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He's already shown himself to be a clown with my older dog, a Pitador named Ulysses. I got my recently deceased dog, Brother, when he was about 3. He was a wonderfully loving, sweet dog who'd been horribly abused to the point of having the play petty much beaten out of him. Ulysses was and is a hyper confident, super friendly play machine. Brother never wanted to join in fun, so Ulysses didn't have a real playmate.

All that changed when Canute, the Dane, arrived. Now they spend about an hour a day wrestling with each other, barking, nipping, and fake growling as though they're about to kill each other. Somehow, however, there's never any damage or blood.

Canute's favorite move is his variation of the classical WWE move when one “contestant” runs back and forth across the ring, bouncing off the ropes, and then collides with his “opponent,” knocking the “opponent” down. Canute's variation is he jumps off a couch on one side of the room, dashes Ave to a chair on the other side, bounces off it, and then smacks into Ulysses.

I know, it's disgraceful puppy pandemonium, but it's so funny, I don't want to stop it.