This nut came to me from Owensboro, passed over for adoption for over eight months. No one
wanted him; he acted surly and unapproachable in his cage at the shelter. After meeting my "freak" criteria, I agreed to take him. Now he's "mine", my buddy, despite the fact that I have plenty of friends already.
The "Karl Childers" of Save That Dog Sanctuary (from the film, "Sling Blade")
"Karl" dug holes to sleep in...Thomas J., too.
One of the perks of living here--iffin' you're a dog!-- is the carte blanche hole digging workshops.
Some dogs like to scoop out a "den" in the earth, and luxuriantly nestle into them, savoring the soil's embrace.
The heat, the smell--it's an olfactory/somnambulistic-embryonic experience.
Did Someone Say "Thomas J."?
He reminds me of a ferret with that pointy snout and weak chin...
...I love him regardless...and his little neuroses, too.
Thomas J. Speaks
Can you see it? Look at the curl of his mouth.
He makes this gargling sound, almost like a purr, when he wants my undivided.
That's Franklin at 12 o'clock, gathering scent for our files.
Daisy the Bloodhound is a blur in the right bottom pocket of this photograph.
Thomas J. was miffed that Daisy was trying to steal his moment with me.
I'm the only human that Thomas J. will physically interact with.
I've got video to prove it.
Thomas J. bobs for noodles
He is a cutie, albeit formerly feral.
He dunks his muzzle, ad infinitum, until he gets every
last remnant of my leftover noodle soup I'd poured into one of the
dog water bowls. Thomas J. is nothing if not determined.