White Dog is filled with ennui today. After dragging over one toy she loses interest then gets another, finally walking away from all of them in boredom.
She jumps up to acknowledge Christine's arrival but settles across Chris' lap staring off into space. Of course, she does appreciate the ear scratching she receives.
Outside, White Dog wanders past her on-going excavations, Max's rawhide bones, and the dry grass mound. She takes care of her toilet and sits for a moment under the big tree. With an audible sigh she indicates her desire to return inside.
White Dog now lies on the cool hearth, big dark eyes peering, unfocused. I can almost hear her childish: "I'm so bored--there's nothing to do."
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