PJ

PJ (I didn't ask but it's probably short for Paul Jacob) isn't a stray I'm worrying about and feeding. He's a sweet little neighbor dog, a shih tsu I think. I pet him and talk to him, and he wiggles and jumps up on my new coat with his dirty little snow-covered feet. The best part is that he belongs to an older woman who takes him to the vet and to the groomer and seems to take very good care of him, and I don't have to worry nary a lick about him. And every time I've opened my mouth to offer to take care of him if she has to go somewhere, my guardian angel smacks her hand over my mouth to keep me from saying it.