So, you’re looking into a full grown F1 standard goldendoodle, huh? Sounds pretty specific, doesn’t it? “F1 standard.” Makes you think you know exactly what you’re getting, all neat and tidy, like it says on the tin.
Well, let me tell you, that “full grown” part, and even the “standard” part, can be a real trip. Not just with dogs, mind you. Life has a funny way of taking your “standard” plans and letting them grow into something… else entirely.
It reminds me of this one time I decided to build a simple shelf. Just a basic, standard shelf. That was the idea, anyway. I thought, how hard could it be? Get some wood, a few screws, bang it out in an afternoon. Famous last words, right?
I went to the hardware store, got what I thought I needed. Started in the garage. First couple of cuts, okay, not too bad. Then I realized the wood wasn’t quite straight. So, back to the store for a planer. Never used one before. That was an adventure.
Then I thought, “If I’m doing this, it should look decent.” So, the “standard” shelf idea started to morph. Maybe some nice edges? What about a different kind of joinery I saw on some internet video? Suddenly, my “afternoon project” was spilling into the next day, then the next weekend.
My garage started looking like a woodworking shop exploded. Dust everywhere. Tools I barely knew how to use. My wife would just peek in, shake her head, and walk away. I think she was taking bets on when I’d give up.
This “simple” shelf became this massive thing in my head. It had to be perfect. It had to be better than standard. It grew, alright. It grew into a multi-week obsession. I was dreaming about dovetail joints I didn’t even attempt.
Finally, I got it done. Or, well, as “done” as it was going to get. It was definitely full grown. Much bigger and more complicated than that first “standard” idea. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. Got some wobbly bits if you look too close. But it was built. With my own two hands and a lot more sweat and frustration than I ever bargained for.
Every time I look at that shelf now, holding up a bunch of old books, I don’t just see a shelf. I see the weeks of chaos, the unexpected problems, the way a small idea just ballooned. It’s a solid reminder that “standard” is often just a starting point, and “full grown” usually comes with a story you didn’t quite expect to write.
So yeah, a full grown F1 standard goldendoodle. I bet they have their own stories of growing up, probably not always sticking to the “standard” puppy manual either. That’s just how things go, I guess. You plan for one thing, and life, or the dog, or the darn shelf, has other ideas. And you just roll with it.
