected something like this. We shall be following "stray dog" exploits closely (and Wolfie will be crossing his paws for all of you). M.
Post a Comment