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Oh, and about the *pet rock comment above. She’s a heart breaker, a tiny terrier mix we rescued from a high kill shelter in southern California late ’14. The shelter estimated her to be five months old, however, our vet examined her teeth and put her at nine months at the time, in other words, full grown. She’s got much of the terrier traits, including stubbornness like her older step-brother, a true Cairn but unlike Max, we’ve come to learn she’s got brains the size of a walnut. During an outing, like clockwork, someone cooed over her. I laughed and said, yeah, she’s cute, but man she is as dumb as a rock. A few weeks later my husband returned from the dog park, referring to her as Pet Rock. It stuck. Well isn’t that just special?