This is Eowyn, our youngest Golden retriever:
She’s sort of a rescue, we owned her brother Remington and he died at 18 months of a blood disorder. Just a week after that happened our breeder had to take Eowyn away from the family she’d been placed with. My wife Rochelle and I try to alternate between rescues and breeder pups (our oldest Golden, Buddy, is a rescue and going strong at 12 and a half!) and because she was related to Remy we took her in. Best decision ever.
Point being, though we have a cat, we’re mostly dog people. And here’s why.
Last night Eowyn farted, startled herself, and barked at her own ass for a full minute. I was laughing too hard to get video. I feel like I let you all down, because that shit was hilarious.
(Yes that’s a ribbon in her hair, and yes that’s a skull and crossbones on her collar. Eowyn is Hard. Core.)
(Except when she barks at her own ass. It’s difficult to be hard core when your own orifices surprise you)