When I adopted my dog, Regan, six months ago, I made a few promises to myself. First, I would never skimp on her exercise. Second, I would never feed her from the table or allow groveling in its vicinity. Third, I would never get lazy and use her as column fodder.
She’s 5-1/2 years old, about 48 pounds and mostly black, but with blazes of white in all the right places: her paws, her chest, the tip of her tail. “Border collie?” ask people who know the breed, but a DNA test said different. She’s mostly Australian shepherd and Siberian husky.