Yesterday was Dax's second birthday. She very happily destroyed her birthday toy. She is offended by both squeakers and stuffing and must immediately do away with both in any new toy. She stands on the toy, and with bulldogged determination (so to speak), pulls and shreds until the offending bits are removed. After her modifications are complete, she shares with us and plays fetch and tug.
From the day I brought Dax home, I took her everywhere I could. I was amazed by two things: the number of people who were terrified of her and the equal number who exclaimed "oh, I love French Bulldogs!"
The fear I understand more than the adoration. Her snortifying can be construed as growling if you're completely unfamiliar with animal sounds. But the people who adore Frenchies and don't have one - why not? My excuse for not having a Frenchie before Dax was I didn't know about them. Now I do and I'll never be without. Happy 2nd birthday, baby!
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