He's a one-year-old beagle-something mix, and his new name appears to be "Pom-pom", both for the jaunty little fuzzball on the top of the old-school matelot cap as well as the rapid-firing light cannon. It's also a corruption of his shelter name, "Pomegranate" (he was imported to the Portland Humane Society from a shelter in Merced County, CA, and the intake volunteer seems to have had a taste for whimsical fruit, because he and his brothers and sisters were all named things like "Pecan" and "Mangosteen") but all in all it seems to fit him.
He's a cocky little bastard, and he's got a lot to learn about getting along with people, and other dogs, and Nitty the Cat. But he seems to be a very gentle and happy little fellow, too, so we're hopeful.
But I'd forgotten how much bloody work a new dog is. Fixing up the fences around the yard so he stays in the yard, trying to arrange the house to cat and dog don't collide catastrophically, if you will. Training wives and kids who have no experience training young dogs. So I apologize in advance for the light posting over the next week or so, but you see how it is.
Here's one last snapshot:
Sit. Pom-pom! Stay!
