Daily Dabble: Brittany or Bust: How My Bird Dog Became My Therapist, Alarm Clock, and Spirit Animal

Listen. Some people have a cat that ignores them unless it's hungry. Others have a golden retriever that sheds like a possessed loofah. Me? I’ve got a Brittany Spaniel named Kushie—a caffeine-free tornado of nose, fur, and soul-healing chaos who believes God put birds on Earth just to mess with her personally.

And I’d take a bullet for her.

🐾 Meet Kushie: The Ginger Rocket With ADHD and a Heart of Gold

She’s a Brittany—not a spaniel, technically (don’t let the name fool you, it’s a long story involving the French, birds, and probably wine). Picture a hunting dog, shrink it a bit, crank its energy level to "meth squirrel," and add a permanent expression that says, “You wanna do something? No? TOO LATE I’M DOING IT ANYWAY.”

That’s Kushie.

She’s got freckles, an Olympic-level sniffer, and a tail so short it might as well be a punctuation mark. She doesn't wag it—she vibrates. Like a meatball on a jackhammer.

🎯 Breed Breakdown: The Brittany (Don’t Call Me a Spaniel)

• Origin: France. Oui, monsieur. She’s basically an espresso shot with paws.
• Purpose: Bird hunting, field trials, and making your slippers disappear.
• Size: Medium—unless she’s on your lap, then she’s a Great Dane.
• Energy: Think Tony Hawk on Red Bull.
• Intelligence: High. Like, figure-out-how-to-unlock-the-door high.
• Needs: Exercise, mental stimulation, and exactly 23 hugs per hour.
• Weaknesses: Squirrels, phantom smells, thunder, and the UPS guy’s soul.

🦴 Life With a Brittany: Like Having a Roommate on Mushrooms (In a Good Way)

Kushie doesn’t just wake up. She erupts from sleep like she’s been waiting her whole life for that exact moment to exist. One minute she’s snoring with her feet in the air, the next she’s full throttle toward the door, convinced there’s a goose outside selling drugs.

And if I don’t follow her? She circles back, stands in the doorway with one paw up like “Sir. I have clocked a suspicious squirrel at 7 o’clock. This is not a drill.”

Walks aren’t optional. They’re sacred. And if we don’t go, she’ll invent her own cardio routine: leaping over furniture, chasing ghosts, barking at walls until I feel haunted. She once ran full-speed into a sliding glass door because a robin winked at her.

💨 Bird Dog Blues: The Feather Obsession Is Real

Here’s how obsessed Brittanys are with birds: Kushie doesn’t even need to see them. She’ll point at a sound. One time she froze like a statue for five minutes, nose twitching, because a pigeon farted two zip codes away.

Field-bred Britts like her live for it. If reincarnation’s real, Kushie was a falcon in her past life. Or maybe a mall cop in charge of the aviary.

She’s taught me a new type of patience. The kind where you stand completely still in your backyard for twenty minutes while your dog maintains eye contact with a leaf. Just in case.

👯‍♂️ Man’s Best Bud: The Ultimate Stoner Companion (Even Sober)

Here’s the truth, though: Kushie doesn’t smoke weed. (Obviously. She’s classy.) But if she did? She’d be the kind of high where you get lost staring at a spoon and cry because it reminds you of your grandma. Emotional, loyal, unexpectedly deep.

She’s the ultimate couch cuddle partner, foot warmer, and judgment-free therapist. She’s seen me cry into burritos. She’s watched me try and fail at yoga. She even licked my face during a panic attack once and farted, which somehow helped more than my therapist.

Also, she always knows when I’m high. She just stares at me like, “You’re gonna eat that much cheese and NOT give me any?”

🧼 Grooming & Chaos: A Beautiful Mess

Bathing her is like trying to shampoo a raccoon. She doesn’t hate water—she just thinks it’s her job to defeat it. Brushing her is easier, as long as I don’t mind being groomed back. (She insists on licking my kneecaps like she’s prepping me for surgery.)

She gets the zoomies at least twice a day. Once in the morning, once at night. And if we’re late for the second round, she’ll remind me by doing laps on the bed until I submit.

And God help me if I leave socks on the floor.

🐕‍🦺 The Loyalty is Unreal

There’s something about a Brittany’s eyes. Kushie looks at me like she remembers who I was in a past life. Like she’s not just here to chase ducks—she’s here to make sure I’m okay. She senses bad moods. She protects my vibe. She is, without question, the best wingdog I’ve ever known.

And when I’m at my lowest? She’ll curl up next to me, sigh like a tiny horse, and just be there. No judgment. No pity. Just full presence.

Sometimes, she even snores in sync with me. Soulmate stuff.

📝 Stoner’s Checklist: Bird Dog Edition

(Even if You’re Stone Cold Sober)
✅ Fetch master-level tennis ball precision
✅ Will detect the sound of a finch farting from 400 yards
✅ Snuggle rating: 11/10
✅ Hair on everything you own
✅ Squirrel Security Systems, 24/7 coverage
✅ Thinks you’re God
✅ Could probably outsmart you if she had thumbs
✅ That one paw gently on your leg when you’re sad? Yeah. That’s love.
✅ Will lick your tears. Then lick the couch. Then fart.

If you’re thinking of getting a Brittany—don’t. Unless you want to fall madly in love with a freckled fur missile who will rearrange your priorities, dig up your lawn, lick your face, and fix your broken parts one tail wag at a time.

Kushie isn’t just my dog.
She’s my best bud.
My co-pilot.
My feather-chasing ride-or-die.

And if she ever learned how to roll a joint, I’d give her the blog.