Bonz looks up to the ‘Great’ Johnny Walker Blue

This week’s innerview was with a Big (125 pounds), Ferocious-Looking pooch, Johnny Walker Blue Zoller, a Great Dane/Pit mix. He looks like the kinda pooch you’d see workin’ as a bouncer in the Howlin’ Hound Pub. If he hadn’t Woofmailed me a picksure of himself wearing fluffy bunny ears with pink feathers, I wudda been a liddle appreHENsive.

But, as it turned out, Johnny Walker Blue Zoller is a cool, amiable marshmallow, who likes Tummy Rubs.

Him an his Mom, Stephanie, greeted me an my assistant, an we got all comftubble.

“You can call me Johnny,” he said. “My Daddy’s Michael. He’s an Air Force PIE-lut. He teaches ROTC, an knows a buncha complicated space stuff, called air-uh-not-icks.”


“I KNOW! He’s Way Cool Kibbles. I’m a Daddy’s Boy. He sometimes lets me wear his dogtags! I can’t wait for him to get home: I grab my Best Bone an run to the door to greet him. It’s an o-CAY-shun!”

Johnny has long legs, big pointy ears, one blue an one brown eye, an a short coat in silvery gray, but it’s called blue.

“So how’d you find your Forever Family?”

“My first Dad was a NAY-burr. Back then, I’d hang out in the front yard an growl at the humans walking by. Of course, I would never DO anything, I was just Protecting the Perimeter. But, well, I know I can look kinda scary …”

“You got THAT right,” I inner-jected.

“Anyway, when Mommy an Daddy walked by (before they knew the Real Me), THEY were a liddle scared, too. I always thought they looked like Very Nice Humans, but I had my Growly Job to do. A few months later, Mommy an Daddy were at that big celebration, the Mell-burn Founders Day Festival, and There I Was, onna leash, hangin’ out with a buncha kids, chill as anything. An there was this sign: ‘Free To Good Home.’ Well, Mommy an Daddy almost couldn’t buh-LEEVE it was ME. What happened was, my Dad got CAN-ser an hadda move an couldn’t take me. He was a good Dad an I wish I cudda helped him somehow.

“Anyway, turns out my Forever Daddy usta have a pooch who was even huger than me (Winston, a 140-pound Bull Mastiff), so Daddy was familiar with Big Pooches. Him an Mommy hadda dis-CUSH-un, an they decided to adopt me, Thank Lassie! I was 3-ish then. Now I’m 10-ish.”

“Woof! That was a Majorly Lucky Coincidence. I think it was Meant To Be.”

“Me, too. Totally. I learned the house rools pretty fast, cuz Dad knows how to teach stuff so you Never Forget. I know my Boundries and I Never Touch Anything on the Counter.

“Whenever I hafta go outside to Do My Duty, I use my special wooo-wooo bark to alert Mommy and Daddy. After dark, right before bed, I Multi-Task. I do a Perimeter Check: walk all the way around our backyard fence, check every nook and cranny to secure the household AND, at the same time, I potty (No. 1 only), all the way around.”

“That is So Smart!” I told him. “And efficient.”

“Thank you, Bonzo! I thought of it myself.”

“What’s your day like?”

“Well, we usually go onna leash walk, check out the neighborhood. I usta drag Mommy around before I learned Leash Manners. Now I walk politely, a liddle behind.”

I noticed he was doin’ a lotta munchin’ on a soggy, stuffed animal (species undiscernable). When he began rippin’ its extremities, his Mom removed it and admonished, “Don’t rip.”

“Well, poo,” he said. “I keep forgetting. I enjoy munchin’ my toys, but sometimes I get carried away. What I REALLY love is swimmin’! Me an Daddy play Frisbee in the pool. At the beach, I spend hours bodysurfing. (But I don’t ride in the car as offen anymore, cuzza Hip Issues.) Still, swimmin’ is Cool Kibbles! YOU’RE a Spaniel. YOU know what I’m talkin’ about!”

“I sure do,” I agreed. “Any special pooch pals?”

“Not many. I don’t get a lotta chances to make frens, cuz most pooches are scared of me. My one pooch fren is Taco, who isn’t the slightest bit afraid. He’s a chihuahua. My head probly weighs more than his entire body, but I don’t think he even notices. We have a lotta fun. He can crawl right under me.

“My other pals are the Backyard Squirrel Bunch. Mommy feeds ’em an the Blue Jays every morning, when I’m usually outside, an those squirrels just run right up an jump all over me. Doesn’t bother me a bit. They’re lotsa fun, ackshully. Same with the birds. They know I’m not gonna hurt ’em.

“Aside from Mommy an Daddy, my human Bestie is Bryant. I call him my Udder Brudder. He’s goin’ in the Air Force like Daddy pretty soon. When he calls Mommy an Daddy, I get to talk to him, too. We do Phone Barks. When he lived here, he was my Bed Buddy.”

“So, whaddya like to eat?”

“Pizza crust! I’m a Daddy’s Boy except when Mommy’s in the kitchen. Then I’m a Mommy’s Boy. If she’s not there at Supper Time, I nudge her in, an follow her around in case she drops anything. But my absolutely favrite snack is fat-free Fig Newtons!”

“Fat-free Fig … seriously?”

“Don’t knock ’em ’til you’ve tried ’em. You might be surprised. And, for an Alpo treat, I do my rooTINE.” Johnny an his Mommy demonstrated. He Bowed. Sat. An SPOKE! It was like he had back-up singers. His bark was so impressive, I dropped my pencil.”

“That’s a nice big mat you got there. Is that where you sleep?”

“No. I have my own bed in Mommy an Daddy’s room. But, full disclosure, when Daddy goes to work, I creep in with Mommy.”

Heading home, I was thinkin’ how we all should remember not to judge anybody by how they look. And wonderin’ if Gramma might have a fat-free Fig Newton stashed away that I could try.

Till next time,

The Bonz

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