. . . took in other foster dog. Two-year-old CeCe was surrendered to a shelter because someone in his family was apparently allergic to him. He's kind of a wild man, so he was deemed a no-go for the adoption floor. Our home is far too small for a fourth dog, but I don't like the thought of doggies spending Christmas on a cement floor in a shelter. And the shelter where he landed is a nice one, as shelters go, but still. Maybe I am just a little bit sappy after all. Don't tell anyone.
CeCe is freshly neutered. He has attempted to hump Gideon, Gretchen, and Kaiser in turn. I can't say that any of them were open to the idea. In fact, CeCe has been told to go fuck himself about eighty different times in the last hour. So far, he has not been effectively dissuaded from violating his new friends.
He smells like a shelter but I'm hesitant to give him a bath since it's five degrees outside. I sprayed some groomer's cologne on him, so now he smells like a shelter with hints of wet dog. He's also more vocal than the others. Remember the Hamburglar? That's how he sounds. Robble-robble, robble-robble.