I have a new foster dog. His name is Tyson. He’s a sweet boy. I picked him up a few hours ago from Happy Tails Dog Spa where he was being boarded. He’s been roaming my apartment, sniffing everything. He found a tennis ball on one of my bookshelves. It was shelved in non-fiction, biography, which is an odd place for a tennis ball, since I have no books on tennis or players of tennis, but it was mainly there because there hasn’t been a dog at The Compound yet who plays with toys. Tyson plucked it from the shelf and carried it around for a while, until he found a bone. He traded the ball for the bone and carried that around for a while, until he found the dog bed, which appears to be the perfect place to chew a bone, because that’s where he’s been for the past hour.