My Curious Friend

In April 2001 I got a little wiggly ball of black fur that would grow to become my faithful pal.  Betsy is a Labrador--Queensland Heeler mix who looks and acts like a lab most of the time.  She is a curious dog, and I mean that in several ways.

When she was little she would climb like a cat.  I came home from work one day and couldn't find her, after an hour of searching, I heard a little woof, and there she was stretching-- just waking from a nap on the ironing board in the laundry room.  She would climb over any doggy gate, so finally I just let her roam, but she was well mannered and never had accidents in the house.  During the day she would nap in her crate, but when awake had to be where the action was always investigating--the noise outside, the cricket hopping across the floor, or what I was doing.

She has a favorite toy, a green bumpy football. She takes it everywhere with her. At the foot of my bed where she sleeps at night, outside when she plays, and close at hand when she is guarding the house.
 
She does have Heeler traits.  She is a good herd dog, although in the city her subjects are limited, but she is a resourceful animal.  Like the time I was reading in the living room when all of a sudden there was a terrible racket--squacking and barking.  Then into the room flew a chicken with Betsy close behind, herding it toward her special spot.  I screamed like a girl, covering my head under a blanket.  In the bedlam, the bird hid behind a chair, and Betsy laid down watching it with tail wagging--I suspect she thought she found a friend.  After mustering up enough courage, I got a broom and chased the chicken outside.  Betsy looked all over trying to find her friend.  Every time she heard it crowing on the other side of the block wall, she would run to the wall with tail wagging, encouraging it to come and play.
 
Maybe when I retire I will get her another friend---ummm, maybe not.