Sue’s last post about Louis pining for some lady-hound company is a tad understated.
There was a tell-tale puddle by a lamppost that Louis got attached to. He took some dragging away. That was followed by dribbling and gnashing of teeth; a sure sign of a lady-hound advertising.
Since getting home he’s whimpered and whimpered and camped out by the hall door. Three hours later and he’s finally stopped whimpering but he’s lying on MY SOFA looking all forlorn.