<<with apologies to Forest Gump…>> Mutts are like a box of chocolates—you never know what you’re gonna get. Over the course of our almost 40 years together, my husband and I have spun the roulette wheel of doggie DNA six times as we’ve welcomed “mutts” into our lives. Three were labeled Shepard/Husky mixes, one was a lab mix, one was a shepherd/Carolina dog mix, and one was straight up Heinz 57 (a Puerto Rican street dog with at least 57 breeds in his lineage.) Success ratio: 1 out of 6. Dog one was the truest to his cage tag of shepherd/husky mix. I suspect there were other breeds mixed in there, but those were his predominant size, color, and personality traits. So far so good. Dog two was not even close to the shepherd/husky mix the cardboard box at a South Carolina flea market promised. He topped out at a whopping 104 pounds. He had Doberman markings, but we never did figure out what the “big dog” cross was. And, um, let’s just same he didn’t have quite the IQ of
Fun "tails" involving mutts, mayhem, and murder!