Gone to the Dogs

I don't know how it happened, but everyone in my family is now a dog person. Let me explain. We had a Doberman Pincher named Duke when I was a still in diapers, who we had to put to sleep when I was 8, and that was the last of any dogs in our household.

While serving a church mission in Michigan I came to despise and loathe dogs of all kinds, especially the ones who shed on my black skirts and black tights meant to keep me warm from the biting cold. Nothing bothered me more than to have some four legged creature rub up against me and deposit their nasty pelt on my clothing that could only be laundered once a week on preparation day. Well, maybe having doors slammed in my face or appointments falling through, or perhaps contentious investigators or non-supportive ward members actually bothered me more, but you get the point about how I felt about dogs.

So, going back to my first line in this post that everyone in my family is now a dog person, I must include myself in that statement. Back in November 2006 my mother (and father) fell in love with my brother and sister-in-laws Teacup Yorkie, Chloe, and thought it just might be fun to get a dog. So on December 10 they did just that, they went and got a Morkie, 1/2 Yorkie 1/2 Maltese. They named her Bailey and we are all smitten.

She has now been in the family for over 6 months and is a little ball of energy.

So about 2 months ago my youngest brother got a boxer and named him Dash, which is quite the opposite of his personality, because he is the most sluggish dog I have ever seen. He recently got his ears cropped, which explains his "party" hat.