I've wondered several dozen times in the past twelve months ..."What in doggy heaven's name am I doing--at my age-- with a new puppy in the house". And the bride just grins and says "relax".
She's right.
This critter is smart, well-behaved, quick to learn, anxious to please, incredibly energetic, a helluva herder (He helps me get where I'm going by gently nipping at my heels in true sheep dog style). He's a mix of Australian Shepherd (high energy/mega smarts/lightning speed) and Poodle (doesn't shed).
Both of his forbearer breeds are working dogs. The dog's owners (that's us) need to supply the dog with a job or sufficient exercise to compensate for the lack of one. Lacking outside employment, the enterprising and energetic pup will get his own job. And it will invariably involve somebody's shoes.
Which leads Waterblogged to say, once again, "What in doggy heaven's name am I doing--at my age, and with a worked-over pair of Bjorns--with a new puppy in the house?".
He's here; he's staying; the bride is happy.
And--truth to tell--he's gotten to me , too.
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