What I've learned in the past seven months:
I have a high tolerance for the dog I love. Even though she recently completed her mission to eat every last wooden spoon in my kitchen, it took forever (it seemed) to potty train her, she has learned to open the gate so she can escape to the neighbor's house, she comes to give kisses every single time she gets a drink of water, and she farts like a rotting corpse. What I love about her is that she likes to watch tv, especially the nature shows. The other day we were watching "life" and she tried to climb through the tv to get at the polar bear. Her type was breed for bear hunting, coincidence? Any time I move to a new room, she will inevidably be found nearby within moments, to include laying down between my legs and the stove while I'm cooking, and on her too-small doggie bed by the computer or the bead table, or sometimes, even waiting outside the bathroom door for me (she has also learned how to open that door, yikes!) She sleeps perfectly quietly in her crate, even letting us sleep in on the weekends, and anytime someone walks into my bedroom in the middle of the night, she loudly sounds the alarm.
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