My name is Bagel!

Bagel may be only a year-and-a-half old, but she’s the canine equivalent of a double-espresso shot mixed with a freight train—an energetic, muscle-bound “lady” who could probably bench-press a chew toy while simultaneously herding a pack of bewildered squirrels. She’s a social butterfly on four paws, getting along with every dog from the dainty poodle in the park to the hulking mastiff who thinks “personal space” is a myth, and she’ll invite anyone to a game of chase that lasts until the sun sets and the squirrels file a formal complaint. The only thing that can keep this tornado-wrapped furball from turning the neighborhood into a live-action cartoon is a sturdy leash—preferably one that’s been tested on a tug-of-war champion—because without it, Bagel’s “let’s-run-everywhere-like-there’s-no-tomorrow” policy quickly escalates into a full-blown canine demolition derby.