I love innerviewin’ puppies. They’re so ex-ZOO-burr-runt, an they make me feel like a young sprout again. Betty Lou Brown is like that. She’s a frenly Bee-Gull, full of energy, real puppy soft an that trim, tidy Bee-gull build. When I heard she was a Lemon, I was like ‘Wha-at? Is she missing some important parts?’ Well, you probly already knew this, but I didn’t. I thought all Bee-Gulls were black an white an tan. But Betty Lou’s white and a softer kinda tan called Lemon. So – I learned something.
Anyway, Betty Lou an her Mom greeted us at the door. “Oh, Goody!” Betty Lou said, bouncing over for the Wag-an-Sniff, “I LOVE comp-ny. Let’s go sit on the couch. This is my Mommy, Mary Lou. My Daddy, Cam, an my brothers Will-yum, Harrison an Dewey are around here somewhere. They’re HU-mans. My big sister, Lexie should be out here pretty soon. She’s a cat. Would you like a liddle snack or some wadder? Mommy says it’s important to be puh-LITE.”
“It’s a pleasure, Miss Betty Lou,” I said. “I’m fine for now, thanks. Your manners are lovely.”
I opened my dog-eared (an nosed) notebook, an Betty Lou began snuffling the pages. “You’re gonna write about me on these pieces of paper?”
“Exactly. You tell me all about you an your famly and I’ll write it down right here.”
“Oh, goody! OK. Here I go! I was still in my litter with my brother an sister, drinkin’ Mommy Milk, when my future Mommy an Daddy started lookin’ for a Bee-gull, zackly like Charlie, a lemon like me, who had gone to Dog Heaven. They wanted our brother cuzza Charlie bein’ a boy, but he was already spoken for. Me an my sister looked like twins, ’cept I had this one polka dot an Mommy likes polka dots so I got picked.
“Us bee-gulls are real smart, ’specially me, an I learned ‘sit’ an ‘down’ in, like, a day. I also go to puppy training an uh-GIL-ity at Paw Prints. When Mommy an Daddy go away, I hang there with my pals. I have tons more pals at the Dog Park. I go every day at 4:30. I love runnin’ with the Big Dogs, but I’m ’spose to stay on the Liddle Dog side. My frens call me Princess of the Dog Park cuz I love to meet an greet everybody – pooches an humans. My Dog Park Besties are Scupper, he’s a Cava-Poo; an Ginny, a Welsh Corgi.
“Ooo, an THIS is Cool Kibbles: I learned to ring the Special Bell By The Door when I hafta Do My Duty. Lexie rings it to go out, too. Well, Mommy has this Real Comf-tubble beanbag chair. It’s her favrite. Mine too. So, when she’s in it, I ring the bell on behalf of Lexie, an, when Mommy gets up to let her out, I jump in the chair.”
“Clever girl,” I said. “Got any hobbies?”
“YES! Shedding! That’s a big one. An Smellin’ Stuff, ’specially after it rains. An Runnin’ on the Beach. ’Cept not during Turtle Season. Pooches shouldn’t go to the beach then cuz sometimes our in-stinks take over an we hafta DIG – an that could hurt the liddle baby turtles.
“When I first got adopted, I was just 8 weeks old an pretty wobbly. Mommy an Daddy gave me this gi-normous Frisbee. WAY bigger than me. I kept tryin’ to grab it an tumblin’ over. So I said poo on it. I do have a special rag from my litter days that smells like my pooch Mommy. That helped me feel conf-tubble at first, when I missed her. Also a stuffed puppy toy with a heartbeat, an it gets nice an warm, like my pooch Mommy. I still sleep with it.
“I usta play with bees in the garden. They never stung me but I don’t do it anymore.”
“Wise decision,” I opined.
“I also have an Important Task. Gardening with Mommy. We want all the plants in our garden to be not just pretty but also edi-bubble. So I dig the holes (us bee-gulls are expert diggers) an Mommy stuffs the plants in.”
“That is Exceptionally Environmentally Responsible,” I said in my Serious Journalist voice. “Using your digging in-stinks for the Greater Good.”
“An guess what?” she continued. “I have my own Instagram page (bettylou.beagle), with tons of pick-shurs of, well, ME.
Just then this beautiful, fluffy liddle Calico cat came strolling over. She jumped on the couch next to Betty Lou. “’Sup?” she said.
“I’m doin’ my innerview,” Betty Lou replied. “This is Mr. Bonzo.” Then, to me, “Lexie was raised by Charlie. She thinks she’s a pooch. She fetches. (An she even goes No. 1 on the TOY-lutt. It’s a liddle weird.)”
“Listen, kiddo,” she said, “I happen to be fas-tiddy-us. Plus, I don’t hafta keep runnin’ in an out like SOME pooches I could mention. So, Mr. B., you’d never know by lookin’ at me now, but I was a Dumpster Kitten. Yep, it was back in West Virginia. Mom and Dad were stopped at the railroad tracks on their way somewhere, an heard this liddle meow. It was me. Next to the dumpster, right by the tracks. A grubby little fluff ball. Scared to bits. Don’t know how many lives I wudda used up by now if they hadn’t scooped me up. Probly all of ’em. I learned a lot from Charlie, for sure. Still miss him. But Betty Lou here’s a cool liddle sister. Sorta goofy, but I wouldn’t trade her.”
Heading home, I was thinkin’ maybe I should get an Instagram page like Betty Lou. An online presence is THE way to get your brand Out There these days. I could post lotsa pictures of me, like Betty Lou does, of all her adventures. There’d be a whole bunch of me swimmin’ in the pool. An eatin.’ Humm. I guess that’d be about it. Never mind.
Till next time,
The Bonz
