Leroy

Let me tell you about my dog, Leroy.

First, the vitals:

Breed: Pug (but not a pure bred)
Age: Between 5 and 8 years old. Nobody knows for sure, except Leroy, and he ain't sayin' shit.
Story: I adopted Leroy last month from www.pomtotherescue.com, a Pomeranian rescue Web site, yes, but they also help out Terriers and Pugs.

Anyway, I was told that Leroy was found somewhere in North Highlands, abandoned. His front right leg recently was broken, but healed; X-rays revealed that it's OK. So, obviously, the dude's been through some shit. He has scoliosis. He's housebroken, likes to sleep but gets excited when you bring out a leash.

He was in and out of foster homes for a month before I chose to adopt. I've had him for just about a month.

He's a real chill dude. His normal day consists of sleeping through my alarm and shower, then we walk to East Portal Park for some run time and to drop a deuce. On occasion I bring him to work, whereupon he sleeps under my desk. If I leave him at home, he typically kicks it but totally freaks when I stroll through the door. He hits the sack around 6:30pm but is in and out of consciousness. His farts are lethal but short-lived. He's in love with his toy, Mr. Winkle, who I can't stand but find amusing as a toy. He likes to jump in the bed and get cozy, but I don't allow it, but nasty allows him to go on the bed so he seems to think it's OK (which it's not, Leroy. No!).

I'm going to get him a sweater this week 'cause he's a short-haired dog and his ass be freezin' lately. I'll post what I buy; I'm hoping for an Oakland A's sweater.