THE HUNDRED-AND-FFIFTEENTH PAGE

It might have been amusing to say this was the dog who came to dinner--for he apparently was moving in--but he seemed not to eat breakfast, lunch, nor dinner. He didn’t appear to be a straight-A Weight Watchers student, so I figured he foraged on his occasional rambles about the property. This was confirmed about a week later when he vomited forth an unrecognizable little forest creature at the front door. I couldn’t complain if this was the worst to be done by the least expensively maintained pet in Ulster County.

In a couple of weeks, he made himself even more accommodating. I was tempted to honor his act by calling him Otto; he kindly became a part of the furniture and allowed me to prop my feet on him while I read. But I kept my resolve of keeping him nameless and collarless.

As the weather turned chillier and the longest day of the year neared again, I increasingly appreciated the furry footrest. In this service, he also kindly kept his belly down and did not indulge in his deathly angle of repose. Had he taken that alternate position and had I placed my feet on the bristly belly and been spotted through the window by the nosy FedEx man, there would have been even more talk of me on the village green than was needed.

Not every home has an ambulatory footrest, and I’m not entirely certain it is called for.