Woof, did I ever have a Crispy Dog Biscuits adventure this week, yappin’ with a rescue Australian Shepherd mix, Codie Picornell, an his pals.
Codie lives onna 1.5-acre ranch, an he’s – wait for it – a CO-pie-lutt for a pooch rescue. I KNOW!
Me an my assistant parked along the road cuz the gate was latched. Codie, a lady, an a skinny red merle shepherd-lookin’ pooch greeted us, and let us in through a side gate.
“Welcome! We keep the big gate closed on accounta the sheep are out. Just come on through. I’m Codie. This is my pal, Hunter. He’s been sick but he’s gettin’ much better. This is our Mom, Pat. Our Dad Kiko’s workin’ onna Special Project.”
“Great to meet you all. This is some Cool Kibbles place you have here!”
There was a house an a couple of neat an tidy smaller buildings, a grassy lawn with tall, skinny pine trees, an lotsa roomy pens an stalls, each area with a nice horse fence. Three sheep, two white an one black, were munchin’ grass. It was as close as I’d ever been to sheep.
“Hey, guys,” Codie hollered. “Come meet Bonzo. He’s innerviewin’ me for the PAY-per.”
The plump, woolly trio trotted over an nose-bumped my Assistant, who immediately started pattin’ their heads. I wasn’t familiar with dog-sheep protocol, but I was fairly sure it didn’t involve a wag-and-sniff.
“Bonz, meet BaaBaa, Chewy an Ajax,” Codie said.
“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Bonzo,” said BaaBaa. “If you wanna practice a liddle herding, we’re always up for it, aren’t we, Codie?”
“Totally,” said Codie. “But Bonzo’s on the clock.”
“Thanks, fellas,” I called after them as they went back to munchin.’ “So, Codie, I unnerstand you fly!” We talked as he gave me a liddle tour.
“Mom an Dad are PIE-lutts. They’re inna Cool Dog Biscuits group called PIE-lutts for Paws. They fly all over inna Rockwell Commander 114, pickin’ up rescue pooches an deliverin’ ’em to groups who find ’em Forever Families. That’s how we met, back in 2015. I was in one of the litters they rescued in Alabama, an flew down to a shelter in South Florida. Mom ’specially likes Shepherdy pooches, an also liked how cool an laid-back I was, even as a fluffmuffin puppy. Soon as I got all checked out (an got the No Puppies Procedure), Mom an Dad adopted me an another Shepherdy pooch, Parker.”
I was takin’ notes like crazy. Codie stopped at a shady, fenced area to innerduce a coupla pals. A donkey anna mini horse came up to the fence, an looked me an my assistant up and down.
“Bonzo, meet Poppy, she’s the donkey, an this young lady is Daisy.”
Like the others, the pretty pair extended nose bumps through the fence. “Are you gonna mention us in your column, Mr. Bozo?” Poppy asked.
“Oh, silly,” said Daisy. “It’s BONzo, not Bozo. Are you, Mr. Bonzo? Gonna mention us?
“Absolutely, ladies.”
We paused atta big fenced-in area with a roomy, covered shed. A bunch of chiggens were runnin’ around, an there were goats anna coupla dogs also, just hangin’ out. Nobody seemed upset. Nobody was chasin’ anybody. Codie musta noticed my surprise.
“Yeah, we all get along here. We’re totally post-species. When a new foster arrives, the rest of The Pack (that’s all of us) help ’em feel comfubble and not scared. Sometimes they’ve gone through Difficult Times, and we help ’em relax, fit in.
“The other day, the chiggens were actin’ goofy, havin’ a Major Cluckfest, circlin’ the wagons, so to speak. The goats were pacin’ around, too, an us pooches smelled bobcat. So Mom put Parker an Birdie (he’s the blue merle over there) in the pen so that ol’ bobcat would pick up The Dog Scent and have the good sense to skedaddle. We’ve had a few chiggens Buy the Henhouse. You can’t be too careful.”
By then, the goats had come over to the fence to check us out an nibble my Assistant’s satchel.
“Hi, I’m Jeff. These doofs are Billy, Buddy an Boo. Billy, you KNOW we don’t nibble humans’ Stuff.”
“Mmphff! Sorry. My baaad. It’s just so INNERsting.” He gave the satchel a final slurp. My assistant laughed and patted his head.
“Hey, Codie, aren’tcha gonna innerduce ME?” came a liddle voice. I felt a small nudge against my legs. I looked down. A liddle brownish gray tabby cat was lookin’ up at me.
Codie obliged. “Bonzo, meet Miss Squirt.”
“Delighted,” I told her, congratulating myself on how suavely I had reacted to a cat rubbing against my legs, since (I realized) it was the first time I’d ever actually touched a cat.
Just then, their Mom’s phone beeped. A conversation ensued. “Well,” said Codie, “Looks like we’ll be heading out tomorrow. Pickin’ up 15 or 20 pupsters in Valdosta. Flyin’ ’em down to Palm Beach, probly.”
“You sure have an excitin’ life.”
“It is that. I just feel so grateful to be able to give back. I know what it’s like to be a rescue. An it isn’t only dogs. We’ve also rescued cats. Even guinea pigs.”
“Are you woofin’?”
“Nope. If a domestic animal needs to be rescued, and they can fit in our planes, we’re there.”
I was getting more impressed by the second. “Where do you sleep? Any special pals?”
“I mostly sleep with Mom an Dad. My BFFs are a coupla Goldens rescued from China, I believe: Echo an Djin. Echo’s totally deaf. That’s why we’re all wearin’ bells, so we won’t startle her.”
“I had noticed the bells. That is So Cool Kibbles.”
Heading home, I was thinkin’ about Codie flyin’ around, rescuin’ other pets the way he’d been rescued. An about all those animals living together in harmony. That’s really something to think about.
Till next time,
The Bonz
