A little over a year ago, I moved to Pittsburgh with my fiancee and 10-week-old Jack Russell Terrier, Skyler. I rode in a Penske Truck for a little over 14 hours with a fur ball the size of a softball in my lap.
He's much larger now — people ask if he's part Greyhound or Dalmatian — but throughout all of his puppy stages, doggie schools and day camps, the constant has been his rule of the house.
He's made me pull at my hair and scream at all the ear phones, door stops, prescription glasses and DVDs he's eaten, but I have absolutely no clue what I would do without him.