West Highland White

As pure as New York snow, he’s …. got a terrible habit of finding the only mud in the park and running back and forth through it.
Once he’s managed that, he’s free to tear around like a mad thing with his mates and bark bark bark at us.
“Throw the ball”, “throw the ball”, “throw the ball”. We throw it. Someone else chases it.
“Throw it again”, “throw it again”, “throw it again”.
Enough of that, time for Mr Two-Tone to go home. His understanding mum leaves a towel out for us, even through the drought. She knows. And, if he wants to be her baby, it don’t matter if he’s black or white …