The Story of Sherlock.

Sherlock: The Dog Who Thinks He’s Outsmarted Everyone

Black and white.

Yin and yang.

In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang are opposite but connected forces—dark and light, quiet and active, stillness and motion. Neither exists without the other. Together, they create balance.

Sherlock has always reminded me of that.

Partly because of his personality, but also because he quite literally wears it. Wrapped in a shaggy black-and-white coat, he has always seemed to carry that symbol with him.

It was the first Thanksgiving after both of my parents had passed away. My family was gathered together, trying to hold on to one tradition that grief hadn’t taken from us—watching the National Dog Show after Thanksgiving dinner.

My parents had been as different as night and day. Looking back, it somehow seems fitting that a little black-and-white puppy entered our lives during that first holiday without them.

When the Tibetan Terrier stepped into the show ring, I was captivated. Having always loved Lhasa Apsos, I immediately fell for this larger cousin with the same shaggy coat and bright expression.

Then the internet did what the internet does.

Within minutes I found a puppy for sale. I was certain the breeder was only about two hours away. Olivia was already completely in love with the idea, and before any of us had time to think too hard about it, arrangements were made.

The next thing we knew, we were on the road.

Somewhere along the trip, I realized I had misread the town’s location. Our “quick drive” had somehow turned into a six-hour journey.

By then there was no turning back.

I still remember driving through the Hoosier National Forest around nine o’clock that night. Darkness surrounded us, and I was incredibly thankful I had filled the gas tank before entering the forest. There wasn’t another gas station—or much of anything else—for miles.

When we finally arrived, there he was.

The cutest little black-and-white ball of fluff you could imagine.

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Of course, he wasted no time proving that adorable and agreeable are two very different things.

Anyone familiar with the Lhasa family knows they come equipped with an independent streak a mile wide, and Sherlock embraced that reputation from day one.

I was determined to crate train him.

Sherlock was equally determined that I would not.

The first attempt lasted all of twenty minutes before he launched a full-scale protest. It quickly became obvious that this tiny puppy possessed an astonishing amount of confidence packed into a very small body.

He was always into something.

At one point I seriously considered changing his name. Instead of simply Sherlock, I thought perhaps he should be called “Oooh… Sherlock!” because that seemed to be the phrase I said most often as I discovered his latest adventure.

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As Sherlock grew, one thing became perfectly clear: life was never going to be dull.

He approached every day as if it were an investigation. If there was fresh mud, he would find it. If I was painting, somehow he would end up wearing a little of the artwork himself. More than once I looked over to find my black-and-white dog sporting streaks of bright pink paint, completely unconcerned that he had just become part of the project.

Sherlock has always lived by his own set of rules.

Rain? Absolutely not.

If it’s raining outside, he’ll stand at the door, look back at me with complete confidence, and seem to say, “Nah…I’m good. I’ll just pee in the kitchen, thank you.”

Treats, however, are another matter entirely.

Sherlock would probably climb a mountain for a treat.

Over the years he’s developed an elaborate little scheme whenever I’m at work. He convinces my nephew that he desperately needs to go outside. Dutifully, the back door is opened. Sherlock trots out…runs all the way around the house to the front door…and waits to be let back in.

Not because he changed his mind.

Because coming back inside earns him a treat.

It’s a plan he’s convinced is brilliant, and judging by how often he tries it, he hasn’t seen any reason to improve on it.

That’s Sherlock.

Independent. Stubborn. Clever. Equal parts philosopher and comedian, wrapped in a shaggy black-and-white coat.

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When I think about that first Thanksgiving after losing my parents, I can’t help but smile. None of us knew that a spur-of-the-moment decision, a six-hour drive, and one stubborn little puppy would become such a lasting part of our story.

Sherlock has filled our lives with muddy paw prints, paint splatters, laughter, and more than a few exasperated sighs. Through all the seasons at Oz, he’s remained exactly who he’s has always been—unapologetically himself.

Perhaps that’s why the idea of yin and yang still feels so fitting.

He’s the perfect balance of chaos and comfort, mischief and loyalty, independence and companionship.

And somehow…he always thinks he’s the smartest one in the room.

Truth be told, he might not be entirely wrong.

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