In my foster home, I have played ball or with toys as much as they have desired, and I have been the goofball in the center. But I have required they build in some sweetness breaks. I need my hugs & kisses, too, you see! What my foster family has observed is my love language of cuddles and skritches! They say I love being petted and want lots of snuggles. My foster parents have never known a dog who wants to cuddle as much as I do. Isn’t that distinction cool? Give me that trophy any day!
More observations in my foster home are I’m always happy, always smiling, always have never-ceasing energy. They believe I’m a good neighborhood barbecue dog. Well, I am a Siberian. So there must be adequate fencing! But what makes me good for neighborhood parties it is believed is the love I will have for all of the people. And my foster parents think I would also enjoy a good game of badminton or volleyball! Life of the party. That would be me, they say!
If my foster parents sit on the floor, I will come straight over and sit on their laps. I mean, wasn’t it an invitation? Even when I do zoomies around the yard at my foster home, I will do 2-3 laps, then run into any human standing by and rub against them, waiting to be pet, then flip over for belly rubs, then resume my zoomie quest, rinse, and repeat.
They say I 100% act like a puppy. I am curious about everything and want to be involved in everything going on, preferably as that center goofball. They also warn I do love getting into trouble. In my foster home, I’ve mastered things like stealing a pen off the table, jumping on all of the furniture, investigating dishes on the kitchen counter, unrolling rolls of toilet paper, stealing sunglasses from an open bag left on the floor and playing Keep Away with them, waking up early in the morning and deciding that everyone else needs to get up, too. See how much money you’ll save on alarm clock electricity? Well, there’s a good reason to adopt me. I’ll save you money!
All that said, let’s talk about my occupation. So my foster parents have learned I will jump into any open car, expecting a ride. Therefore, one could assume perhaps I’m studying to be an Uber driver. There’s just that one pesky detail, that I have to have a driver’s license. Ever try to convince the DMV a dog should take an oral driving exam and pay the fee in Milk Bones?
My coloring is not something you see every day. Here are some Siberians with my same coloring on the husky colors website: https://huskycolors.com/agouti.html