Dickens hails from Idaho. Born on a farm to Martins Buster (no joke) and Martins Daffodil (I can't make this stuff up). Dickens came to us via a pet store well visited by yours truly and let's just say the boy and I had eyes for each other.
My list of "musts" included intelligence (his, not mine), a even disposition (again, his, not mine) and size mattered. Dickens had competition. A "come hither" stare came from a poodle puppy who desperately ran around the "meeting room" to the point I became very, very dizzy. Too much pep in the poodle knocked the poor little one out of the running once Dickens strutted his stuff. After being caged up for who-knows-how-long, he settled. He checked me out for a while, then decided a rope bone offered more promise. That's what I wanted, a dog who could be in a relationship with a human, but wasn't afraid to amuse himself.
Mom says he's adorable and I know with age he'll calm even more. He's teething so Dickens and Mom keep their distance. In fact, Dickens mistook me for a Milk Bone and off to obedience school we went (first class last week). House training has been more hit than miss. He has my heart (which is alot better than my pant leg, which he took particular delight in chomping. He's been to the vet. Get's two more shots next month. He has his flea and tick med. Gobbled a peanut butter covered heartworm med, so we are good to go!
As of today, Dickens responds to the commands "Sit" and "Watch Me." When he's in "puppy mind" an atom bomb could explode and he'd ignore it. We're working on it.
I leave you now with a pretty poor shots of Dickens at play. Please know it's tough to walk a dog whilst looking through a viewfinder!
|Dickens discovers a stick with a headlight!|