Let's start small, shall we? This is Cassie. She's a Golden Doodle, she's nearly six months old, and I think she's a tiny Einstein. At least, she LOOKS like a tiny Einstein. She acts like a tiny Aretha Franklin.
I think she's fabulous. Okay, I know, I may be slightly prejudiced. But, honestly. She really is fabulous! She's clever, and silly, and completely full of diva-licious attitude. She barks at couch cushions when they refuse to play with her. Seriously, she's a diva.
She's also completely infatuated with my mom's 9-year-old Golden Retriever, Sandy. They both got baths this morning, and then (after a goodly amount of running around and rolling on Mom's good couch... oops!) they napped together in Sandy's crate. It wasn't Sandy's idea, but she's a very sweet (very harangued) dog and she doesn't seem to mind too much.
Sandy's saintliness probably comes from being harassed for a couple of years by the other two dogs of the house, 3-year-old Golden Doodle sisters, Abby and Macy. Then again, it may also just be the Tao of Golden Retrievers.
Abby and Macy are Cassie's half-sisters, and everybody in the house is at least part Golden Retriever. I think I probably inhaled so much fur during bath time this morning even I'M part Golden Retriever now. When Sandy is trying to hold her head up while the Doodles lick her face, I remind her she's the only one in the house with any real breeding. I think she looks a little proud at that notion. With my blend of Irish/Scottish/Welsh/English/Cherokee, I can't even say I'm as well-bred as Sandy. How sad is that?