Are You My Mother?

Today’s Workout:  Another 2.5 mile treadmill run (including 1/4 mile warm-up and cool-down walks each). I upped my speed to 4.5mph for the 2-mile run portion and nearly blew a gasket.  I think the dog was concerned based on how she bathed my beet-red face in dog-kisses while I *tried* to stretch out on the floor.  Doing so with a 60-pound galoot slobbering on you is a situation that Runner’s World never seems to cover in their editorials.  

Topic of the Day:  Speaking of the pooch, the Blonde Bomber and I have been trying to figure out the “mix” part of her “German Shepherd Dog mix” heritage since she joined our little family.  Our current guess is Doberman, based on her coloring (a lot of copper, especially in her legs), her nail color (pitch black!), and the structure of her back and legs (not sloped downward like a purebred Shepherd, but high and athletic).   I’ve also wondered if there might be hound in there somewhere, or Lab?  Who was this little girl’s real Mama?  Dad? Or Grandparents? 

What do you think?

The Bomber says she thinks I’m her Mama (well of COURSE I am – duh) with the way she has of just gazing at me.  She only seems to do this to me.  She will just lie there and stare at me forever.  Naturally, this usually results in me going over to give her all sorts of love and tummy rubs or decide an impromptu training session (with treats) is in order.  All of which may simply mean she has figured out EXACTLY which levers to press to have Mama do anything she wants.

I’m dying to know what breeds are in this pup and I was out surfing the interwebs this past weekend, Googling all sorts of posts on how to figure out your dog’s ancestry.  That’s when I stumbled across this:

Really?  DNA tests for dogs?!

Oh, I am so doing this.  And I am so NEVER going to live this down with the Bomber if I do.

I can see it now.  “Roxxxxxie … come here, pooch.  Mama has to swab your cheek …”

Somebody please tell me I am not the only crazy pet lady who would consider doing this?