Pretty Boy Floyd Falls for Dawn

Floyd

It was the middle of the night. The bedroom fan rhythmically whirled. The window was open, and a soft breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckle blew through the screen. A warm front was moving in from the south. Wondering what had woken me up, I heard Floyd’s tail thumping against the hardwood floor. He sleeps next to the bed.

Paws pitter-pattered down the hallway and I assumed Floyd’s sister Sara was moving to her own sleeping space in the spare bedroom. Even though Floyd is currently the only male in a pack of seven dogs, he’s never cared about any other female except for his littermate and me. But as her clicking nails moved closer and Floyd’s tail whapped harder, I recognized the distinctive jingle of the tags on Dawn’s collar. Floyd was excited about seeing our foster dog Dawn.

Since that night, I’ve noticed them playing on several occasions. Once, I even walked by when Floyd was rolling on his back and jawing back and forth with her. Could our Pretty Boy Floyd finally be falling in love? It makes sense, doesn’t it? Dawn’s is beautiful, her coat as shiny as coal, plus she exudes the worldliness of street life.