Late one night in January last year the kids came running in the front door thrilled with a fuzzy new find. Percy was an abandoned, dirty, matted and very hungry 2 month old puppy of indeterminate breed.  We tried all the usual channels but, no one ever claimed him. Puppies, it turns out, are a bit of work. We (read that as: the grownups in the house) were thrown into a cycle of late night runs for the backyard and endless rainy walks saying (on the advice of a well-respected puppy trainer) “Do it, Percy, Do it” to train him to defecate on command.  As if. I started searching for recipes that would separate the meat from all that hair. No luck. It has since then been pointed out to me that I did not actually have to keep the critter that perhaps, I should have told my three beaming children “No”. Right. You try.

Everyone likes to give us their theories about  what exactly, he is. Portuguese water dog? Something-a-doodle? Bijon frise? The cat thinks he is a cat. He thinks he is …comfortable here.

©