About half of y’all said there were 10 pups and the other half said 11. We’ll find out for sure on Friday, when Mason and I are planning to visit Smith Street. So far, the weather has been mild, wet but not below freezing. Danita, the puppy saint, has already committed to taking five of the litter.
Read MoreCaptain Jack, our newest foster dog, is going to have problems at the Farnival unless he learns how to be nicer to our three black cats. For the first time EVER, I witnessed a dog clamping onto Boo, the most athletic, vicious member of our feline posse.
Read MoreI count ten, right?
Read MoreAn alarm jolted Mason and I awake at 3 this morning, pitch black sky, 24 degrees, no stars. While the coffee brewed, I swiped hunter’s earthy wipes over Mace’s clothes to disguise his scent so that he could sneak undetected behind the shed on Smith Street, shut the door, and trap Dawn inside. Yesterday, we had confirmed with neighbors that she was sleeping with the pups in the shed.
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