Behind Blue Eyes

When we brought Taren home he was a sweet, blue eyed bundle, of Weimer joy. Just like most puppies I would guess. He would eat, sleep, play, and routinely trot you down the stairs for potty breaks. Time passed and he morphed out of the very young puppy stage into the- Holy Crap! There goes the furniture stage. The- We need a new garbage can, with a lock, phase. Followed by the- Quit eating the ever loving bark, rocks, sticks, and everything that was not nailed down stage. Somewhere along this line we were fairly convinced we had brought home a really goofy, ten year old boy, with a bad case of hyperactivity. One that could not quite grasp the meaning of no, down, off, or for the love of doG not those shoes! He was much more kid than dog. Every once in a while you would capture a photo, and there it would be. This glint of boyish charm, and something in the eyes that made you think he had pulled off something grand.