When I was growing up, I always wanted a big dog. My dad, bless his heart, took me to look at several different breeds, the most memorable being a St. Bernard! I also kept trying to convince him an Afgan was the dog for me. Poor dad. I don't know if he was just humoring me or not, but I thought it was pretty nice of him to go through all this, even though we never got any of them.

One day at school, there was this stray mutt running around the grounds. The minute I laid eyes on him, I knew he was going to be my friend. He picked me out of all the other kids and followed me everywhere. I heard that they were going to call Animal Control to pick him up, so I lied and told them he was mine. They called my dad at work while I was sitting there in the office and just as I had hoped, he went along with my story and the let me take him home.

What an amazing he was. He looked just like a medium sized sheep dog or some type of terrior mix. Lots of blond fur all over the place. I always had to keep his bangs cut, so he could see!

I had him all the way through high school and took him with me when I moved out on my own. He never needed a leash and would stay by my side wherever I went. I could even leave him outside when visiting friends and he would wait patiently on their front porch. Obviously I was not the responsible dog owner that I am today but things seemed different in those day I guess.

Anyway, since then I have only had greyhounds and although I would consider them to be my favorite breed, my first mutt deserves credit for being one of the best.

Mutts rule!

Jenn