I love the dog.
He is a big, friendly mutt. Ostensibly he is part Shepherd and part Rottweiler. God alone knows what’s really in there.
When he’s asleep and dreaming he makes wolf howls. What forest is he hunting in many thousands of years ago? Somewhere in his genetic code is a memory he recalls only in sleep.
In the middle of the day the wolf howls can send me flying out of my chair until I realize what it is and that he’s okay.
He looks ferocious and he has this big set of piano keys better known as teeth. When he wishes to send a warning he just needs to bare the whole set. I guess that’s why they call him a canine?
His name, by the way, is Cid as in El Cid, the savior of Christian Spain.
Except for the big teeth he doesn’t look at all like Charlton Heston.
He is either guarding us or he is indiscriminately making friends wherever he can.
He loves little kids and most of them, the ones who are not afraid of dogs, love him back.
Sometimes I suspect that if a thief came to the house, he’d help the thief carry out the TV.