Tyson

     After our trip to Hawaii (see posts from 4/27/2019 - 5/13/2019 ), upon my arrival in Los Angeles on Monday, April 29, I was greeted by the usual things that, as many times as I've experienced them, never cease to delight me all over again:   The blue skies and palm trees,

...the warm West Coast air, the colorful California  flora,

...my daughter and son-in-law's cozy, inviting  home,

...and the jungley  view from their back yard,

​...and, of course, my grand daughters, with whom I'd just spent the week in Hawaii, and now would be spending another week.

    And then there's my little grand dog Pinkey-Poo,

​...to whom I made very clear when I first met him a couple of years ago that I was not a dog person. (See post from 7/28/2017, "I Am Not A Dog Person").

   Upon my arrival this time I met the newest canine member of the family: Tyson

    As to how Tyson arrived, apparently a neighbor of my daughter's posted on Nextdoor,  the neighborhood website, a photo of Tyson with a plea for someone to adopt him, as he was a rescue pup who'd over-stayed his allotted time in the shelter without being adopted and  was scheduled to be euthanized the following day.
​          As my daughter tells it, her heart was captured by the plight of this pooch with his adorably sad punim.

    So now I have two grand dogs.

   As to what breed Tyson might be, that information is unknown, but it's been determined that he's around two years old, and he kinda looks like a cross between a sheep dog,

​...a pit bull,

...King Kong,

...and, from certain angles, the creature from "Ghostbusters."

     Though it's taken some time for Tyson to acclimate himself to the "do's" and "don't's" of life as a house-dog - he'd been neither spayed nor house-trained when he arrived -  he seems to be a pretty chill fellow by nature, who doesn't appear to mind sharing the humans,

​...and generally puts up with pinky's annoying habit of jumping on him.

       And, even though it's well known that I'm not a dog-lover, for some reason with Tyson it was love at first sight.
        I don't mean it was me who fell in love with him; it was him who fell in love with me.
        From the moment I met him, and snapped that first shot,

...Tyson followed me around everywhere I went, which is probably why I got so many pictures of him: Every time I turned around, there he was behind me, looking up at me with those soulful eyes.

   And even though I explained to Tyson that I'm not a dog person and requested that he kindly respect my space...

​   Sometimes he'd even plop his paw or his head on my foot, as if he wanted to connect himself to me.

    Of course, Tyson didn't love me exclusively,

...but I do believe he loved me best.  Unless he just loved getting his picture taken,

​...like his brother.