He is wrangled in his cage for the night. The act of getting him in the damn thing was made as pleasant an experience as I could make it because he’s supposed to love the cage. It’s supposed to be his secret happy place. If you could hear him now you’d think his secret happy place was walled with spikes and was on fire and was electrified and he was very, very, very lonely.
I wonder if I will ever get used to the dog. I can breathe, so that’s good, but I am itchy all the time and I don’t like being licked. I do like having him around more than I expected which is interesting.