Fossman's good pal says: This dog is one crazy pooch. Fossman and I became friends in 2001 when a bodybuilder's mama Rott had puppies. Fossman scurried around and made nice with the ladies, displaying more personality and individuality than his subdued siblings. When I saw him getting particularly fresh with a lady-friend of mine, I knew he and I would be good buddies for some kind of long time. He likes to sleep a lot, preferably on or in the vicinity of people. He uses a pillow, too, when he can. He dreams a lot, yelping and kicking in his sleep. If you wake him in the midst of a dream, he'll toss you an unpleasant look. He likes to lay in the sun, even if it means catching the light through a window pane. Still, he likes the grass a good bit more. His facial expressions are many, and if you say something he finds odd, he'll cock his head in a such a way that says, "I don't get you, man." He eats his regular dog food, but doesn't care for it much. He prefers greenies, avocado, rice and (obviously) all human-type meat products. It'd be swell if he fetched, but he doesn't. He'll chase a ball, all right. But he'd just assume sit down and chew it once he has it in his jaws. It's important to note that he is faster than greased lightning on speed. I've seen Fossman out run a galloping Dane at clip of two to one, and if he could just stay focused, he'd fly past others, too. As it is, he can be easily distracted mid-stride by a flower, or that sun we talked about earlier. But he's a good pal ... can't say much for his loyalty, though. If you've got food or a scratch for him, he's your amigo, not mine, for that time being anyway. Like I said, he's one crazy pooch. We've had some pretty good days.