87 days ago (last Thursday) Mom sent my spit through the mail to find out what breeds I am. Why is it taking so long? If I could remember my Dog Mom (my Dad was long gone when I was born) I could have told her that I am a Good Breed Dog. But I can’t and everyone at church wants know what “what I am,” so there you go. Or there my spit goes.
Here are pictures of me from many different angles.
Mom and Dad wrote down what they think the breed mix result is going to be. They’ve hidden them until we find out, and then they’ll see who guessed right, or at least the closest. Do you want to play?
Xena: The first right guesser will get an all-expense-paid…
Lucy: …thank you and recognition on our blog. (I told you Xena, we’re not giving away trips, unless you want to pay for it with your food money.)
I hope we’ll still be friends no matter what breed(s) I am. Knowing sure won’t make me any different, that’s for sure. (I’ll still be the dog most loved by Pastor!)
Your pal, Lucy
Xena Schnauzer Warrior Princess with Lucy and Chia 