Foster

Turns out we didn't get Foster.
We got Byron instead. He is old, very skinny, but quite dignified. He must be part great dane. Sara has been trying to place him for 3 months. She says she'll keep looking for a permenant home, but that she will take him back when we leave if she doesn't find him that forever place.
I've been stuffing him with that left over fish junk. He has a very gentle mouth. Very patient. He won't lie down on the velvet curtain, but rather lies on the cement patio or stoney driveway. He barked a deep, pleasant woof or 6 at something in the side yard, but stopped when told to. He didn't bark at the Jehovah's Witnesses who came calling. He pounced playfully at a crab hole in the grass near the pool. He wagged his loooong tail a little. He likes to have his head rubbed. His gaze is deep and sweet.
Sara is going to send us a photo of how he looked when she found him, bald, sunburned and wraithlike. He still has a couple of bare patches, but is covered mostly with pleasant brown fur with some white markings. His jut out at right angles from his head. He has not been fixeed and I wonder how many descendants he has produced. And if he'll try to produce more.