Practicing SittingThe next day at Cheesman Park I was discovered. I went for a rare walk around the park without Arrow (who was driving my owner mom crazy because he likes to play on leashes now—a very tangled mess). This man pulled over in a big car. He asked what kind of dog I was. We told him I was a mutt from the rescue C.A.R.E. (If you look under Success Stories you will see me a.k.a. Tony in 2006 and Arrow in 2007!)
The man came over and measured my nose and my head and stretched out my tail and declared that I was not a mutt (I always liked being a mystery mutt), but a Havanese. He breeds them and shows them. He told stories about little Havanese puppies coming from Spain to Cuba. He thought I had some Euro- pee-on ancestors because of my shape. He liked my tail and my nose and declared me a Chocolate Havanese (sounds delicious).
Then he played this Price is Right game making my owner mom guess how much it would have cost to buy me. Higher. Higher. Higher. I left home a worthless mutt and returned from the park a Chocolate Havanese.