This week I yapped with a retiree, Zeke Sparks. Zeke’s story gave me the Total Willies, but it had a happy ending, thank Lassie. And it sure reminded me how lucky I am.
Zeke’s a black Shih Tzu: good lookin’ poocheroo, upbeat an fren-ly. Him and his Mom and Dad are from Buffalo, Way Up North, where you gotta bundle up so you won’t freeze your Kazoo off. Now they’re Snowbirds (Zeke’s a Snowbirddog), an they drive down here in an RV (you know, a cool house on wheels), an stay in this real pretty campground with trees an lotsa pooches.
When me an my Assistant drove up, all three of ’em were out front to greet us. “Hi there Bonz! Did you find us OK? Great to meetcha! This is my Mom, Karen, and my Dad, George. Come’on, we’ll go yap inside.”
I got out my notebook, and Zeke hopped up on a chair next to his Mom and Dad. “Ready when you are,” I said.
“Stop me if I yap too fast,” he said. “I’m about 6 now. I was adopted April 3, 2012. I remember the date because I was an hour away from Buyin’ the Doghouse.”
“Say wha-at? An HOUR?”
“Yep. I was wandering homeless on the streets of Buffalo when I got scooped up and taken to Dog Jail. After a month, with no prospects, the shelter people de-TER-munned I was Not Adoptable, so I got scheduled to be Put Down.”
I got a chill.
“Shelter dogs knew what that means. Humans think we don’t, but WE KNOW. The Day came, and I was cowering behind my water bowl and wouldn’t come out. THEN some people from a place called Black Dog Rescue swooped in and saved me. I got a lovely bath an a chip an a haircut an the No-Puppies Procedure. Then I was Ready! But I didn’t know what for.
“That’s when my Nana Elaine saw me and told her Dad (who I now call Daddy Rex), an he called his friends, my Mom and Dad (they were down here) and told ’em I was The Dog For Them. So, Black Dog didn’t put me up for adoption. They put me On Hold so Mom and Dad could meet me when they got back to Buffalo, and The Shelter could make sure Mom and Dad’d be Good Pooch Parents. They hadda have references and everything. As it turns out, I’d been well trained. After we got past that one little incident where I Did My Doodie in the basement cuz I didn’t know where I was s’pose to go, I got to join the family.”
“Woof! That’s some story, Zeke!” I exclaimed. “How’d you come by your name?”
“Well, first, Nana Elaine called me Miller, after a goalie for the Buffalo Sabres (that’s hockey, ya know). But Mom and Dad decided to call me Zeke, which is okey-dokey with me.”
“So, Zeke, got any food favs?”
“Ar you woofin’ me? I love chicken, and Milk-Bone, of course!”
“Why, ‘of course’?” I queried.
“Because, Milk-Bone’s made in BUFFALO! I get to sit at the table, too. I have my own chair and placemat and dish. And I am VERY polite. I NEVER steal food from other plates. Or beg. And I’m tidy. When the family gets together for Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner, they don’t even ask why there’s a dog at the table, any more. I mean, after all, I AM FAM-ly.
“What do ya do for fun?”
“Us guys watch the Bills’ and Sabres’ games on TV. When we’re Up North, we take the RV to the Bills games. An I have lots of pals, ’specially little kids. One of my human Besties is Riley. She walks me A LOT. In fact, one time, me and Dad were leash walkin’ and this little kid asked Dad why he was walkin’ Riley’s dog. In Buffalo, my pooch pals are Zsa Zsa and Buddy. I love to camp in St. Augustine cuz they have pet-friendly beaches. Restaurants, too. At my favorite one, the chef comes out to see how I liked my meal.”
“I like goin’ go out in the boat, an I have my own boogie board for the pool. When Mom rides her bike, she stuffs me in the basket an I navigate. There’s a special plate on it that says “SPOILD-1.” I’m also a pretty snazzy dresser; got outfits for Up North an down here: a sweater an a parka an boots, an a Hawaiian shirt, an, of course, a Bills T-shirt for goin’ to the games. At Christmas, I wear a Santa suit an deliver a nice basket of people treats to my vet’s office. I think it’s important to show appreciation.
“I also help Mom an Dad shop. When they were getting new furniture for our RV, they took me to the store to help ’em choose. They wouldn’t buy anything unless I gave it a Paws Up.
“Makes sense,” I commented.
“Once, at Disney World, I hadda stay in the pet accommodations, which are Totally Awesome Dog Biscuits. I just loved the handler. I was havin’ a great time, but Mom and Dad spent most of their time watching me on the video monitor. I told ’em they had to go out on their own sooner or later. I think they were havin’ separation anxiety.”
“I hear ya,” I agreed.
Heading home I was thinking about Zeke’s Close Call, and how it all turned out for The Best. And assessing my chances of getting my own seat at the table, and placemat and plate. I almost fell over laughing.
Till next time,
The Bonz
