So that’s new? But he really is. Today I took him to the vet for his checkup, where Gator behaved beautifully. The vet commented on Gator’s good temperament several times. By the way, Gator is up to sixty pounds–right where he ought to be for his age. 
Then we (me, Gator, and Justin) went on to the Brook Run dog park. There Justin found other dogs happy to chase him around the park, and Gator found every tennis ball and had me throw it. He behaved well with the other dogs, and several people commented on what a handsome, happy young man he was. Finally I tired him out … for a while. You know, when I first saw these 
plastic ball throwers I thought they looked like such a waste of good money. With Gator, though, I got one … just to see. Oh, they are worth every penny! I can throw a lot farther with them than I can without, and have another ball ready to go the minute Gator gets back with the first one. I can also throw balls a lot longer, and (miracle of miracles!) don’t have to pick up the nasty, dirty, filthy, slimy, slobbery ball. It’s good for both of us.
Gator, however, doesn’t just want to play. He is a total lovebug, and sticks close to me. Justin goes off and does his own thing much of the time, coming in to check on me now and then. Gator has to be *right* with me. After we came home I settled in to work, and while I was setting up the Blackboard sites for my classes, Gator lay quietly at my feet, now and then chewing his Kong. When I was cooking dinner, of course Gator had to be in the kitchen. When I was torching, however, he was still right next to my chair. I cannot go to the toilet without canine supervision, and he lay curled up in my tiny bathroom while I took a shower. He’s now on the bed (I gave up) sleeping right on my feet.
Young labs are energetic, and they take work — but I can tell you that Gator is going to give whoever adopts him a wonderful reward, in the form of a happy, loving, sweet-tempered boy. If the last three months are any indication, I can tell you that Gator will just become better and better. When I first began to foster Gator, I had to feed him in his crate–he would eat anything at supersonic speeds, and would not leave Justin any food at all. Now, Gator polishes off his own bowl, but as long as Justin is eating, he lets Justin eat in peace. Gator is a good, sweet, smart boy. He may not have pretty feathers, like a Golden, but he is a beautiful, elegant boy in his own right, and he so desperately wants a real Forever Home.