Poor pup. She didn't have a collar. Her ribs were showing. Her skin looked like a mangy mess. She had scabby sores on her shoulders from some type of injury. She was just a mess.
I got up to begin running again not sure what to do about the dog. Where were her owners? Where had she come from? Why was she following me?
We named her
For the record, the Supreme Leader is displeased. But Clementine is a smart girl and gives the little tyrant a fairly wide berth
Last night, during the middle of the night, Clementine used her nose to slide the latch from her kennel open then stealthily opened the door. She quietly creeped across the floor and slowly approached the foot of the bed. She put her nose under the comforter and calmly climbed up into the bed.
As she lay curled up near our feet, I reached down to pet her. All the while my mind was wildly racing. Do I let her stay in the bed?
Suddenly, Mr. Strong rolled over and asked, "Are you ok?"
Not being able to contrive a story on the spot, I blurted out, "Clementine is in the bed with us."
Very calmly, he said, "Honey, that is my leg you are petting."
Instantly, I realized I had been dreaming. The poor man probably thought I was trying to be amorous. I laughed and then realizing I didn't have a dog to move, rolled over and went back to sleep.