I am pretty sure the day we picked the biggest pup in the litter - the most independent one, the one that had an ‘air’ about him, the one that was not snuggly - the one that escaped and took off on an adventure all on his own four paws - I knew we had a future soaked in mud.

I wasn’t wrong.

While we are still working on the art that is Life As A Picture Dog, a very scholarly pursuit - we also have begun to collect a series of anecdotes - Field Notes from a HemiDog, if you will;

• water will eat you.

• when your stick escapes, one must cling tightly to rocks in order to lean precariously over the deep end, while staring longingly at your lost stick

• white paws are not a thing

• the thunk of a ball thrown far is the sound of joy

• the only way to truly play is to throw oneself headlong into every bush, kitchen cupboard, mud puddle, tree, path, long grass, dirt, leaves… and then roll on it

• to fully experience a new thing, one must put it in ones mouth and then excitedly shove it in your humans face - as they must also know about this new thing

• only decorate in grass stains

• bikes probably taste real good

• cars probably taste even better

• small, running, shrieking children probably taste the best

Oh - and lastly, the joy of mud must be shared, because well, life is definitively more fun when you get your paws dirty..