This is me when I was 9 weeks old. Cute eh? I was plucked from the breeder by my new owners Deb and Doug who chose me over my also very cute sisters. We are Parson Russell Terriers- highly independent thinkers with definite ideas about how things should run.
I’m a lot older than this picture now, and I’ve had many adventures I hope to share with you.
My name is Riley and even that is a story. The chalkboard at my cottage was filled with possible names for me. Even visitors wrote down their favorites. There were so many kinds of names to choose from. Silly names like Trout and Taxi ( Deb wanted that one because she thought it would be fun to yell ” taxi” when we went to the park). More serious names like Scout and Tripper were in the running as well. But I remember the naming day very clearly. I was lying on my back with 4 in the air. That was my signature cute move when I was a baby. Those giant paws on my teeny body were irresistible. One day, a neighbour had come over to admire me in all my puppy newness. She took one look at the chalkboard list of names then said “Oh for heaven’s sake, he’s clearly got it made here and will live the life of Riley, so just call him Riley” and that, as they say, was that. Riley, and the Life of Riley began that day.