My wife and I are briefly hosting our younger daughter's dog for a little while. His name is Neville and he's mostly Pit Bull and Boxer. He is sweet and friendly and strong. And cute. He weighs seventy-five pounds. Our Odie, who is mostly Pit Bull, Staffordshire Bull Terrier, and American Bulldog weighs eighty pounds. He is also cute and strong. Both dogs are about eighteen months old. When they play indoors, furniture gets rearranged or tipped over, walls are slammed into, and art falls from the walls. It's like a collision of boulders. And it's all in fun.
Reminds me of a family in my home town that had six sons. All monster athletes. When they got to roughhousing, walls were caved in, windows broken, and furniture smashed to kindling. Damage was covered up with athletic awards, certificates, varsity letters, and other evidence of their achievements on the fields and courts. Neville and Odie would have fit in with that family.
