This week I had a fun yap with Critter and Freddie Meyer, who live with their Mom, Karli. They greeted me an my assistant in a very frenly way. We hadda be careful to not step on ’em during the Wag-and-Sniffs, cuz they were real liddle.
Critter is a hundred percent Pomeranian, and hadda good lookin’, seriously fluffy gold coat. He looked like cotton candy with a little fox face in the middle. Freddie’s a long-haired Chihuahua who’s called tri-color cuzza bein’ black an white an gold. I thought he looked sorta like that gremlin from the movie.
Critter did the intros then settled into his Mom’s lap. Freddie plopped down beside the couch. I got my notebook out. “So, how did you pooches find your Forever Mom?” I inquired.
“I’ll start,” said Freddie. “I was what humans called a Stud, which I think means a professional puppydaddy. But I didn’t ever see my puppies, which made me sad. I wudda been a good Dad. Anyway, there was a big bunch of us in this house, an then the neighbors decided we couldn’t stay and they booted us out – me an seven lady pooches. Thank Lassie, some nice humans rescued us an Dr. George spiffed us all up. Meanwhile, Mom heard about our sit-chew-ashun. Her other dogs were all in Dog Heaven, so she checked us out and found – ME!”
“Cool Kibbles!” I said.
“OK, now me,” said Critter. “Mom has worked with dogs an dog rescue groups for a long time, but her regular work is over at Ron Rennick, where humans are always dropping off nice, really old furniture. Well, one day a man dropped off something for Mom. ME. I guess he knew that Mom was Good with Dogs. Mom said, ‘Ron Rennick gets furniture an I get – a dog.’ Mom figured out I was probly a Puppy Mill Dog. I had papers. I came from Utah, then to Florida. At first, Mom was Not Thrilled, but I was Super Cute, of course, so she decided to try me out for a month, and she called First Dibs, just in case. Well, I wasn’t exactly a Shoo-In. I was what Mom calls A Handful. I’ve always had a lotta energy an I’m not snoozy like Freddie. No offense. But, finally, thank Lassie, my Adorable Factor saved the day. Now Mom calls us Snarky and Snarkier. But we know she loves us. She even painted this Cool Kibbles pickshure of me. She’s an artist. Look!”
He pointed to a portrait on the wall of Freddie with leafy stuff in the background. Looked just like him, big boogly eyes an everything. “Woof! Sweeet!” I exclaimed. “So what’s life like these days?”
“It’s great,” said Critter. “We get three squares a day. An we ride in this pawsome red Radio Flyer wagon with wooden sides an a special cooler! Every night, when Mom reads in bed, we get chewy sticks. But we don’t start chewin’ ’em til Mom opens her book. That’s our roo-TEEN. An Mom got bells for our collars so she’ll know where we are at All Times.” He lowered his voice. “They’re CAT bells. She thinks we don’t know. Ackshully we don’t really mind that much. They’re the right size for us. Plus, now we have little thingys on our collars so Mom can track our whereabouts on her phone.
“Oh, we also have another brother, Birdie, he’s a rescue parakeet.” He pointed to a big cage by the window. “Birdie learned to bark, just like us. When we bark, Birdie barks, too. He likes his cage, doesn’t fly around the house. We told him we’d NEVER eat him or anything, Dogs’ Honor, but I think he just wants to be on the safe side.”
The whole time we were yapping, Critter was chewing on the ear of a stuffed bunny.
“Nice bunny,” I remarked.
“I cabe wif id,” he said, his mouth full of bunny ear. “Id’s by fay-bwut.” He petooied it out. “I have this chewing thing. On leash walks, I hold the leash in my mouth and chew it while we walk. We have cool pooch and human neighbors, too. The humans give me nicknames like Pixel, Chickpea and Creamsicle, cuzza my color, I guess.”
Freddie chimed in. “Aunt Jeni an Uncle Frank think Critter’s hilarious. He can really make ’em laugh. Not me, though. To tell you the true, Mr. Bonzo, I don’t play – just never learned how. I don’t like toys either, an I get kinda nervous when Critter tears all over the place. Like, when somebody flushes the toilet, Critter will stand there watchin’ and his head goes round an round with the water. I mean, REALLY? If he gets too obnoxious, I just bare my teeth and give him The Look. Then I think I look like that gremlin in the movie, sorta scary, and Critter backs off.”
“You DO look scary, Fredster,” Critter said. “An can I help it if I’m enthusiastic?”
“Woof!” I thought to myself, “Hit the nail on the head.”
“Well,” Freddie said, sounding a little miffed, “I may not go zooming around like a doof-muffin, licking everything in sight, but I do enjoy dressing up on Halloween. I have a black an red devil costume I look pretty snazzy in, if I say so myself.”
His Mom brought in a bag of costumes. She put a punkin outfit on Critter, an orange hood with green leaves on top, with his fluffy ears sticking out on the sides. I thought I’d fall right over laughing, but restrained myself so I wouldn’t get The Look. Then she put Freddie’s devil outfit on and he made a scary face. I totally lost it.
“You pooches are Super Cool Dog Biscuits!”
Heading home, I was picturing a big portrait of me in a nice frame, hanging over the mantle. An trying to remember whether we have a mantle – and what exactly a mantle is.
Till next time,