a journal entry about the intriguing fourth type of dog.
We were lucky. Of all the types of dogs there is the “roll over puppy”. We owned one, his name was Melvin. His name meant “both a master and servant”.
He was not the lascivious dog that wears a trench coat with nothing under it. He was not the armadillo dog who pees as he scrunches up shaking at the sight of a mouse. Nope. He was that dog sunning himself on a rock completely oblivious to the averted eyes of the grandpups; a grandpa in underwear. When hormones made other dogs’ legs stiff and neck hair raise Melvin very wisely pulled a Ghandi and negotiated on his back. Confidently.
There was the time of course when Melvin diplomatically met two German Shepards in this way. All was well until one of these dogs approached my son all cocky like. I knew Melvin’s strength but even I was amazed at the transformation. So were the Shepards.
a cuddly bear
in fluffy fur