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Question of the day: What is your favorite breed of dog?

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Writers from around the Tribune Co. weigh in on the topic. Check back throughout the day for more responses and feel free to leave a comment of your own.

Gary R. Blockus, The Morning Call

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The tongue-wagging enthusiastic personality of English springer spaniels is pure entertainment each time they bounce on all fours over 3-foot-high switch grass in search of pheasants -- or carelessly perform Michael Jordan jumps while playing fetch. In the home, on a walk or upland hunt, there is no better pal. We’re on our third and fourth with Emma and Spencer. Their high-motor enthusiasm is infectious, and in repose, they melt into your lap or the floor like a Dali painting. Emma stands on her hind legs and hugs me when I walk in the door. Spencer gently grabs my hand with his mouth to lead me to his supper dish or greet a guest. One of them jumps to lock the deadbolt when we arrive home from work, but they always make us laugh and our hearts smile.

John Cherwa, Los Angeles Times

Trying to pick your favorite breed of dog is much like choosing your favorite potato chip, you can’t. But, when it comes time to make your choice, you always pick your own dog. So, there is no doubt that when Westminster has a class for Brussels Griffon-Shitzu-Border Collie-Parson Russell Terrier-Shetland Sheep Dog mix then I’ve got the hands-down winner. (Don’t laugh, we had his DNA tested.) His name is Griff. He is a rescue, having been locked in a closet without food and water for several days when his first family left him. Mixes (formerly known as mutts before they got a good PR person) are genetically superior because they are less inbred. Rescues are great because they’re just glad to be alive, and they have so much love to give. Those are my first choices. But, until Westminster adopts those as official classes, I’ll go with the Golden Retriever.

Shawn Courchesne, Hartford Courant

Stubborn, moody, confrontational and always, always, always ready for a long nap. And don’t forget, a bit gassy, too, and happily so.

Is there a more perfect pooch than that for a sports journalist? The dog days of August last all year.

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There’s nothing quite like the slobbering, sloppy, uncoordinated love and loyalty of an English Bulldog.

Graceful? Not so much.
Go for a jog? No thanks.
Chase that ball? Maybe, once or twice.
Lick your face? Reserve an hour or so.

And how can you not love a dog that snores louder than most sleep apnea sufferers?

You can have your chiseled Greyhound, your impeccably coiffed Poodle, your stately German Shepherd, I’ll take the lazy love of an English Bulldog over all of them.

Matt Humphrey, Orlando Sentinel

The beagle was bred to be the Elmer Fudd of hounds, a hunter of wascly wabbits and other small game.

Oh, how the breeders underestimated the beagle’s true potential as a pizza thief.

Meet Buddy, a 12-year-old beagle in Orlando, Fla. His general cuteness conceals all-star athleticism that he uses to his full advantage.

If you’re enjoying a slice of piping hot pie on the couch, he’ll rest quietly at your feet, his back turned. And just when you don’t realize he’s there, he transforms into the Blake Griffin of beagles, leaping into the air and twisting his body.

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In one swift, powerful motion, he grabs the pizza with his teeth and slams it home with two paws.

Then, remarkably, with the tilt of his head and the wagging of his tail, he quickly erases your anger with a wink and a smile.

That is true power.

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