The Black Lab Mutts In My Life

Recently I took the FB quiz “What breed of dog are you?” and got the response that I am a beagle. My response was “big floppy ears, occasionally walks into walls, yep, sounds like me.” But I think the quiz is flawed. It must not have “black lab mutt” as a choice because I think that is what I must really be. Why? Because my three best doggie friends right now are all black lab mutts:

Barney
Barney is my family’s $25 backyard litter labramation/dalmador (black lab + dalmation, a.k.a. black lab mutt). He used to be jet black except for a white with black spots chest, white tip of tail, white tips of toes, and a gray nose; but now he is graying all over (he is ten years old now). But I think it just makes him the George Clooney of dogs. The way he is graying on his muzzle just brings out his brown eyes. His favorite toys are kong toys (with Scooby snacks in them of course) and hedgies (pretty much any furry toy that goes ::grrrunt:: instead of ::squeak::). He also enjoys wearing his santa coat and scaring people with his bark.

Lily
Lily is my landlady’s black lab mutt puppy. She has some very interesting quirks. (1) When I am sorting my dirty laundry (or folding clean laundry even) and I am obviously paying more attention to my laundry basket than I am to her; she drops whatever toy-of-the-day into my laundry basket and then stares at me like “where’d my toy go?” (2) When I am sitting in my chair in the living room eating dinner, watching a movie, doing a puzzle book (it doesn’t really matter) she likes to pile her toys on my lap so that if I’m not paying attention to her an avalanche of toys will fall off of my lap when I stand up. (3) She sleeps on a couch in the living room but every morning like clockwork, when I open my door, she comes in, drops to floor, rolls around on my carpet, and then demands a belly scratch.

Raven

Ah, Raven, the newest to the bunch. Raven is my friend’s shaggy black lab mutt. Raven’s favorite activities include sitting on people’s feet and demanding belly rubs. Although Raven wouldn’t hurt a fly (my friend had to stop getting squeaky toys for Raven because she wouldn’t play with them – she thought she was hurting them), but one night she did sit on me. Of course, I don’t know why I was on the floor to begin with.