This is me, Duke, at six months old. I'm a Rottie/Shepherd mix. Mom thinks I'm too friendly to be a part shepherd — she swears I'm part Lab. I was Mom and Dad's first "baby." I was their housewarming present; they got me on the same day that they closed on our house.

June 1995

The other day, my first dad sat down with me and explained that he had to give me away because his landlord wouldn't let him keep me, 'cause I'm part Rottie. I tried to explain to him that I would be a really good Rottie and everything, but he said "No, I'm giving you to people who will have a great big house for you to live in and a great big yard for you to play in. You'll see, you'll have a grand time with your new folks. Your mom and I love you very much and want to give you the best home available." Then he left me with my new mom and dad. I am so heartbroken... -- Duke

July 1995

Today I'm writing to you from my new home. It's great big 13-room house with a really, really big yard, a big change from the little five-room house I was living in. My new folks are really nice...They let me stay in the bedroom with them and don't lock me in the basement like my other folks did. I heard them mutter something about "housebreaking" me and that "it was a shame" that my other folks didn't already do that since I'm four-months old already. Whatever that means. — Duke

August 1995

I think my mom is going crazy. She's running around the house singing, "He's finally housebroken, yeah!" over and over again! What the heck is the matter with her? It all started this morning when I woke up, around 4 a.m. and I really needed to pee, so I woke mom up with a kiss...and when she asked me if I "needed to go outside?" — I told her yes, so she jumped out of bed and took me for a walk. When I was finished she kept saying, "You are such a smart boy!" (of course I am...) and gave me lots of kisses. Now she's singing "he's housebroken" (what does that mean?) — Duke

September 1995

I was a bad boy today. Mom's really mad at me. She won't even look at me. I chewed up one of her vacuum attachments. It wasn't my fault! It was just laying there in the spare room. Just because I knocked down a gate to get into that room to explore doesn't mean it's MY fault! She shouldn't have just left it lying there like that...and letting it tempt me...it kept calling my name..."Duke. Duke, I'm right here. Come chew me!" It's not my fault I tell you. Gotta go and make sad puppy-dog eyes at Mom until she forgives me. — Duke

October 1995

My mom took me to the vet's and LEFT ME THERE. When I woke up, I felt really different...like a part of me was missing...and I'm really sore. What did they do to me?! Do you think she was getting back at me for chewing her vacuum attachment?

December 1995

I'm in love! Mom and dad brought home a beautiful shepherd-mix to be my girl. Her name is Rebel. She is soooo beautiful and such a little lady. And she loves me!! It was love at first sight, and we both knew it. As soon as she saw me and I saw her, we ran towards each other to give each other big, slobbery kisses. I couldn't keep my paws off her (of course, I had to be gentle, because she had stitches from her surgery) and couldn't snuggle with me enough. This is heaven! — Duke

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Still Rock'n'Roll to Me
Billy Joel
(working on getting lyrics)

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