I got back from Mass yesterday and sure enough, there was a dog on the porch. A Heeler. No collar. So I gave him some food and water, expecting him to be on his way after he'd had some scoff.
|This Dog Hates Libs|
But no, he was there this morning, sleeping on the doormat. I fed him again, on the porch, and he followed me to the store, and back, to his home on the porch. And that's where he's staying. Outside.
Obedient dog, sits, heels (obviously) and likes running after the pickup, just like he's supposed to do. A church lady saw him this afternoon and I asked what she thought of the beast. "That's a cow dog," she said and she'd know.
|Your Home is Outside|
He can stay on the porch and I'll feed him when he's not foraging; he can add an extra tier of defense to the operation, if he chooses to stay.
Every bit will help in the coming collapse.