Holly stayed with me again. Nervous at first, she'd only take her meals on the living room armchair, eating while I sat next to her holding the bowl.
But soon she was more her hammy self, squeaking about walks, belly rubs, and chewy treats. She tolerated storms yet ran away from mashed potatoes. Who doesn't like mashed potatoes?
She was quick to warm up to Sandy. It took only a few minutes before Holly got on the couch to offer her bad breath. But then Hollytosis was standoffish with Denise and Michelle. Who can know what goes on in a dog's mind? Hal says she's not self-aware.
Which could maybe explain why she'd wedge herself into the couch and under the covers, then try to kick me out of the way. Still, I enjoyed her company. Come back soon, little space invader!