The Handshake slipped to the tip of my tongue

Eight hours from now I will be daftly navigating the Jersey Turnpike to an area north of New Brunswick ... all for a dog.


Midge was born a runt, hound/boxer (and pit, but my apartment doesn't need to know that) mix that eventually developed a crazy case of mange. See side. Rawhide Rescue nursed her back to health. She's now a hairy little wiggle beast. Also see below. Unfortunately she's skittish. Not in the aggressive way (biting, lunging, attacking), but in the cowering, OMGHALPME crawling type. I've been told she does not like car rides, so the hour and a half drive back to Collingswood will be fun. Then I just have to juggle Midge, her two crates, a week's worth of food and a bucket full of toys from my car to my 10th floor apartment.

Despite the difficulties, I can't shrug off the deal. When I first sat down to pet her, she fixed me with this... look. Damn dogs and their LOOKS.

Expect web cam clips tonight, if all goes well.

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