This week I met Chloe Meikle, a charming little pooch with a small touch of Kiwi in her yap, which she gets from her adoring human Dad, who’s from New Zealand.
Chloe’s a Chihuahua/terrier mix, and, between you and me, I’m pretty sure she has a dab of Yoda in her, too. Not the Jedi light sabre part, but the Really Big, Expressive Pointy Ears part. I mean, she could become airborne if she got going fast enough ‘cuz her ear span is wider than her whole fluffy body. She wears ‘em sticking straight out to the sides, like airplane wings.
We met at Chloe’s workplace: she oversees her Dad’s office, and assists him in an advisory capacity. As soon as me and my assistant entered the reception area, Chloe was right there, barking a welcome, and executing a couple of pre-Wag and Sniff twirls.
“A real pleasure, Mr. Bonzo. I’m Chloe, but my Humans call me Miss Sweetie. This is my Dad, John. My Mom Melinda’s at home. Come on, we’ll go back to my office.”
We settled in, Chloe’s chair next to her Dad’s, so she could pop onto his lap or put a dainty paw on his knee in case he forgot to keep scratching her ears. They were obviously the best of pals.
“I work with Dad here, but not at his other job: Sometimes he calls himself Arthur and writes books. I don’t get it but, when he’s doing it, I go watch TV, ‘cuz I’m a terrible speller.
“I’m around 2 now, but I was only one-and-a-half when the dogcatcher spotted me on a street in Miami and took me to the shelter. So there I was, hangin’ out with lots of other pooches, wondering what was next. Meanwhile, up in Vero, Mom and Dad decided it was time to get a dog again, since Theakston, their Jack Russell, had gone to Dog Heaven after a long, happy life. They decided to go to a big party called Cause for Paws that raises money to help needy pooches.”
I nodded. It’s always been one of my favorite events.
“Well, I hadn’t even been in the shelter a fortnight, when the Cause for Paws people realized they had run out of little dogs, so they called Miami and got heaps of pooches sent up, including me! Mom and Dad didn’t get to go to the party ‘cuz the tickets were sold out, but their friend had spotted me there (I mean, who wouldn’t, eh?) and he told Dad I was THE dog for him and Mom. Dad rushed down next day, took one look at me, and called dibs! Mom rushed right over, and they got me before anyone else could.
“Mom and Dad thought I’d be nervous in a new place, but I wasn’t! I’m pretty laid back. Fearless, too, if I do say so. I’d never seen a lift before but, when we got in, it was, like, cool dog biscuits. No worries.”
“What’s your typical day like?” I queried.
“We start with a morning walk – early if dad doesn’t have his workout, later if he does. I’m ALWAYS ready. And I totally LOVE the dog park. Did you go to the Bark and Brew there last weekend? Wasn’t it so fun? I run with the Big Dogs, doesn’t scare me a bit. I’m faster than them anyway. And they know better than to call me a Dingo! I’m NOT a raggy ol’ wild dog! I’m a proper lady. Polite and obedient. Mostly. I like horses, too. They have the softest noses. Dad says I’m a great little hunter. That’s my terrier blood. I catch lizards, don’t eat ‘em, just munch ‘em a bit. Land crabs, too, but y’gotta be careful with them.”
“Woof! I imagine so.” I couldn’t picture little Chloe as a huntress, but I sure didn’t doubt her.
“I also run around in my backyard. Me and my across-the-fence dachshund neighbors do a lotta chin-waggin’. I don’t know any tricks yet, but my human big sister, Sarah, is gonna teach me some. She’s a service dog trainer. I got toys, too. I lie in my little daybed, grab my toys with my teeth and toss ‘em into the air. It’s a flick-and-sling maneuver. I’m really good at it.
“Oh, and, pretty soon we’re gonna go way far away on an airplane to someplace called San, um, San something. I forget. You go to the top of Florida and turn left. I’m gonna meet some human cousins and a dog cousin, Bear, she’s a Newfoundland. I can’t wait!”
“Wanna know my favorite thing to do at home?” She lowered her voice. “Our house is very big, with lots of places to hide. I pick a hiding spot, then Mom and Dad have to find me. Or try to.” She woof-giggled. “They call and call but I don’t answer. That’s part of the game. I still haven’t run out of new hiding places. It doesn’t make ‘em mad or anything. When I let ‘em find me, they always give me hugs and kisses.”
“Wow, Chloe, you really have fun days!” I told her.
“I know. And at night, when I’m all knackered out, I fall asleep snuggled up with Mom and Dad. Nothing’s better than that!”
Heading home, I pictured tiny little Chloe happily bumping noses with a huge horse. Someday maybe I’ll get up the nerve to find out for myself just how soft horse noses are. Then again, maybe not.
Till next time,
The Bonz
