Books. Covers. And the judging thereof.

There is a dog. He is a cross-breed: glossy sleek dalmation and (deep breath) Staffy bull terrier. I know, I know, the sturdy shape of his head gives out those 'I could grip your child in my jaws and never let go' vibes. Disney does not make films about his kind.

But this dog has the sweetest nature: he's kinda goofy and affectionate and excitable but very gentle. When he goes around the village, burly men approach with trepidation, and ask with a nervous laugh about his violent tendencies. People who don't know him steer away, giving him a wide berth.

Little sigh. They somehow fail to notice his soft, meltable-into eyes. They're missing out.

He's on his own for a couple of days, and there's a troupe of feeders and walkers taking care of him. I was appointed his 'hanging out on Thursday afternoon' buddy. He got to nap in the cool of the house (while I did some knitting in the garden), then we played chasing for a while. Settling him down before I left, I snuck some pictures.