A friend of mine, who lives in an apartment and has a busy, demanding life, recently got a new dog. Border collie/staffy cross. Within weeks she was frayed at the edges. The dog was naughty and needing. Tearing up the furniture. Clawing at the door frames. Howling when left alone. Growling at other dogs in the park. As frustrating as this was for her, it wasn't hard to understand, once you stepped back. A working dog, bred over generations for stimulation and purpose and space, dropped into eleven square metres and a ten-hour workday. The dog wasn't broken. The fit was.