So I honor this beast, one of 3 actually, known for walking his person up and down the street at all hours of day, night, and storm. Appropriate considering his name of Boomer. Dedicated to me when I least want to exercise, this one-eyed mongrel hound of 14 years forces me up the street and down the street as I do my in 1x and out 4. Of course I forget my breathing count when the old boy barks at passing dogs when he forgets being too old to do much. Poor but happy Boom lost an eye when young and unadopted to a crud of a being who found it fun to abuse said listed pup. So I forgive the hound when he barks louder than I can possibly explain, quaking the house and neighboring abodes. He pulls me when I lollygag, and I in turn jerk him away from the blind-side trees and car fenders and my knee. He is rather large so walking him at night is a safe experience, though he could barely see any oncoming danger and old boys nasal passages are weak,but say to you all, if needed, seek and find and rescue a beast abused or not, and walk with joy. And most importantly, ignore the incessant thunder-sounding bark and realize you too would yowl if someone plucked with spoon a visionary orb from the skull. But should you fret for this dog's comfort rest assured he is fit and happy. A student of mine, a youngster with autism visiting my home this summer, decided to test the socket. Fret not, Boomer simply wagged as young vermin child placed forefinger in socket, to the knuckle. The boy told me it was dry and crunchy inside (bark-like if you will) and Boom never flinched. My walking exercise beast is truly a breath of fresh air.