Twenty years ago I was bound and determined to get a dog. My friends had dogs; I had a dog from the day I was born until the day good old Tippy Uzzie Kent ("Uzzie a good dog?") died, too soon for my brother Rob and me, at the age of 13; now, at 36 years old, with a vast experience with dogs, I knew I was a dog person.
So, I visited my brother Fred and told him my plan, then asked, "So what kind of dog should I get?" Fred answered, deadpan, "Stuffed."
When my neighbor Barbara Bartash heard of Fred's suggestion, she came down the next day with Bradford. You see, at the time Barbara and her husband John owned five dogs. They were dog people.
This morning, I introduced Bailey to Bradford. Bailey was tentative at first, but then, with Bradford's warmth, charm, and welcoming demeanor, Bailey warmed up to him.