We have another temporary rescue dog. Turbo is going to be a prison dog -- that is, he is joining
a mutually benefitial program where prisoners train dogs after which the dogs are placed with new
families. He spent the past month in a pen at the dog pound. (His tail reminds me of a fox.)
Gail brought Turbo home on Wednesday, a day after he was fixed. We
will keep him until Monday when he reports for training at the prison.
He's taking a nap on Gail's lap the day she brought him home.
Losing his manhood two days ago doesn't seem to bother him.
I put him in his crate, but he learned to somehow open the
door and get out when he wants. I'm not much of a crate-
lover, either, so I took him to Cold Beer and Cheeseburgers
to celebrate his great escape.
And, when he got out of his crate the second time, I took him
to Cadillac Jack's.
I guess it's pointless to put him back in the crate, I think
he's saying, "How about if I just sleep here in Echo's bed?"
But, instead, he decided to sleep on the floor beneath me
while I worked on the computer. His foot is resting on my
white-socked foot. I think he likes me.
Going to jail? Who's idea was that?