The DU Lounge

His name was "Clipper" and my mom would put me in the playpen out in the yard in the summer and Clipper would guard me. One day, the mailman came up to the playpen to see the baby and Clipper bit him. The mailman was okay with it because he knew Clipper was just protecting me. But my parents decided to send Clipper to live on a farm in Argyle. Whether that was just a story or not, I don't know. My parents insisted even very late in their lives that the story was true and they even told me the name of the farmer and would point out the farm sometimes when we drove by it. The point of all this is that boxers and babies get along well in my experience.