I have a new grand-dog. She’s about 9 months old, and seems to be an English Staffordshire terrier. Or a reasonable facsimile. She’s white, with very short hair so her pink skin shows through, and she has pink around her mouth and inside her ears. She has no eyebrows, which makes her have a vulnerable look. She was abandoned on the road near my son’s house. He and his partner said they wouldn’t keep her, but they would take care of her until they found a permanent home for her. Well, you know how that goes.
First they got a collar. Rose colored, because she’s so pink. Then they got a soft bed for her. Then they said that if they should keep her, they would name her Zoey. Then they sent photos of her, and I wrote back that they might as well send out announcements. They denied it at first, but now she’s their dog and they’re as goofy as any new dog owners.
They’re convinced that Zoe’s the smartest dog in the universe, and the most patient and cuddly. She has either already gone to obedience school or she just naturally sits when people say “Sit,” and she stays when people say “Stay.” Her only little negative is that she gets excited when she goes for a walk and tends to nip at her companion’s ankles. I know people who do the same thing, so I don’t think that’s anything to worry about, but my son is studying up on ways to curb it. I guess it depends on whether it’s your ankles that are being nipped if you think it’s a bad habit. Anyway, she’s a cute puppy and I find myself wearing a sappy grin just because hearing about love makes me smile.