This is Pancake. Still not totally clear why my son chose that name, but there are some things you just go with.
Pancake is quite a sweet dog. He’s seven months old now. Seems to have figured out getting outside to pee and poop, for which I’m grateful.
In this picture, Pancake is wearing by one of those cones. So that he won’t undo the new stitching he has from being neutered.
In this picture, I’m cheating the rules by having him up on the furniture. He’s next to me on the couch. He’s settled. So am I.
In a “just because” way, I love this picture. It’s his soft eyes, despite the ordeal of surgery and this clunky cone. It’s his wispy hair that frames his eyes. It’s his ever attentive ears.
I suppose there is a softness that I’m compelled toward. In myself. In the people I’m with. This little pancake reminds me of that.