I’m a purebred, registered with a balanced gait and glistening tri-colored coat.
My fragrant post-bath aroma makes humans rethink their definitions of wet-dog smell.
When you ask me to play dead, I break out my guitar and play “Casey Jones.”
Sometimes being man’s best friend is a ruff gig. Training and caring for my humans is an arduous but rewarding process. I alone am responsible for ensuring they get their daily walks. I never know when they might dare to run errands without me to protect them, or eat food without first using my keen nose to inspect it. They never acknowledge that a mere drizzle of my drool adds so much flavor. I feel that it’s wrong to keep such deliciousness to myself.
Will my humans care for me with the same level of commitment when I have hip dysplasia? Of course they will. Look at this face. What’s not to love? Genetic disorders aside, I dream of the day the humans reward me for my excellence by presenting me with the coveted red, white and blue Best in Show award.
Annie of Cocoa Beach
To err is human; to forgive, canine.
- Chomps McGee
Love is a four-legged word.
- Paws Woofland
Life is ruff. Get a lab.
- Yours truly, Sandy Barkley