Thoughts to challenge, celebrate, and elevate the college fraternity and sorority.
What's Your Squirrel?
I have a dog named Snickers. She’s a 50-pound Labradoodle that we adopted several years ago. She’s the first dog that I can remember owning. My parents had a Siberian Husky – a wrecking ball of fuzz – when I was a young child. I never really knew him, but I do remember that he ingested half of our bathroom door. I’m not sure why my parents expected more out of a dog they named “Goober.”
Snickers is a lovely dog. She has her quirks and bad habits. She likes to express her jubilance at meeting new people by either (a) jumping up on them or (b) peeing on the floor. She also likes to chew up plastic hangers. A couple each day – or about a pack a week.
The best part about Snickers is how gentle and sweet she is with our kids. They can do just about anything to her (and have), and she shrugs it off. I’m actually a little surprised that she has any fur left at all. Or any ribs. Or a backbone. Or a tail. Or any shred of dignity.