I detailed the story of my friend Bacon a few months back.  I explained that he was a good doggie who was looking for a permanent home after bouncing around a few times with adoptive families who wound up not following through on their commitment to adopt.

Long story short, we reached a “last straw” moment at some point in the early spring.  Yet another round of adoption applications had resulted in no progress toward someone actually committing to adopt him.

I realized that, although living with me wasn’t an ideal situation for Bacon (since I have neither children nor another dog to serve as a playmate), he had been with me so long that the positive of going to an “ideal” home would be offset by the negative of being dislodged from surroundings to which he had become accustomed.

Since it was a wash at best, I decided to keep him.

So, he’s mine now.  All 27 pounds of him (which I’m told should be 23 pounds, so we’ll have to work on that).  He’s a good boy, and, although I wish he had more opportunities to play with other dogs, I think he’s happy here.