This week I yapped with a sweet liddle 9-year-old Pekingese, Ginger Bertekap. We took an ELLY-vader up to Ginger’s place, which has a pah-dee-o right on the ocean. Seriously Cool Kibbles.
Ginger’s Mom was holding her when they answered our knock.
“Good after-NOON, Mr. Bonzo!” she said, as she got settled on her Mom’s lap. “I’m Ginger Cookie Bertekap, Queen of the House. You may call me Ginger. This is my Mommy, Carole. My Daddy, Jerry, is swimmin.’ I’m afraid I don’t DO Wag-an-Sniffs. No offense. IT’s just that my previous experiences have made me dislike boy pooches, as a rule. I hope you unnerstand. But I’m SO happy YOU’RE here. I always wah-ned to meet a journalist. Your pickshur makes you look so nice. An smart. See, I’m wearing my most favrite dress special for you. I just got my Summer Haircut, so Mommy can’t put my hair ribbons in.”
“It’s a pleasure, Miss Ginger. You look lovely!” She did, in fact, look lovely in a ruffly dress with pink flamingos on it. “I’m eager to hear your story,” I said. “How did you meet your Forever Family?”
“Well, I hafta say, it was a Close Call. I lived inna Puppy Mill in Tennessee run by Not Very Nice humans. I was what’s called a Breeder. I never got any hugs, or pats, never hadda famly, just kept havin’ puppies as fast as I could, but I never got to know their Daddys or any of my puppies, either. It was AW-ful. I had a HER-nee-uh, an lotsa teeth missing. Then, when I couldn’t have enough puppies, they were gonna, you know, throw me out like an ol’ sock. But, at the last minute, I got saved by a rescue group, an my pickshur got put On Line.
“Mommy an Daddy were livin’ in New Jersey, an they saw my pickshur, an wanted me cuz I looked so calm an sweet. An because of my Cuteness. So they filled out this long app-luh-ca-shun. Five other famlies filled out app-luh-ca-shuns too but, Thank Lassie, Mommy an Daddy got picked. So they drove to a church parking lot in Bridgewater, New Jersey, to collect me. There were 25 other famlies also pickin’ up their pooches from the rescue place: older humans, young humans, famlies with liddle kids, too.”
“Woof, that musta been confusing,” I said.
“It WAS. I had no idea what was gonna happen. But then, when Mommy an Daddy picked me up an snuggled me, I right away knew I was gonna be OK. I was well-behaved on the car ride to my new home: alluva sudden, I had my own FAM-ly. My own DISH. My own HOUSE. An this big green, tickly place with no roof or walls, called a YARD. An a big buncha water, called a LAKE. Woof, was that ever fun, once I got used to it. There was lots to learn: like how to play, an how to leash walk.
“I’m still havin’ a liddle trouble rememberin’ where to Do My Duty. I just can’t get used to pottyin’ outSIDE. On GRASS. But I’m duh-termined. Plus, I don’t ackshully cuddle with Mommy an Daddy. I just never learned that. But I always wanna be wherever they are.”
“Seems like it was meant to be,” I told her. “An now you’re in an apartment. No yard, an a much bigger buncha water. What’s that like?”
“Crispy Dog Biscuits! I have two fluffy beds, anna comfy crate (I’m fuh-MILL-yer with crates cuz I lived in one all my life til Mommy an Daddy adopted me). I have lots of stuffy toys. They’re my babies. I was a Mommy so long an never got to cuddle my puppies, so now I take good care of my stuffy toys. I line ’em up inna row. I have a big lamm, a liddle lamm, a ger-RAFF, two hedgehogs, an a green duck.
“Ooo, an I have this special stroller, see?” Her Mom wheeled it out. It was Totally Cool Kibbles: all pink an comftubble -lookin.’
“I go everywhere in it, like stores an rest-runts. Humans are always comin’ up sayin’ how cute I am. We’re goin’ to Squid Lips tomorrow. My fav-rite rest-runt’s Latin Flavor. You’ wouldn’t buh-leeve the wunnerful smells!”
“Any pooch frens?”
“Oh, yes. But only girls. Me an Little Bit have play dates. She’s a chuh-waa-waa. Her human’s my dogsitter. Mommy an Daddy drop me off with all my stuff inna bag: my bed, 2 babies, bowl, food, chewy bone, leash an harness. Me an Little Bit play an play an before I know it, Mommy an Daddy are back.”
“Do you play on the beach much? You’re so close.”
“Not my thing. When it’s cooler, I sit on the balcony and watch it. I couldn’t go down there anyway cuzza all the turtle nests. I watch the babies headin’ for the ocean, an wish ’em good luck.”
“I greatly admire your beautiful dress. Any others?”
“Of course! Here, look!” Ginger’s Mom brought out a colorful pile: an orange-an-white checked harness (stylish, I thought); a polka-dot dress that said ‘Maybe I’m a Mermaid’; a sleepy shirt with flamingos; a pink-an-green dress that looked like a watermelon, with seeds even.
“Any food favorites?”
“I love eatin’! Dinnertime is 5:30 p.m. At 3:30 I begin my ‘Is It Time Yet? Wiggle Dance,’ to be sure Mommy an Daddy don’t forget.”
“Like THAT’s ever gonna happen,” I thought.
“Also,” she continued, “I have eye issues, so I get DROPS, which I don’t like. At All. So I get a treat after the drops.”
Heading home, I was thinkin’ how wonderful it is that Ginger has such a happy life after goin’ through so much bad stuff. Now she can nap and tend to her Stuffy Babies, an do her Wiggle Dance and know she’s Totally Loved. I was also wonderin’ what my chances are of getting taken out to dinner at a rest-runt. I’m thinkin’ – slim to none.
Till next time,
The Bonz
