I am Brandy and I am a 16 month old thug. Well, *I* think I am a good girl but my foster parents tell me that my behaviour towards small furry animals is rather anti-social.
I am a loving and friendly family dog; I like all people, old and young, and approach everyone with a wag of my tail and my ears turned out. The evenings, when we all sit around together and I can lean on my parents and enjoy a scratch behind the ears, are great. When my foster parents come down in the morning I am always waiting at the baby gate, my whole body wagging; I am just so pleased to see them – well, a dog doesn’t know what kind of exciting things we might get up to, does she? I know my commands; I have a snappy sit and will come back to call (unless that cat’s been in the garden again). I walk quite well on the lead although sometimes I pull if something along the way looks interesting. Food is a great motivator when we are training.
I don’t like cats one little bit and I have had an altercation with one which badly scratched my nose. My foster parents refused to show me any sympathy; they said I was obviously doing something I shouldn’t have been doing and it serves me right. My nose took an age to heal, and what with my acne I didn’t look at my best at first. Fortunately the scratch has healed and my acne is much better now.
In addition to cats, I am not good with small dogs. Dogs larger than me are a different matter; they are to be respected, and I play well with them after we have been introduced (running around is good). When some friends of my foster parents came round with their Danes I thought it prudent to stay under the table and not cause any trouble. I came out when they had gone. I think that small dogs are prey though and I will attack them given a chance. My foster parents say that I am a typical bully and as a result I am in boot camp. I still have a good look at little dogs when we are on a walk although I don’t lunge at them when I am on a lead or anything like that; I am just not trustworthy off lead in their presence. I also didn’t like going to the vet when my foster parents took me for my checkup and weigh in – that was an ears-down-and-tail-between-the-legs job. I hope I don’t have to go back. Maybe they are right and I am a bit of a bully as I also have a cowardly streak.
On the positive side, I am housetrained and have never been other than clean in the house. I am quiet and well behaved, except that from time to time I might raid the kitchen bin. Naturally I don’t do this when anyone is looking but I have left food wrappers (licked clean) on the floor and have taken the odd empty can for further washing at my bed. Don’t tell my foster parents, but I also stole some bread they had left aside for the birds off the kitchen worktop; they could have left better bread – it was a bit dry. I also try to get on the sofa when they aren’t looking but now they leave some cardboard boxes and a stool on it which seems a bit mean. I love my food and always eat up and then clean the floor around my bowl, just in case I dropped a bit.
The sort of home I would like would be one, perhaps with some land, where I don’t see too many dogs and where my new family would be willing to throw my ball for me – that is a game I really enjoy, along with catching snowballs. In return I will be your loyal family member. My previous family also gave me some toys to take with me, so maybe we could start by playing at ball?