Woof, was this week’s innerview Crispy Dog Biscuits fun! It was with Max an Duke Kabe – they’re both Chi-Poos (Chi-waa-waa-poodle mixtures). I guess you could also call ’em Poo-Chees or Poo-Waas or Waa-dulls … oh, sorry, I get a liddle carried away with all the mixture names.)
Anyway, they live in this Cool Kibbles place right onna marina, with lotsa big boats. Max (he’s 8) and Duke (he’s 9) are So Fun. They zipped right up for the Wag-an-Sniff, with that Little-Dog-With-A-Big-Dog-Swagger. Max was specially intrested in My Assistant, probly because of the Turkey an Sweet Potato snacks we always bring as a liddle Hello Treat. He also sniffed my notebook and pawed the pages.
“Hi, Mr. Bonzo! It’s US, Max (that’s ME), an Duke. An our Gramma an Grampa, Michele an Bob. Is this (he nose-bumped my notebook) where you write stuff about us?”
“It’s great meeting you all! An yep, this is my Official Notebook.” I flipped it open, an Max friffled a few more pages. “So, tell me your Tail.”
“I’m gonna start,” said Max. “Before us, Gramma an Grampa had Sasha, a big ol’ mutt they inherited from their son. Then, about a year later, they got Duke, who was also inherited from their son, mostly cuzza having some Significent Potty Training Issues.”
“That’s true, but I’ve overcome them now,” Duke piped up. “Then, I was only 8 months old. Sasha became my sorta big sister. I always played and did puppy stuff, since she was the ma-CHUR one. But then she went to Dog Heaven an I REE-lized I was Dog of the House, not a silly pupper anymore.”
“I’m tellin’ about ME now,” said Max. “Gramma and Grampa weren’t ’specially lookin’ for another pooch. Duke was fine as Dog of the House.”
“Totally true,” interjected Duke.
“But then,” Max continued, “Grampa accidently saw a pickshur of ME On The Line an printed it out. I was just 8 weeks old. I had PAYpers an everything. He showed my pickshur to Gramma and told her I was gonna be their new dog. Here, I’ll show you.”
He brought out a folded-up, dog-eared, black-an-white pick-shur his Grampa had in his billfold. WELL, nobody could have possibly resisted that liddle fluffball. My assistant was ooo-ing an ahhh-ing all over the place.
“So, obviously,” Max continued, “Gramma an Grampa got me. Since they were down here an I was way far away – somewhere called Kansas City – I hadda fly onna PLANE, inna CRATE. You go in, an it’s pretty loud, an you can’t eat, or drink or Do Your Doody. You’re just s’pose to NAP. Then after a long time, you’re someplace else. First I flew to Dallas. Then I flew to that place with the Mouse, where Gramma an Grampa picked me up an took me to my Forever Home.”
“So, how’d you two get along at first?”
“We first met in the yard,” Duke said. “I alluva sudden had this bouncy, loveable liddle brother, who kept givin’ me kisses and nose bumps an wantin’ to PLAY. When it got to be Too Much, I’d just do a liddle ‘Grrrr’ in my Low Voice.
“I’ve always been an Outside Pooch. It’s in my jeans. I usta love tracking mysterious underground animals called MOLES. For hours I’d watch those liddle mounds of dirt move. But, I’m getting Up There and, ever since I blew out my ACL, I only chase lizards an squirrels, but not too far, or too fast, just to keep a paw in the game.
“Me an Max have this routine. One treat in the morning, then a liddle walk, then Do Our Dooty. Then Breakfast. I pretty much hang outside all day, chillin’. I sit on the patio sofa and watch the people an the boats an bark hello to our neighbors. They call us The Boys.”
“I’m NOT an Outdoors Pooch,” said Max, bouncin’ around. “I go out to Do My Doody. Then it’s back to the A/C. I have baskets of squeaky toys.” He picked up a stuffy reindeer. “Thiff wud’s by FAY-brid!” He peetooied it out. “I can also dance. Watch.” He pirouetted around on his back paws.
“You got some MOVES goin’ on there, Max!” I observed. “Any special pooch pals?”
“Me an Elsa have play dates,” said Max. “She’s a Havanese.”
“My BFF was Lucas,” said Duke. “He’s a Chi-waa-waa. But he moved away. We’d meet on leashwalks. His walker Nora and Grampa’d sit onna bench an let us play.”
“Since you’re right by all those boats, do you like boatin’?”
“Duke does,” said Max. “Me, meh. Takes me about a mile to calm down. I’m NOT a Water Dog. But I LOVE the beach. Down in the Buh-HAH-muhs, we chase that magic soap-sudsy stuff. It disappears. Then it comes right back. I don’t know how it DOES that.”
“Whaddya like to eat?”
“I have Health Issues,” Duke explained, “so I have a special diet. We get kibbles, of course, an Grampa makes duhlicious roast chicken and beef jerky. We’re both Alpha pooches but I’m the Most Alpha. So Max doesn’t eat till I’m done.”
“No Woof?” I exclaimed, noting that their food bowls were right next to each other.
“That’s TRUE!” said Max. “Sometimes Duke even pulls a Big Brother by takin’ his time, just to pester me.”
Duke winked at me behind his paw. “When Gramma an Grampa have to Go Out, we each get a yummy Baby Carrot.”
“I gobble mine right away,” said Max, “but Duke doesn’t eat his till Gramma an Grampa get home, if you can buh-leeve it. He plays with it, flips it in the air, lies on it. But he doesn’t eat it. That’s weird, in my opinion.”
Heading home, I was thinkin’ about askin’ my Gramma if she’d make me some homemade beef jerky. She’s a really good cook, so I bet she CAN. I hadda agree with Max. That carrot thing was pretty weird.
Till next time,