Oh, shoot. I'd say my favorite dog of the moment is my Australian Cattledog, who some idjut abandoned on our property three years ago. I tried to run him off, but failed miserably. He's a great companion, smart, accompanies me on walks, loves to ride in the truck, plays ball, and makes me laugh - not just a chuckle, but a good belly laugh - at least once a day. Ya oughta see him herding crickets... Then there's our miniature schnauzer, who's been with us nearly eight years, since she was a 3-pound pup. This one has rules. We haven't figured out where they came from, but she has rules and they have to be obeyed. For instance, when walking in town, when we encounter a parked car in our path, she takes four sharp 90-degree turns to get around it. Can't round out those corners. Nope. 90-degree turns. Every time. Then there's the gray line rule. We have two colors of tile in our country place, gray and beige. Well, Miss Thing can't cross the line. She'll walk up to it, but will stop and whimper at the edge. Doesn't matter which side of the line she's on. She can't cross it. Has to be picked up and placed across the line. Oh, yeah. And there's the nyla-bone rule. She can only chew one end. The other end must remain pristine. Of course she borrowed this rule from the Cattledog. Now, how he passed this information to her I haven't a clue. But she picked it up about a year ago. Then there's the hump-backed, arthritic, elderly chihuahua/terrier mix (our vet says he's a good 12-years old) who somehow made his way into our home and hearts a couple of months ago. He's got some interesting mannerisms that I won't get into, but suffice it to say that he makes us laugh and enjoy his company, despite my pledge a number of years ago to never have anything to do with those rat-dog chihuahua things. I mean, geeze, our first dog was an English bulldog who ate socks, snored, drooled constantly and had a major problem with gas... It doesn't get any better than that, does it? I guess I just love 'em all.
