Pet Family Yearbook - Domingo

My cousin, Lia, recently sent me a couple of photos of her dog, Domingo, whom I've never met, and I can't stop looking at them - have you ever seen such a melancholy face?

Domingo is a year or so old and of mixed-breed adorability - maybe chihuahua and something else. I have no idea, and I do not care because his eyes are looking into the very depths of my soul. Perhaps he's just humiliated by the devil horns I sent him for Halloween last year, or maybe he really is a Romantic-era poet reincarnated, but if he were my dog and gave me that look, I would buy him his own car. And a house with a swimming pool. Damn.

Lia found Domingo last year on a San Diego street under some bushes near a canyon - 10 weeks old and 6 lbs. with a black eye and patches of missing fur, and took him home where he slept for two days. She wasn't looking for a dog at the time, but sometimes the dog finds you, and what can you do? It's like a gift from the gods - you can't possibly say no. And now, she says, she can't imagine life without him.

Indeed.

The first picture