Am/Can/UKC/Int'l CH Shaman's Rí
Caithreim O'Lore, Am/Can/UKC CD, WSX, HCTs, CGC
"CONOR"
Conor at 9 weeks old
Conor is simply put, a funny
little dog. He adores his mommy and would be surgically attached to my hip
if at all possible. He's a delight and a challenge to live with, full of
impish fun and and intelligence. Conor is a great show dog, thinking that
once he arrives at the show, the party can start. He's a multi- group
placing and group winning dog in the four conformation venues he's competed
in. But he's also a heck of an obedience dog and won several obedience
groups. Conor has also garnered a coveted an all-breed High in Trial
as well as a couple Specialty HIT's ! Who says Sammies can't compete in
obedience? You just have to know how to work with them!
Want to see some pictures of
Conor? Click here 8 
Yes, Conor oftentimes suffers
from the syndrome known as "Help! I'm barking and I can't shut up!"
Some words about Conor, written
in 2000...
Conor.
ConMan. CMan. BratChild.
Puppy Kid. Mr. Yappy.
You Little Shit. Evil Brat
Puppy From Hell. There are all names
that have been given to my most delightful yet utterly sneaky youngest boy.
He’s a brat who pushes one button or all buttons, depending on his
mood, but who will rush up for snuggles in the most endearing way, all at the
same time. At almost 3 years of age,
I am not seeing any signs of him changing. And
I’m glad, for this is what makes Conor, well, CONOR!
Life is a party and he’s the main event, as far as Conor is concerned.
He’s always been this way -- constantly happy and jovial, perpetually
smiling at life. How could you not
love that? Of course, he annoys the
crap out of his brothers, delighting in tormenting them.
His favorite game is to play keep away with ALL the toys, all at once,
and if his bruzzers (or Mama) won’t play, he barks incessantly until we
relent. Or until Pete decides enough
is enough, and basically creams him, which is Conor’s second favorite game.
I call that one “Kill Conor.” All
his doggy friends delight in this game, since it pretty much consists of rolling
Conor on the ground and chewing on various body parts and making lots of
horrific noises. Try and break up
this grand game, thinking you are doing “poor little Conor” a favor, and
you’ll see a rather grubby white dog jump up and demand that the other dogs
“do it again!” After all, if he
really didn’t want to be beat up, he could run circles around almost all of
his friends and he certainly beats the pants off his bruzzers in the tag
department!
I’m really glad Conor is such a ‘little’ dog.
At just under 55 pounds, launching himself at me when he wants to snuggle
is a tad risky. For me, not for him.
I’ve had the wind knocked out of me more than a few times with a very
loud “WHUFF” generally followed by a “get off my face” statement.
If he were to weigh much more, I’m afraid I might just suffocate from
his affections, not to mention internal injuries.
ConMan is the consummate Samoyed, with his joyfully sneaky intelligence.
He’s taught Nicky what it means to be a Sam.
He’s taught Pete that he ISN’T a Samoyed (and Pete is quite glad of
that fact). He’s shown me how much
fun it is to be owned by a white dog, even if the outside color of the dog tends
more to the beige or gray side!
