This week I got to yap with a surfer pooch! He’s a big celebrity, with trophies, a Facebook page, and his own fan club, Team Waldo! With T-shirts!
His name’s Waldo Leverette. He’s 6 and lives with his human Mom and Dad, Mike and Susie. His Dad’s a surfer dude, too, and he builds surfboards, so Waldo has his very own board, custom-made cypress and mahogany. No woof!!
The door opened and there he was! Long, wavy blonde hair and a flower lei around his neck. Soo-o West Coast!
“Yo, Dude! Come on in! I’m totally stoked that you’re here!”
To prepare, I had Googled “Surf-speak for Dummies” so I replied, “Howzit, Dog?”
After the wag-and-sniff, I said, “Can‘t wait to hear your story. You’re not from here, right?”
He grinned. “I’m a Tibetan Terrier. Betcha haven’t heard that one, am I right? We have DNA from Lhasa Apsos and Shih Tzus, so we’re not actually terriers. We were Tibitan temple dogs. Way Important! When the temple humans got sad, we’d cheer ‘em up. And our hair was all the way to the ground. I hafta get mine cut so I’m more aerodynamic on my board. Otherwise, Mom says, I’d look like a Hovercraft.”
I’d never heard any of that stuff before. “How’d you end up at sea level? Isn’t there, like, a lot of snow and mountains in Tibet?”
“Totally! My puppyhood’s kinda fuzzy. Sometimes I dream about snow. But my first actual memory is being dropped off at a pound in Brevard County when I was just a pupster. I thought I’d been a pretty good boy, but I musta messed up somehow. The pound humans were nice, tho, and lots of ‘em came to look at us pooches.
“When my Mom saw me, she knew! The pound people said I wasn’t up for adoption ‘cuz I still had to ‘have my appendix out,’ and they wouldn’t let Mom put me on layaway. Well, after my appendix was out, she came back and waited on line for hours! She was not gonna leave without me, thank Lassie! When she took me home, Dad was out kayaking so Mom called and I yapped with him. Now Dad calls me One Rare Pooch! So I found my Forever Family and my True Calling. Surfing!! I’ll never forget it. It was Friday the 13th, my lucky dog day!
“We’d all get in a little airplane and fly down to Eleuthera, which is an island where everybody swims, snorkels and surfs. Plus, they don’t discriminate against surfers of the canine persuasion. That’s where I learned to swim. At first, Mom and Dad would swim and pull me around on my Boogie Board. Sometimes Dad’d put a lobster on the board, which freaked me out. I mean, have you seen those grabby claws? And Mom’d put sand dollars on me. She said I looked cute, but they creeped me out ‘cuz they stuck to my coat.”
“When didya start surfing?”
“Soon as I got my balance on my Boogie Board, sitting first, then standing. Dad built me my own surfboard. It’s 7 feet long, with a special mat so I don’t slip. It just came natural to me! I learned how to Hang 20, and not wipe out. I have a cool pair of shades and my own life vest! Anyway, before I know it, I’m in this big Dog Surfin’ Contest. Surfer pooches from places like Brazil, Canada, Florida, California! (Those Cali pooches are hard to beat.) I was in the International Division ‘cuz we sometimes live in the Bahamas. Well, I won the Division and came in third overall. I was the Top East Coast Dog. It was epic! I was super stoked!”
So was I! Almost forgot to take notes.
“Last year,” he continued, “I competed up in Cocoa Beach. Dog, that surf was Pooch Perfect! Not too gnarly, not too flat. The crowd was huge. I won that one, too! Dogabunga all the way! Got a big basket of cool stuff and a weekend stay at the Marriott. But, guess what, Mom and Dad went, but I had to stay home ‘cuz it was No Dogs Allowed. Can you believe it?”
“That’s just wrong!” I said.
“One time, in Jupiter, the surf was so gnarly we kept wiping out. But I finally rode one all the way in – Dry Paws! – and won! But, if you can believe it, Bonz, we haven’t found any beaches here in our own county where a dog can practice surfing. We have to go to Jupiter. Or to Walton Rocks Beach in Port St. Lucie. I call it Waldo Rocks! Beach!”
“Man, that’s totally Soggy Dog Biscuits fer sure,” I said. “Whaddya do when you’re not surfing?”
“We have a sailboat! I love to sail! When I’m not climbing waves, I mostly love to eat, and snooze in the shade. And read my fan mail. Hey, Bonz, you gotta come to my next competition. Check my Facebook page for dates.”
I coulda listened to Waldo’s surfin’ stories all day. “It’s been awesome!” I said.
“Totally Rad!” Waldo called. “Later, Dude!”
Till next time,
The Bonz
