When I went into the run, he slowly got up, walked to the back of the pen and waited. I swear, I think he was waiting to see if I was going to beat him. When I sat on the floor, he very tentatively came up to me. I held my hand out and he just looked at it, not sure if it was going to be kind or cruel. I studied him as he studied me.
Every rib sticks out like a walking skeleton.
His coat is horrendous, coming out in tufts. He is limping on one leg, apparently having been hit by a car. He moved very slowly with me but never once showed any aggression, just some gentle curiosity. This dog doesn't seem to have ever known kindness. I named him Spirit because so many with a lesser spirit would have given up by now.