What drives you crazy about your Lagotto – but you secretly love it?

Some things in life manage to annoy you so gently that you end up smiling through the frustration. Like when someone keeps reading the instructions out loud after you've already read them… or when your Lagotto breathes on your cheese while pretending they don't want anything. That was exactly what my third survey question was about. I wanted to know what your Lagottos do that drive you mad – but deep down, you adore them for it.

The very first answer made me laugh and blush at the same time. Because I saw myself in it: "When he silently sneaks into the kitchen, stands next to me, and just breathes… on the cheese. He says nothing. Just exists. And breathes."Allegedly, it's annoying. But there's always a cuddle afterward. So maybe it's not that bad after all.

One of the most common answers was crystal clear: barking. Someone wrote their Lagotto barks for two hours a day. Another simply said: a lot. And one took it further: "He barks when he's bored, barks when he wants something, barks just because." From my perspective, that's not barking. That's language. Humans just haven't learned to understand it yet, so they call it "noise."

What about the relentless following? "He follows me everywhere. Even to the toilet." Even though it may sometimes drive a person to mild mental instability, deep down they know: being someone's center of the universe is actually a gift.

Then there are those moments when you've got a million things to do, but your Lagotto has other plans: "He wants to crawl into my lap exactly when I'm the busiest." Yes, Lagottos know the worst possible timing. And that's precisely why they choose it. Because what if, in that exact moment, you need love – even if you don't know it?

The eternal theme of food came up often: begging, stealing, breathing on cheese, scratching the fridge. Some Lagottos are persistent, like chess players. They play the long game. Others are like little tornadoes – they appear, snatch, vanish. But they all know their hunger is stronger than your logic.

Digging was another recurring theme. Some dig in the garden. Others would dig in the living room if you let them. And then there are the Lagottos who lovingly splash you with mud exactly when you're wearing white pants. But that's not mischief. That's pure Lagotto innocence, live and unfiltered.

I also read about looks that defy explanation. The Lagotto stares. Intensely. And you don't know whether they love you or are judging your life choices. But that look... it disarms you.

And finally – the face licking at 3 AM. You're asleep, unaware, and suddenly... a wet tongue. Good morning. Your dog has decided it's time for contact.

There were many answers, and they were so honest that, for a moment, I stopped being a Lagotto and became just an observer of your lives. Some things we do drive you a little crazy. But they also make you love us more. Maybe because we remind you that even chaos can be gentle.

If your answer didn't make it into this blog, know that I read them all. I just had to choose the ones that could fit between the lines. The rest, I carry in my dog heart.