CadburyEgg

Although he has had a DNA test (results below) Cadbury Egg is a one part love, two parts floppy tongue, and a generous sprinkle of clumsiness. <br/><br/>Egg, as he is lovingly known, runs toward affection, balls, snacks, and absolutely nothing at all with the same chaotic conviction. He’s soft, sweet, and slightly unhinged, like if a marshmallow came to life and immediately forgot what it was doing. His ears operate on different frequencies, his tongue doesn’t fit in his mouth, and his legs are overcooked pasta held together with blind optimism. He looks like someone had tried to assemble a dog using vague childhood memories, two pieces of leftover felt, and a melting Peep. <br/><br/>Egg sleeps peacefully all night, but when he’s ready to start the day, he gently places his head on your slumbering head. Which sounds sweet, until you remember that his perpetually-exposed tongue is now slapping you in the face. It’s a loving, damp paperweight. You will be wet. Welcome to your morning Egg. He is crate trained, potty trained (mostly), fully vetted, and unbothered by your rules unless they interfere with tennis ball time.<br/><br/>Things Egg loves: <br/>Tennis balls.<br/>You. Instantly. Without question.<br/>Food.<br/>Tennis balls.<br/>Treats.<br/>Tennis balls (again, just making sure you got that).<br/><br/>Things Egg hates:<br/>Thunderstorms.<br/>When you stop petting him.<br/>Your work Zoom meetings (but honestly, same).<br/><br/>Egg is a creature of unrelenting attachment and questionable boundaries. Also known as a “velcro dog,” Egg must be touching you at all times. Sitting? He’s in your lap. Standing? He’s between your legs. Lying down? He’s on your head. Wherever you go, Egg goes too: Into the bathroom. Into your closet. Into your heart. You are no longer your own person. You are his emotional support cushion, even if it means never peeing alone again. <br/><br/>He's a mixed breed with 43% Pittie, 23% Husky, 16% Great Pyrenees, 9% German Shephard, 8% Chow. <br/><br/>He’s ready to be the best decision you’ve ever made, wrapped in fur and shaped like a slightly confused burrito with too many feelings. Adopt him now before he licks someone else into emotional submission.<br/><br/>Egg is a loyal Astros fan and insists that he is available only for local adoption only in the Greater Houston TX area.

Although he has had a DNA test (results below) Cadbury Egg is a one part love, two parts floppy tongue, and a generous sprinkle of clumsiness.

Egg, as he is lovingly known, runs toward affection, balls, snacks, and absolutely nothing at all with the same chaotic conviction. He’s soft, sweet, and slightly unhinged, like if a marshmallow came to life and immediately forgot what it was doing. His ears operate on different frequencies, his tongue doesn’t fit in his mouth, and his legs are overcooked pasta held together with blind optimism. He looks like someone had tried to assemble a dog using vague childhood memories, two pieces of leftover felt, and a melting Peep.

Egg sleeps peacefully all night, but when he’s ready to start the day, he gently places his head on your slumbering head. Which sounds sweet, until you remember that his perpetually-exposed tongue is now slapping you in the face. It’s a loving, damp paperweight. You will be wet. Welcome to your morning Egg. He is crate trained, potty traine

Although he has had a DNA test (results below) Cadbury Egg is a one part love, two parts floppy tongue, and a generous sprinkle of clumsiness.

Egg, as he is lovingly known, runs toward affection, balls, snacks, and absolutely nothing at all with the same chaotic conviction. He’s soft, sweet, and slightly unhinged, like if a marshmallow came to life and immediately forgot what it was doing. His ears operate on different frequencies, his tongue doesn’t fit in his mouth, and his legs are overcooked pasta held together with blind optimism. He looks like someone had tried to assemble a dog using vague childhood memories, two pieces of leftover felt, and a melting Peep.

Egg sleeps peacefully all night, but when he’s ready to start the day, he gently places his head on your slumbering head. Which sounds sweet, until you remember that his perpetually-exposed tongue is now slapping you in the face. It’s a loving, damp paperweight. You will be wet. Welcome to your morning Egg. He is crate trained, potty trained (mostly), fully vetted, and unbothered by your rules unless they interfere with tennis ball time.

Things Egg loves:
Tennis balls.
You. Instantly. Without question.
Food.
Tennis balls.
Treats.
Tennis balls (again, just making sure you got that).

Things Egg hates:
Thunderstorms.
When you stop petting him.
Your work Zoom meetings (but honestl