In going through family pictures, I'm running across a number similarities with my life today.
I appears there was an earlier version of the Psychopoodle.
This is Pierre, a purebred minature poodle that my dad was given, back in November 1968. A kennel in Fresno had taken him back after finding him left by his owners all day, locked in their apartment's bathroom. I recall my dad being astounded that people would pay that kind of money for a purebred dog and do that. He was never a well-adjusted dog. He was never neutered, never bred and pissed on as much as he could. The name Pierre should have been changed. PeeEverywhere. But, he was devoted to my dad and was never dressed up as a poodle. He looked like a starved black sheep most of his life. He was about the same weight and height as the current Psychopoodle. He lived to be 18 and died in my dad's arms of old age, after a lifetime of hoarding my dad's socks and boxer shorts under my parents' bed.
So, little did I know, Pierre has been reindognated into the current Psychopoodle. I just wonder if my mom was as annoyed by the first Psychopoodle as I am by the current Psychopoodle. I guess I may have to now call him Psychopoodle Junior.