They named me Mick Jagger yesterday. Crazy kids.
Maybe Mickey would be better. Or maybe something really tough and masculine like Jake or Bud.
I’m one of five puppies who came north yesterday from Tennessee. My four sisters — here for less than a weekend — are all pretty much adopted. (Okay, one is being fostered with the possibility of adopting, but we all know how that usually turns out.)
So, why me? Why am I the only one left?
Clearly, I’m cute. I get along with everybody. I don’t even care what you call me.
But please, call me.
For information on adopting Mick Jagger please email firstname.lastname@example.org.