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.