This week I innerviewed Miss Philly Mazza, a totally charming rescue poocheroo who’s a very sturdy, well-pruh-porshuned mixture of boxer an probly ridgeback, with a very frenly face an really, really nice brown eyes.
Due to x-TEN-u-waiting circumstances, me an my assistant weren’t able to go to Miss Philly’s place, so she came to US.
After waitin’ puh-litely till her Dad said it was OK, Miss Philly jumped down outta the back seat of her car (wearin’ a sturdy orange collar and harness) an trotted over for the Wag-an-Sniff.
“Welcome, Miss Philly. It’s such a pleasure to meet you! Thank you for coming to my office for the innerview,” I told her.
“My pleasure, Mr. Bonzo. This is my Dad, Jim. We’re a team! We’ve been together almost as long as I can remember. I’m so excited I get to tell you all about my life so far. I’m 5 in human.”
After we got comftubble on the padio, I opened my notebook an Miss Philly began her tail.
“Me an my sibs were at a rescue place in Pencil-VANE-yuh called Salfid Rescue. We were about 5 months old. Meanwhile, Dad was livin’ in Pencil-VANE-yuh at the time, an had been dogless for a year-anna-haff in human. Dad an his pit-lab mixture rescue Reggie had been together for a really, really long time, when Reggie hadda go to Dog Heaven. Dad was just startin’ to ree-lize he needed another buddy of the canine variety.”
“I see that a lot,” I remarked. “Humans often wait a long time till their ready to find another Furever Pet, but it always seems to work out like it’s s’pose to.”
“Woof are you right!” Miss Philly agreed. “It worked out perfect for me, fur sure. Anyway, Dad and his Mom (I called her Gramma Connie) came to our shelter. There were only four of us left in our litter: I wasn’t a bouncy pupper like my sibs, I was kinda shy. But Gramma Connie KNEW I was The One. She picked me right out. The first night with my Furever Dad an Gramma, I was a liddle app-ree-HEN-sive, but by the next day I was comfy an happy.”
“That is SO Cool Kibbles, Miss Philly,” I said. “So how’d you get that Crispy Biscuits name?”
She smiled. “I love my name. Dad gave it to me. Have you ever heard of a game humans play call football? It’s a liddle bit like fetch cuz there’s a funny shaped ball that gets thrown or kicked by a buncha guys, and then another bunch hasta bring it back, but after that it’s diffrent. They crash into each other and end up in big piles. I guess it’s a human thing.”
“Anyway, in the same year when Dad ’dopted me, the Philly team was playing this Very Important Football Game and Dad was rootin’ for them cuz they were from Pencil-VANE-yuh.
An they WON. So Dad gave me the same name as them. Cool Kibbles, doncha think?”
“Totally! So, tell me about life with your Furever Dad.”
“Soon as I could fit into it, Dad gave me this very harness and leash which buh-longed to Reggie. Isn’t that SO Crispy Biscuits. I’m very proud of it.”
“Woof, Miss Philly, that is Really Speshull!” I exclaimed.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I love car travelin’! I’m Dad’s co-pilot! We try to do 400 miles a day includin’ stops for me. We’ve been lotsa places: Ari-ZONE-uh; Carls-bad; DEN-vur; Cali-FORN-yuh, TEX-us (there’s lotsa pooch-frenly rest-runts there); New Mexico an other spots, too.
“I’m ackshully pretty much a homebody, when we’re not travelin’. I’ve always been very well buh-haved: I never chew my toys to bits, they just sorta wear out, ya know? I’ve never stolen socks or shoes or anything like that, either. I do the usual Sit, Stay stuff, but I don’t do tricks. An I don’t play fetch. When Dad throws the ball (humans really seem to like to do that) I always haff to ruh-mind him that I’m NOT a re-TREE-ver.
“I don’t go to the dog park much cuz I sometimes accidently intimidate liddle pooches when I bounce over to see if they wanna play. I don’t mean to scare ’em. I guess it’s cuz I’m kinda of a big grrrl.
“Oh, an I DO NOT LIKE WATER, ’cept in my bowl. Probly cuz back when I was liddle, there was this huge sorta plastic thing on the ground in the yard and I’d run back-an-forth across it. Dad called it The Pool Cover. WELL, one day, I started runnin’ across it as usual an, PLOP, I fell inna big buncha water an Dad hadda fish me out. It was traw-MADDIC! Now I don’t even like baths.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” I said sympathetically. “Any pooch pals?”
“I’m very social,” she said. “So far, I can be frens with any animal, once I get to know them. Humans, too. Me an Spirit Schaeffer – she’s a Golden ReTREEver anna snowbirddog – have been BFFs for 5 winters now. I had fun runnin’ around with Dad’s fren’s dog Eloise when we were in Carlsbad; an in Pencil-VANE-yuh I play with Cousin Lauren’s two liddle bitty poocheroos, Coco an Jasper.
“One time I encountered this funny-lookin’ liddle animal just walkin’ around in the grass: no fur, just a liddle round body, a buncha feet, two big sorta grabby claws in front, an boogly eyes.
Dad said it was a Crab an to not get close. This other time, one of ’em climbed up all 16 of our front steps. I was gonna go ask it what it wanted, but Dad quickly scooped it up, put it inna box and took it to the river.”
“Thanks so much for sharing your story,” I said as the innerview concluded.
Heading home I was thinkin’ about Miss Philly’s many adventures with her Dad, an how Cool Kibbles it is for her to be wearin’ Reggie’s leash an harness in his honor.
Till next time,