A language unto its own...
OK, so now I will share what turned out to be the number one gift that "Santa" brought this year. Sort of...
I never had pets as a kid other than the fish I chose to buy from the pet store when I reached age 12. I always wanted a dog, but it wasn't going to happen in a family of eight kids.
When I was in college, I inherited an abused puppy. It was lost and I adopted it. A year and a half later I learned what this beautiful dog was - half Afghan (by body type) and half Golden Retriever (by color). She was quite the athletic dog as a youngster, bounding through high grass fields as an adolescent like a deer bounding across a landscape. I never did quite figure that gait out... It was a most joyful thing to watch. The owner turned out to be a schizophrenic who let her go just before getting in trouble with the law - again, assuming someone responsible would find her. I did... I kept him far from her.
Later when Dominique was diagnosed with breast cancer, my sister was breeding and showing 3 different types of dogs. She sent me a most wonderful 7-month old puppy. A 125 pound Great Dane puppy.

Actually she stashed him with me because her litter was from quite the lineage, and all her competition wanted to have one of those 9 puppies. Eventually Brandon left my home to go on the show circuit. He retired a champion, and now has great grandpups as champions in the US and Canada. She then sent "Big Guy" to me, who stayed with me until he passed away. Big Guy was with me through the birth of number 1 son, and my son used to crawl over and sleep inside Big Guy's "U" (the shape a dog takes when curled up on the floor).
No dogs since then. With two people working and nobody domestic in the house, it didn't seem fair.
But the boys have been campaigning for several years now to have a dog. I told them only when the house was kept clean for a year. I was a hardass... I was only trying to be fair to any dog coming in the home. That's what a dog lover does.
But this Christmas, Santa noticed some very short lists. And "dog" was on both lists. And the boys had done a lot of work on cleaning the house before I had repair people in replacing my heating and hot water system.
Hmm...
I consulted older sister. We talked for a bit. A Great Dane was out of the question in this suburbian home. In the right home yes but... Maybe one day.
I had 3 dogs in mind.
The first was a Jack Russel Terrier. It's small enough, and enough of a "guy" dog that male owner won't think he's neutered. (A poodle or "fluff" dog will NOT enter this house, except maybe as dinner to a larger dog.

Sorry to you poodle and foo foo dog owners; it's my house and my personal taste.

) Jack Russels are neat enough. They love everyone, will fit anywhere, and love to run and hunt. They are short-haired and so won't make a mess. Sister thought it an interesting and good choice.
The second dog I mentioned was a Standard Schnauzer. I once had a girlfriend with a miniature Schnauzer, and that dog loved me more than my girlfriend. She chose to be with me when she was having her puppies. They also are terriers (a tenacious, warrior breed) and - best of all - they don't shed. You just need to do either the clipping or plucking thing. A Standard is a bit bigger, and won't piss your house like the toy breeds are want to do at times. Sister also thought this a good choice.
Then I told my sister what I secretly really wanted. It was one of the breeds she had showed. My sister in the 1980s owned a dog of this breed that won 7 Best In Show awards. That is highly unusual, by the way... I was thinking my sister would tell me that this might be a great guy dog, but wouldn't be good with the boys. Little did I know that my sister was about doing backflips on the other side of the phone line. "That's your number 1 choice!" she said. Funny how instinct can preceed proper research like that.
I've done the research. Now I know this is the breed.
Santa did more research. Santa located a breeder on the east coast who has been in the business of producing these dogs since 1959. I believe he's the oldest. And one of his dogs was a granddad of my sister's great champion. Small world... And the man had a litter of puppies that were 3 weeks old. They will be ready for a home soon.
We will go visit them tomorrow, and see if we can find a match. Meanwhile, I left the boys with a picture inside a gift-wrapped box. Yes, they are psyched.
I leave it to you dog people to figure out the breed. Here is one of the puppies in the litter. And yes, everything you need to know to nail the breed is right there in the picture.
I can't believe I did this. I can't believe the boys broke me down. But I know George believes it...
- Bill