I grew up with dogs. We always, always had a dog.

Once we had a cat and I hugged him too hard and he scratched me, so he…went somewhere. Not sure where.

But mostly, the dogs. My parents had a golden retriever named Missy when I was small, and truthfully? That dog has been the standard to which every dog I’ve ever met has been held.

I loved her. I still remember the day she died, how I was broken and sad and very confused. I was eight.

I never expected to have a dog as great as Missy. There have been close contenders, but none really fit.

Except now we have this dog.

His name is Rocky and every dog should be born just like him – trained and sassy and asskicking awesome.

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