He’s back. He didn’t go in his crate — 14 hours. He relieved himself outside the cargo office and jumped in the car. At first he seemed a little confused, probably jet lag. When we turned onto our street, he sat up and began looking out the window. We came in through the garage and he ran for the water bowl. I think he drank a gallon. He ran out the dog door and cruised the back yard, came in and cruised the house; rolled wildly on the carpet and in all the dog beds. Mine, mine, mine! I fixed dinner for Chase and Inca who stood by, looking perhaps a bit dismayed — he’s back? Then a trachea for dessert. Chase is home, the sparkle is there. I love my silly puppy.
A trachea snack — yummy!
My bed, my bed, my bed . . .