People see my face and think I'm tough. And okay, sure. I do look like I could front a biker gang made entirely of puppies. But the truth? I'm basically a marshmallow with muscles. I'm Huckleberry. Three months old. Boxer-pittie mix. Tough-looking little sweetheart. I like to wrestle. I like to tumble around with the other puppies. I puff myself up like I'm very intimidating. Then five minutes later, I'm melting into cuddles and looking at people with my soft baby eyes. My foster family says I've got this funny mix of " don't mess with me and please hold me. Pretty accurate, honestly. My mom Maggie survived long enough for rescuers to find her before she had all nine of us puppies. Because of that, I got a chance at a real puppyhood. One with toys and couches and people who kiss my forehead instead of walking past me. Im good with kids. Good with dogs. Strong little guy with a very sweet heart. Basically the emotional support linebacker of the litter.