I haven’t 23andMe’d her, but my hyper-reactive dog Gypsy is most likely a Chi-Terrier-Dachshund mix that I rescued from a shelter in southern Ohio, who, according to shelter staff was a “lifer”. They were visibly astonished when I picked her out of the available dogs. One said, “Interesting choice,” which should have been a red flag that I obviously ignored. She attached herself to me instantly and fiercely (god help anyone who tries to get too close). To me, she is nothing but tail-wagging, butt-wiggling, face-licking, snuggling affection, but to everyone else, she’s like a buzz saw aimed for the ankles. She barks and growls, but not incessantly, although it took a while to get her to stop lunging and jumping in front of the telly every time an animal appeared on the screen. A dog behaviorist I took her to concluded that she must have missed every window of socialization. Or that she was a product of backyard breeding. Or she was displaying breed-specific traits. Or possibly all the above. She’s curled up behind me on my swivel chair, the size and shape of one of those travel neck pillows as she does every day when I’m at the computer. I’m totally in love with her, even if she is a bit mental.
