Foster Dog reclining in mud under hedge. Lifts head on my approach. Once identity verified, she returns to snooze position. 96 degrees.
Foster Dog auditioning for lead in “Hound of the Baskervilles.” Likes pipe and funny hat. Finding British accent challenging.
Foster Dog fails to get part. Kept saying, “Alimentary, my dear Watson” instead of “Elementary, my dear Watson.” Always thinking of food.
Big storm last night. Leaves & debris litter back porch. Foster Dog’s artistic eye notices void. Administers final touches with mud today.
Ran into a pillar of community at post office. Had just seen his picture in the paper. He called me by name. Obviously a fan of Foster Dog.