Bonz reconnects with awesome Ellie in the Big Apple


This week I visited a lady fren, Eleanor Louise Rohlfingstaff, up in New York City. She lives way high inna big building, where you can ackshully watch birds swoopin’ around in the trees from On Top: Cool Kibbles!

Anyway, Eleanor (everyone calls her Ellie) is younger than me, about 5 she thinks, a rescue mix who looks like a loaf of bread, with white feet an muzzle anna long tail that Never Stops Waggin’. ’Cept for naps.

Ellie’s fearless but feminine, with an adorable underbite (her folks call her a QWAY-zye piranha) an cute ears that stick up like sailboat sails, an fold in the middle, so she can make ’em both stick all the way up, or flop over, or just one. It’s huh-LARRY-us.

Ellie’s also a Very Good Watch Pooch so, when me an my assistant knocked, we heard lotsa Serious Barkin’ and toenail clickin.’

Ellie was still barkin’ when a human man opened the door. Till she saw us.

“Oh, it’s YOU, Bonz! I wasn’t sure. Come IN! Grreat to see you! You know my Daddy, Nicholas (who was busy helpin’ Ellie remove her blue leash an harness). My Mommy, Heidi’s, elsewhere doin’ a musical, an my brudder Mac’s at CAH-ludge. Would you like a liddle snack?

Some water?”

“Maybe later,” I replied. “Grreat to see you, too, Ellie! It’s been a while.”

We got situated in the living room an I opened my notebook. I hadn’t brought the usual snacks cuz I knew Ellie had a Very Spuh-SIFFIC meal schedule with No Extra Snacks or Random ‘Accidentally’ Dropped Crumbs allowed. (I hoped my assistant would abide by the rules, but, from past experience, I was a liddle con-CERNED.)

“I’m eager to hear your story in dee-tail: how you an your Furever Famly met, what your life’s like, stuff like that.”

“Sure, Bonz. Here goes! So, Mommy an Daddy were feelin sad cuz their previous pooch, Olive, hadda go to Dog Heaven an they Weren’t Ready for Another Pooch. They Thought.

Meanwhile, I was living in this very building and wasn’t bein’ taken care of due to a buncha circumstances: I was just another pupper with a dismal future.”

“Woof, Ellie, I never knew that!”

“Yeah, Soggy Dog Biscuits, for sure. Then one day when Mommy was doin’ a show out in Sandy-A-go, a neighbor on the second floor, Miss Jeaniene, who knew about Olive, told Daddy an my brudder there was a liddle puppy they might be interested in, an Woof-mailed them my pickshur. They were uncertain, since Mommy was gone, but agreed to meet in-the-fur on the Second Floor Landing. I was, of course, an adorable wiggly liddle muffin. I gave ’em, like, millions of kisses, the usual puppy stuff. Daddy an Mac gave me a Thumbs Up but it hadda be you-NANNY-muss. So they went back to the apartment, an called Mommy. She pondered all night an, the very next day, agreed to adopt me, Thank Lassie!

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but my original name was Georgia. No idea why. Anyway, Mommy gave me a much more Cool Kibbles name, Eleanor, after a character in a movie she did called ‘Freaky Friday,’ an Louise cuz that was Olive’s middle name.”

“So, when did you ackshully meet your Mom in-the-fur?”

“A coupla weeks after I got my Furever Famly, me an Daddy flew in one of those big metal bird-thingys out to Mommy. I was a Carry-On. I got to stay there as her Special Assistant.

(Still am. I even get an All-Access Backstage Pass.) I loved it out there. Specially playin’ with lotsa other poocheroos on this grrreat dog beach on the Puh-siffic Oshun. By the time we got back to New York, I was officially a Mommy’s Grrrl.”

I nodded. It happens.

“When I was about 4 months old,” Ellie continued, “still a happy, floppy pupper, I started learnin’ Basic Dog Stuff: Where to Do my Duty an Where to Not; Chewin’ Stuff (Don’t); Eatin’ Stuff Off the Floor (Don’t). It was hard, cuz I REALLY loved chewin’, specially phone cords an pens; an I really REALLY liked eatin’ stuff off the floor, specially CRUMMS. ‘Leave No Crumm Unturned!’ That’s my motto, I guess cuz I didn’t get enough foodfstuffs in my puppyhood. I’m Always Hungry. I even eat what I don’t like. PLUS, I don’t chew!”

“Say wha-at?”

“It’s troo. I just SWALLOW, sometimes so fast I ralph it back up. Mommy an Daddy haffta schmoosh up my kibbles an I have a special puzzle dish so I can’t gulp. For snacks, I enjoy carrots, frozen strawberries, the occasional banana. My vet has me on a special diet. But (don’t tell, OK?) sometimes Uncle Michael or Uncle Jeff accidently drops a teeny piece of broiled salmon or hanger steak on the floor in my vicinity.

“One time there was an episode at the theatre, in the dressing room, when I removed (an ate) a protein bar from somebody’s bag. An who can forget the Candy Corn Incident. Which wasn’t my fault. Mac’s door was left open when the famly was away an there it was: this big bag of Halloween Candy Corn.”

“Oh boy.”

“Yeah. Every single piece. I NEVER want to see another Candy Corn EVER again!”

“I get that. So, any speshull pet pals?”

“Here in my building there’s Miss Jeaniene’s cat, Mariah. An up in the Catskills (you know, I’ve NEVER seen a cat up there. Why can’t they call it the Dogskills?). Oh well. There’s no big buildings, just lotsa trees an hills an ponds. We stay at Uncle Geoff an Uncle Christopher’s house an I run an play with their pooch, Grover. He’s hypoallergenic.”

It was great seeing Miss Ellie again, an I was a liddle sad sayin’ goodbye. Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ how important it is to keep in touch with ol’ frens, if only by Woof-Mail. I was also thinkin’ I might see if Gramma could find a frozen strawberry for me to try.

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