My dog gets mistaken for a lot of different breeds, despite being, well, a glorified mutt. I encountered this the first time I did a training walk with major traffic crossings at GDF (I think it was in Patchogue or San Rimo or something). I was standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change, hoping this dog at my side would help me get across the street without becoming road pizza. I’d probably had about three minutes of sleep, and it was in the 90s out. It was bright out, and I hate sunlight. That’s when some lady came up behind me and asked in my ear, “Is that a Spinone?”
“A what?” I said blearily? Because I’d kind of thought that was some kind of Italian dessert.
No, apparently it’s some kind of Italian dog. With a beard. Which Ms. Pup has, so of course she must be one. Except she’s not.
Nor is she: an Airedale, an Irish wolfhound, a giant Schnauzer, a giant Scottie (God forbid!), a Bouvier, or a Portuguese water dog (although Portie owners always know what she is, because they get asked if their dog is a labradoodle). She contains no terrier whatsoever. Her father was a standard poodle, not one of the little meringue-looking things, so don’t give me that funny look when I tell you what she is. And no, that was not, “some party her parents must have met at!” It was an arranged marriage, so to speak. In fact, I think the matchmaker just pledged (thanks!).
So yes. Half lab. Half poodle. And half Muppet.