I know.   “Pringles” immediately makes you think of chips.    Or snacks.    Yeah, snacks.

Pringles, age 5

But in our house, Pringles means the dog.   Our stubborn, hair shedding, cuddly, fluffy,

DOG.    The picture to the left perfectly describes our “gentle” giant.    Complete with a sh*t eating grin ( no, really, she is a turd burglar), this dog is a gentle beast.     She is a champion of Pyr paws, a happy recipient of belly rubs, and a lazy sack of pyr-tatoes.    However, if you try to take her toy, or try to move her from where she has sat her fluffy-rump (or try to steal her piece of dust that she has claimed as hers),  then it is on like donkey-Kong.

Pringles.     Because you can’t stop at just one (rescue.   We have three!).