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Give me Heinz 57 any day

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012
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Grimsby Telegraph

COCKERPOOS, Labradoodles, Springadors and my personal favourite, JackaShitz...

The world of pedigree dogs continues to amaze me. Or, more to the point, breeders' names for the cross-breeds they have introduced.

It's a bit Frankenstein-ish if you ask me. Do these breeders sit and decide what kind of creature they can create, regardless of the consequences?

Or are the "new" breeds simply accidents resulting from our canine friends' instincts to mate with no regard for breed.

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I guess our doggy friends don't bother to check pedigree papers before doing what comes naturally.

Which is why they wouldn't be bothered to know that they are simply mongrels; that's what any Heinz 57 was known as in my day.

Whether of two breeds, or 57, or more, however mixed up the bloodline, that's what we called them.

And the pups don't care what they're known as. It's not like they're going to be applying for jobs.

All they want is to be cared for and loved. As long as they have a loving home, are fed and watered and exercised, your canine friend will always be there for you, loyal to the last.

Whatever his background, creed, colour or whatever, he is always pleased to see you, never moaning, never questioning your mood, always trusting and always giving.

Just like my lovely old boy, Robbie. His vaccination card describes him as a Labrador–Whippet cross.

I guess that makes him a Whiprador or Labrapet. Him Indoors calls our Rob a "Humberside Terrier" (a little dated I know but less long winded than calling him a "North East Lincolnshire Hound").

We have no idea of Rob dog's parentage, having taken him as an 11-month old "free-to-good-home" dog 12 years ago.

He's brought us nothing but joy, okay a few vet's bills but that's a small price to pay for his loyalty and companionship. So to hell with the labels.

We love our old pooch whatever he's made up of. Here's to the other 56 varieties of him that's out there somewhere!

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