I tend to fall for the bigger guys, and as I’ve said, I love the shy ones. Add sort of a goofball element and it’s just all over for me. (I know, I might as well still be in high school.) The big goofy Shepherd mix in the back run proved a combo that sent me reeling.
He sees me admiring him and he rolls his ears bashfully into his paws, “aww… shucks” in the thought bubble above his head. Because he’s a stray and won’t be formally evaluated for another day or two (standard safety procedure for every dog), volunteers aren’t yet permitted inside his kennel. But I can pet him through the bars and toss treats to the back of the kennel in a little game I call Find It.
I say to myself that he might just be the sweetest dog in the entire shelter right now, and believe me, competition is fierce. I make moony eyes at him and he licks my fingers. When it’s time to go, I swear he smiles at me before getting to work on the Kong I leave him with. Not sure if he noticed I blushed.
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