I met with a new client to sign papers to list his house this morning. As I entered the house I was met at the top of the stairs by what sounded like a sonic boom with teeth. There, telling me who was boss, was Sam, a 90 pound German Shepherd. I have a Shepherd at home, and, thankfully, Sam's dad told her I was OK, so my heart was in my throat for only a short time. We were fast friends, and she positioned herself near the table on her bed, hoping for a belly rub as I spoke with her people. I was happy to comply. I don't mind brushing fur off my blazer.
This is a dog I want on my side.