Cambridge the Pup

What silly ninny came up with the idea of bringing animals into the house to serve as “pets,” I’d like to know?  Right now there is a four month old puppy messing around at my feet, passing gas in the rudest fashion, and tearing up a plastic flower container he snagged when the flower was planted a couple hours ago.  He grabbed that cheap piece of plastic off the grass and ran across the yard holding it high in the air like it was the mirrorball trophy or something.  

One of the victims

The house is a wreck.  The stuffed toys our son bought him (it’s really his dog—the one he’s going to take care of—honest—uh-huh) are lying about in shreds—the stuffing long gone.  His rope toys are strewn about the floor also.  Then there are the partially eaten rawhide bones…boy, they’re pretty to look at!

February--On his way home from the breeder's

Cambridge (yeah, I know—strange name for a dog, right?) is a Staffordshire bull terrier.  We were told that this particular breed will adapt to your lifestyle.  For example—if you like to run, he’ll run with you.  If you like to sit on the couch and watch TV, he’ll be right next to you with a bowl of popcorn on his lap.  What’s wrong with that, you ask?  Well it can go too far, let me tell you.  When you’re trimming the bushes, he starts chewing off branches.  Unfortunately any branch will do.  If you’re weeding; he’s going to dig a big fat hole next to you.  Inside, he has taken to following me all around the house.  If I leave the room, he’s right behind me.  It doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of gobbling down his food, taking a nap, or tearing up a favorite toy—if I go, he goes.  Got to run upstairs?   Yep, he’s up for it.  Need to get something from the basement—here he comes!  I’m starting to wonder what’s going to happen when I take the bike out for a ride….guess I’m in the market for a Big Wheel...and a little puppy-sized helmet, of course. 

Mr. Cambridge keeping an eye on me.

Exhausted after a long day of following me around.