Gillian made me do it.

So - I’m pup sitting. This is Wagner, whose fame you have seen before.

He’s being very accommodating, curling up here with me on the futon when he’d rather be in bed, but he can sleep tomorrow while I’m at work. Lazy ass.

He’s at his cutest when he uncurls himself from sleep and his hair is sticking up all over and is slightly sweaty and disheveled. When it gets to be about 9pm, he unfurls himself from wherever he is tucked in and gets all grumpy as if to say, “why are you keeping me up?” and then if you don’t join him in retiring, he comes back and curls up beside you, but lets out little barks and growls every now and then to remind you that he’s only there begrudgingly.

I’ve been thinking a lot about getting a dog lately - the only thing that’s kept me from it is I worry about getting attached to a little fella and then finally (murphy’s law) finding that overseas job I’ve always wanted. I couldn’t do that to a little Wagner. But now that I have one of those jobs that, if you’re not careful, it can take over your life, I’ve thought of getting a dog as a way of ensuring that I come home at a reasonable hour, spend a reasonable amount of time outdoors, moving and enjoying myself.

We’ll see - I have Wagner until Sunday. If I feel the same way then that I do now (that is, I can’t imagine leaving a little soul like this alone for too long).

Anyway - we are going to retire to the boudoir now, where Wagner will keep the bedspread warm and grumble in his sleep.

With little people like this in your life, who needs a mental health system? Forget the Naomi trial - just give everyone a dog like Wagner to look after them.