Just after I took this photo, I went outside to play with Winston. He immediately came out of the crate, which had been removed from the car to make way for two chairs we’d had reupholstered, and sauntered away from me. I loved on him for a while but it became clear he wanted nothing to do with me.
I went back inside the house and looked out of the kitchen window. He was making his way back inside the crate.
When a dear and trusted friend noticed the post about getting him a dog house, she said, “you know, if you do that, he’ll never come inside” to which I replied, “he stays outside anyway – not at night though.”
He loves to be outside. Or, is it that he doesn’t love to be loved inside? I’m stumped.