I don’t know where I was born, or who my parents were. My earliest memory is from when I was very small. I was running as fast as I could down a big street called The Arlington. There were giant cars whizzing by, and I was trying to catch them. A woman chased me down and caught me. I was happy being with her until I found out that she already had a dog named Henry, and I knew I had to get rid of that dog, because I do not share. I went after Henry.
That was a mistake, because the nice woman took me to Jon’s house. Jon is my human. But in those days, Jon had ten dogs staying at his house. This was a nightmare for me. I had to attack all ten dogs. One of them, a Great Pyrenees, was as mean as I was, and he bit part of my ear off. In the end, that was all right, because it gives me character and makes me look even cuter.
In my early days with Jon, I tried to run away a lot. My running away and my attacking other dogs made Jon take me to training classes. They were sort of fun for a while, and I was good at them because I am smart, but then I got bored and just sat there, not obeying any commands. It worked, and Jon didn’t make me go anymore. Sometimes training your human is hard work.
For a while, until I won him over, Jon tried to find another home for me. He introduced me to a woman who seemed to like me. But by then I had decided Jon was a good human and I wanted to stay with him, so I bit a nearby Labrador and the woman went away.
Living with Jon and the dogs he takes care of has made me nicer, because it is tiring trying to be top dog when there are lots of other dogs around and you weigh only 18 pounds. Also, there was a cat who kept whacking me in the head.
Now that I am 6 years old, I am mostly a good dog. When we are at Point Isabel, I stay close to Jon. In fact, I even show other dogs how to behave. The people at the dog park think I’m a sweetie, and I mostly am, but I haven’t completely abandoned my old ways. Jon knows that my dark side is there, and I can show it at any time.