I’m thinkin’ all you pooches who enjoy chasing sticks are having lotsa fun recently cuzza the over-uh-BUN-dunce of sticks all over everywhere. Am I right? (If I were you, I probly wouldn’t fetch any that were heaped up in big piles by the street. Just sayin’.)
This week I innerviewed BFFs Presley Rau an Indy Hardee, who live right on the river. Presley, a stylish English bulldog with that wonderful squishy face, greeted me an my assistant.
“Welcome, Bonz! Make yourself comfy. This is my Mom, Kenna, an Indy’s Dad, Danny. It’s gonna be fun tellin’ you about our famly an all our ad-VEN-churs an …”
Suddenly Presley sprung to his feet, jumped behind the couch an hollered “DUCK!!!”
I yelped in suh-prize, my notebook went flyin’, an I dived behind the couch.
“What the woof was …” I began, then realized Presley was laughin’.
‘GOTCHA!” he said. “Works every time!”
“Beg pardon?”
“Sorry, Bonz. We couldn’t resist,” Presley said. “I’d like you to meet my liddle brother an Bestie, Indy Hardee.”
By the time I came out from behind the couch an retreeved my notebook, a snowy white duck was standing next to Presley: orange bill an swim-fin feet, red ID ankle band, deep blue eyes, one curvy tail feather that stood out from the others, and he was makin’ nonstop raspy sounds. Even though I’m not what you could call conversant in Duck, I KNEW he was laughin’, too.
The two shared a congratulatory High Paw/High Wing, an I agreed, “You guys got me good. This is gonna be a fun innerview!”
We gathered around the kitchen counter: In Indy’s case, ON the counter, standing arrow-straight on a large Pet Pee Pad.
“I’ll be the Spokesduck,” he announced.
“An I’ll chime in as needed,” Presley added.
“Stop me if I’m talking too fast,” said Indy.
“Ackshully,” I replied, “I thought you ducks did a lotta, well, Quacking, but …”
“Lemme just press pause right now,” Indy interrupted. “Only the lady ducks quack. Us drakes (guy ducks) don’t Quack. We do this other stuff, called rasping. An only us drakes have this Fashion Forward curvy tail feather.”
“Got it! Thanks,” I acknowledged.
“I’m 2 now. An I’m ackshully Dad’s second duck named Indy. He picked the name cuz he drives really fast race cars an Indy’s the name of one of the racing places. When Indy 1 went to Water Fowl Heaven 2 years ago, right away Dad really missed havin’ a duck buddy. No suh-prise. I mean, us ducks are Very Smart AN hansome. Speshully my spee-cees, the Pekin Duck. (We’re also very duh-lishus, but we won’t get into that.) Anyway, Dad went to a duck store in Bartow an picked me, a fuzzy yellow pingpong ball of fluff, 5 days old, fresh outta my egg. Cuzza being newly hatched, I did the duck thing of imprinting on the first cree-chur to give me foodstuffs an cuddles.
Which was Dad. He’s Totally Top Duck! He had a cozy liddle spot for me in his car an I just sat there all the way home. I’ve ridden in every one of Dad’s vee-hickles! Now my biggest goal is to ride inna plane.”
“When did you an Presley meet?”
Presley entered the conversation. “It was about 2 years ago, when his Dad met my Mom, Kenna.”
(He nudged the lady standing beside him.) “She got me in a whole other state, MISH-uh-gin, when I was just a pupper. I’m 7 now.
“When we first met, I was like ‘Leave me alone, Featherface.’ But the silly liddle fluffball just kept bouncin’ up to me. So, after about 5 months, I started thinkin’ of him like a baby brother. Now we’re Total Brothers Under the Fur an Feathers. I watch over him when we go out, on the beach or wherever we run into my dog buddies. See, Indy’s the kinda duck that can’t fly. They’re way too heavy for their liddle wings.” (He leaned in closer an lowered his voice.) “That’s cuzza bein’ raised for, you know, foodstuffs for humans. Which I don’t even like to think about.”
“Woof! I guess not!” I smoothly changed the subject. “Do you guys play together?”
“We hang out together, but I’m more, shall I say, sedentary,” Presley replied. “My favrite activities are sunbathin’, rollin’ in the grass, an nappin’. I tried to learn to swim but I kept sinking like a rock. Mom even got me floaties, but swimmin’ just isn’t my thing. I do wear a life jacket when we go out in the boat.”
“WELL, swimmin’ is MY thing,” Indy piped up. “Me an Dad dive all the way down under the water an swim around together. WAY fun! An jet skiin’. One time we came across this guy whose boat wouldn’t go. It was just driftin’. So me an Dad towed him in on our jet ski!
“Yep,” noted Presley, “We’re Boat Peeple. Every weekend we go out on the boat. I lounge on deck, an Indy swims. If we’re with a buncha other Boat Peeple, he swims from boat to boat for snacks an pats.”
“Oh, an last month,” Indy said with pride, “I got to be the Flower Boy for our frens Gary an Ceci’s wedding. I wore a flower wreath anna bow tie.”
“What about bedtime? Fave foodstuffs?” I inquired.
“I sleep with my special blanket, an Ellie, my elephant stuffy. I’m not puh-TICK-u-ler about food, but I do enjoy alligator-shaped Whimzee snacks,” admitted Presley.
“Me, I love MEALY worms, dried OR wiggly,” said Indy. “Also MINN-ows. Dad pours ’em inna bowl of water an I can slurp 4 dozen minnows in 15 seconds. Us ducks sleep with one eye open, cuzza being close to the bottom of the food chain.”
Heading home, I was thinkin’ about my two fun new frens, an pickshurin’ Indy onna plane, orange legs dangling, seatbelt fastened an a liddle bag of crispy mealyworms on the tray table in front of him.
Till next time,
