This week I had a fun yap with Miles an Mac Yarina, who are as close as ackshul litter brothers, even though they’re not. When me an my assistant rang, we heard some Serious Barkage, so we sorta expected a coupla Big Burly Pooches. But no.
Miles Yarina [Kaila Jones/ 32963]
Amidst a good bit of frenly barkin’ an Wag-n-Sniffs all ’round, I introduced myself an my assistant.
“I’m Miles,” said the Brittany, “an this is my liddle brother, Mac. We’re rescues. An this is our Forever Mom, Gloria.”
“It’s a pleasure,” I told them. “An I must say, you have Excellent Watch Dog Barks.”
“Thanks, Dog!” said Miles.
“Mine’s scarier than his!” piped up Mac.
“Well, they both sounded plenty Watch Doggie from outside,” I said quickly. “So, I’m eager to hear your stories.”
“Me first,” said Miles. They flopped down on the couch next to their Mom. Miles rested his head on Mac’s caboose and began.
“I was a stray rescue. Mom adopted me as cumpnee for Jen – a Brittany like me – cuz Jen’s two rescue brothers had both gone to Dog Heaven. Jen was a wunnerful Big Sister, but then she hadda go to Dog Heaven, too. I missed her so much. But I’m a total Mamma’s Boy, so I was doin’ OK mostly. Bein’ a Dog Person, Mom always did a lotta Dog Fosterin,’ an this silly fluffmuffin was one of our Fosters.”
He nudged Mac, and Mac licked his nose.
“Mom wanted to expand our famly, an she thought a girl rescue Brittany would be good for me. But there was just something about Mac.”
“Yep! I’m special!” Mac innerjected. “An it’s MY turn to tell MY story. It’s REAL draMAtic.” He sat up.
“Go for it!” said Miles.
“My tail begins in a Walmart parking lot in Pensacola. Some human had me for sale for the low, low price of $10. I was around 4, but real scrawny and fulla fleas. I figured I probly wouldn’t make it to 5. But guess what? An animal shelter human happened to see me and ackshully bought me, even though I wasn’t even worth 10 cents, probly. She took me home an gave me a lovely bath – my first one. I loved it. Then she took me to a pooch doctor so I could get healthy enough for a Forever Home. It was a liddle scary, but the humans were real nice.
“Trouble was, they found out I had heartworms, which is Real Serious, plus it costs a lotta munny. Since I looked sorta like a Boykin span-yull or a Cocker span-yull, except liddler, the shelter lady called a Boykin anna Cocker rescue, tryin’ to find me a foster home till I could get better. Here’s the Totally Cool Dog Biscuits part, Mr. Bonzo. They found MOM to foster me, thank Lassie! An they delivered me here, to Mom an Miles!”
I admit, I hadda wipe my eyes with my paw. I noticed Miles did, too, an he gave Mac a liddle nose bump.
“Yep,” said Miles. “This liddle goofball was so happy an loving an well-behaved. (An housebroken, which was a real plus.) The very first day he arrived, I was sitting on the couch as usual, an here came this scrawny, weak liddle guy – jumped right up next to me an snuggled up. An that was that. Me an Mom knew he belonged in our famly. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a girl or a Brittany. He has what humans call kuh-RIZZ-muh.
“We all worked together to get him heartworm free. Buh-leeve me, the hardest part was keepin’ him quiet till he was Totally Better.”
“What a great story!” I said. “So what’s your life like now?”
“We do laps around our backyard,” said Mac. “It’s all fenced, an there are bushes too, so we make our own agility course. Well, me mostly. I’m smaller, but speedier. When we go out at night, I hafta have a light on my collar cuz, being all black, I’m totally invisible. In the daytime, we chase squirrels. I try to climb trees after ’em. I can jump really high. We never do catch ’em, though. We play tug-of-war with our toys but we don’t rip them to shreds like other pooches do. We can even toss ’em in the air an CATCH ’em. We’re QUICK!”
“Ackshully,” said Miles, “Mac is quick. Mom calls him a Per-PET-chewull Puppy. I’m much more chill.”
“Also,” Mac added proudly, “I’M the Official Watchdog. I patrol from window to window to make sure there aren’t any Bad Guys. Mom puts stools by the windows so I can ackshully see out.”
“What are you sleeping arrangements?” I inquired.
“We have nice big kennels with lotsa cozy mats,” said Miles.
“Miles snores!” said Mac.
“Humpf!” said Miles.
How about treats?” I asked.
“FROZEN BREAD!” they both responded.
“Mom freezes stale bagels or pita bread,” said Miles.
“We also like frozen watermelon and pineapple, an cooked carrots,” added Mac.
“Do you travel much?” I wondered.
“Not much. We do like car rides. We both have seatbelts, of course,” said Miles. “When Mom hasta go out, she always gives us each a cookie first. I’m cool with it, but Mac sometimes has Separation Anxiety, so he won’t touch his cookie till Mom gets back. Go figure.”
Heading home, I was thinking about how many Pooches Less Fortunate are saved when humans decide to rescue or adopt. Not just mixes an mutts, but also fullbreds, can need rescuing. I was also thinking about frozen bagels.
Till next time,
The Bonz
Main image: Mac Yarina [Kaila Jones/ 32963]
