I get a lot of comments about him being a German Shepherd dog.
Nope. He's not. Both of his parents aren't even German Shepherds.
I don't think I began wanting Teddy. I didn't hate him per se nor disliked him in any way. I guess, I just didn't want another dog -- that time, two dogs were living at home.
He was one of the five puppies meant to be given away, and out of the five, he was the thinnest and -- seemingly -- the weakest. Soon, three puppies had found their new home. And together with his fat sibling, he was left.
I then learned that Teddy and his sibling already had designated owners, which was good. But until I realized that he was going to someone whose ability to provide food for and take care of a dog is questionable, I knew I had to have him.
As of this writing, he's now a few days past his second year here. So far, keeping him is one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Oh, I named him Teddy after Ted Mosby, the character from How I Met Your Mother.
