Hi neighbors, Loki here. Though around my house, most people call me LoLo.

I’m a 16-month-old Soft Coated Wheaten Terrier, and honestly? Life is good.

There’s nothing more fun than the zoomies when Sam and Nolan come over, wrestling with Chief, greeting neighbors from my side porch, and lake days.

If there’s running, laughing, splashing, mud, or general chaos happening somewhere nearby…

I’m in.

Actually, I’m probably already there waiting for you.

I live with my mom, Kathy Thorsen, who has lived in The Preserve for 22 years. She loves how friendly everyone is here, and honestly, I do too. There’s always neighbors to greet. New dogs to welcome. Kids to patrol. Being social is what life is all about.

My favorite place to hang out is on my side porch so I can keep an eye on the neighborhood and

properly greet everyone walking by. I LOVE saying hello.

If someone seems distracted or doesn’t notice me, I bark a little reminder. We are neighbors after all. And an Irish dog takes greetings seriously.

My breed originally comes from Ireland where Wheatens were bred to herd sheep. We have extra

strong hind legs and use our hips to bump sheep back into the flock, which is probably where the

famous “Wheaten greetin’” comes from too. We don’t just walk up to people… we gather everybody together.

Sheep are a little boring, if you ask me.

They probably needed a Wheaten to liven things up.

Some dogs just guard the house. Wheatens guard and gather the party!

We’ve got more family here in the neighborhood. Page is here, my human sister if we’re being

specific, along with her husband Eric.

But my best friends are her sons, Sam and Nolan, and of course Chief. Chief is another Wheaten Terrier, so naturally things escalate. Think sprinting through yards and wrestling at full speed like we’ve had twelve cups of coffee. It’s the best.

Sam and Nolan are technically humans, but they play like Wheatens, which is probably why we have so much fun. The second they show up, things get louder, faster, muddier, and way more exciting. Exactly as they should.

My family’s favorite story actually happened the day they brought me home. Sam insisted I ride

in the backseat with him and Nolan.

But… when you gotta go, you gotta go.

What happened next involved Sam’s arm and timing that could have been better.

Honestly, that’s what brothers do. Doo doo. 

Before Kathy brought me home, my human dad passed away. To honor his Norwegian heritage, she named me Loki after the Norse god of mischief.

Mom says the name fits me perfectly.

Personally, I like to think mom needed a little mischief. A little fun. I bring the fun.

Sometimes my mom calls me names I don’t understand when I eat expensive sunglasses or steal

food off the counter, but honestly, I think life is more exciting this way.

Every house needs a little unpredictability.

Mom says I’m an aggressive chewer, which is why she keeps me stocked with beef cheeks and yak cheese. I prefer to think of myself as highly committed to my hobbies.

My perfect day starts with everyone together and ends with everyone exhausted. I love going to the lake with the whole family, riding on the boat, splashing in shallow water with Sam and Nolan, and running until my legs physically stop working.

I also love going to the farm where Mom grew up and racing through the hayfields with Chief.

I’m not a huge fan of the cows though.

Frankly, they’re too slow and boring.

I love walking the neighborhood because there’s always somebody to greet, a new dog to meet, or a kid who looks like they might want to play.

Apparently I’m still “working on” my outdoor dining manners before I’m invited to Vecchia, but

I do enjoy visiting Moss Rock Pharmacy because they understand the importance of Southern hospitality and having snacks ready when guests arrive.

At the end of the day, I think life is pretty simple.

Play hard.

Love your people.

Say hello to everyone.

And never miss a chance to have fun.

That’s worked out really well for me so far.

So if you walk by my porch sometime, stop and say hello.

I’ll probably already be bouncing in your direction.

That’s just good neighborhood manners. And maybe a little Irish hospitality too.