My teeny little "pocket beagle" George...whether they really exist or are inter-bred with Jack Russell's, or are the runt of the litters... or as one person stopped me to say "that he comes from a good line of beagles they breed in Ireland....." It's never been an issue with me. All I saw was this tiny little beaglette who was very observant, would sit and people watch with a question mark on his face trying to make sense of his reality sitting behind a glass window in a petstore. Polite, gentle, calm (unless he's in tough guy mode), intuitive , completely opposite of his big sister Crazy Daizy the party girl beagle.
He is one huggable, smotherable in kisses teeny beagle boy.
I often wish he could tell me what he is thinking. Why does he feel it is his duty to teach young teenage pups manners? What's with appointing himself as the neighborhood blockwatch when he could live a life of ZEN, r-e-l-x-a-t-i-o-n and join in more often when I yoga-out (he bows when I do yoga and tries to squiggle around on the mat, very sweet). His mini impression of John Wayne / Clint Eastwood swagger...what is up with that? Doesn't he know he's only little? He doesn't have to act cool, he's already cute!
We've come so far, from George doing victory laps - playing catch me if you can in puppy class when all the pups had returned to their owners for treats and cuddles, to victory laps around agility trial course BEFORE he hits the first jump.......now my little George surprises me by being the perfect little angel in class when we're demo'n polite leash manners, meet and greets.
Today we spent the afternoon snuggled in close (actually he always positions himself partly on my stomach so we can feel the rhythm of each other breathing) while I worked from home on my laptop and sniffled and coughed from my cold. He would not leave my side, not even to bark at the cat chasing a butterfly on our lawn, how amazing is that!