February 2, 2007
He travels across our feet. No real harm done though the dog fills with a barking rage. Scampers from room to room seemingly unstoppable. His fortress, his abode hidden behind walls. Dusty and bare. Vacant. Assumptions claim he comes alone. To trap him would be inhumane. Run free little one, run free. Just please refrain from chewing the wires. On occasion he gets loud, presumably gnawing out new doorways, creating new exit strategies. A quick jab at the wall quiets him. In the warmer weather he may leave, but the cool air always brings him back. For now he’s mine.