No Room At the Inn

After my neighbors offered me a kitten from the stray litter they rescued ("Uh..no.") I hit my usual Thursday afternoon at the Humane Society. The cast of characters hasn't changed much from last week, save Sundance the puppy (of course) who was adopted, and Snoopy's gone as well, though replaced by another beagle named Star. Every kennel was full, even one that sits outside. I walked Chudo first, but he just played tug-o-war with the leash. I then decided to walk Ben, who was jumping so high in his kennel I'd swear he could dunk a basketball. Once I got him out, he peed like there's no tomorrow, making me wonder if anyone else had bothered to pay attention to these dogs all day, or just assumes the dogs aren't house trained and will just relieve themselves in the outside part of their kennels.
Fortunately, a young couple showed up around 5 and started playing some of the dogs out in the yard, so I felt better about not getting to them all myself. and spent more time skritching those hard-to-reach earholes of the ones under my charge.
Black Jack is just a beautfiul dog. His picture just doesn't do him justice. He has a wonderful gait. Loves a good belly rub. Might not mind a bad one.
Spent the last five minutes as they were closing down and turning off lights in the back two cat rooms, doing my Hollywood Squares-esque center-up-left-right-center-down petting pattern as cats reached out and meowed and rubbed against bars. Lest people label me a dog person, I will include a picture of one of the more voiceferous fellas, whose name I later saw was Tomas.