This week I met Geoffrey an Rudy Dougan-Pophal, an learned some new stuff about poodles. Geoffrey’s a tall, long-leggedy Standard Poo, very dignified looking. He weighs about 50 pounds an he’s gettin’ up there, 12 anna half in human, but still quite active. Rudy, on the other paw, is a Toy Poo, very puppy-ish, an eee-ger. He greeted me an my assistant puh-lightly, came right up for the wag-an-sniff.
As the Official Famly Watchpooch, Geoffrey was suspicious at first, till he decided we were legit. As the eldest, he was also Spokespooch. Originally from West Virginia, he had this Cool Kibbles way of talkin’.
“No offense. You cain’t be too careful these days. I’m Geoffrey; this is my liddle brother, Rudy, an our Momma Cindy. Mommy Kim’s workin’. So, Welcome! Y’all come on in.”
We did.
“Thank you, Geoffrey. I’ve always admired you Poodles’ coats. So stylish.”
“Well, thankew, Mr. Bonzo. We purty much keep to simple, unfussy styles. When I was a young’un I was orange. Then I changed to white. Humans call it Cream.”
I told him I’d never seen a poodle the color of Rudy (a real nice dark red). “What do humans call that?” I inquired.
“Red,” he said.
“Yep!” innerjected Rudy. “That’s why Momma an Mommy named me Rudy. Also, cuz I can leap like Rudolph, that Christmas deer with the stuffed-up nose. Watch!”
He executed several nice leaps.
“Impressive!” I told him, opening my notebook. “So, how ’bout you fellas tell me how you all got together.”
“I reckon I’ll start,” said Geoffrey. “Rudy’s still a young’un and gits a mite distracted, right Rudy?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry!” Rudy poked his head out from behind a chair.
“Momma an Mommy are a hundert percent Poodle People,” Geoffrey began. “They had Katie an Artie (Poos, uh-course) who were Gittin’ Up There, an they were lookin’ fer a pupster to kinda energize ’em. Mommy saw an ad fer me, the last o’ my lidder. I was about 3 months old, still orange. I was also a mite shy. Took ’em about two shakes to decide, even before they met me in the fur. They got me that very night.
“Katie an Artie were real kind. Showed me around right away; treated me like I was kin; Katie was always motherin’ me.
“I learnt the rools purdy quick, ’cept fer chewin’. Not shoes or sox, though. Just remotes. All of ’em. I drug ’em into a hidin’ place an, well … Momma an Mommy spent a lotta time at WalMart buyin’ new ones. They still have three put back, just in case, but I’m plumb over that now.
“Back in The Day, I was uh fuh-RO-shus ball player. I could fly acrosst the grass, sail through the air. Sometimes when I landed it’d pert-nigh knock the wind outta me!”
“Woof, Geoffrey!”
“When Katie an Artie hadda go to Dog Heaven, I was sad for quite a spell, so Momma an Mommy got me a buddy, Tyler, a rescue Poo. Me an him were best buddies, two peas inna pod. I ’member, one time, right before Christmas, we got inna a big ol’ pile of mud, just wrastlin’ around, havin’ FUN. Momma an Mommy were a mite het up, an told us Santa’d be flyin’ right by and not stoppin’. But they hosed us off an Santa came!”
“’Scuse me,” Rudy piped up. “I wanna tell about ME! It’s My Turn now, right Geoffrey?”
“I reckon it is, Rudy,” said Geoffrey, curling up by his Momma.
“OK, ready, Mr. Bonzo?”
“Go for it, Rudy!”
“So – I was born just this January, over in St. Cloud. It was for-TOO-wuh-tuss cuz Mommy had decided she wanted a red Poodle, an the breeder lady had three of us. Mommy an Momma an Gracie drove over to see us an …”
“Who’s Gracie?”
“Oh, she’s Queen of the House. She’s a Party Poo. Mommy says, when she was a puppy, she was only 2 pounds, the size of a Pepsi can. GRACIE!!!!”
Out from behind the couch came a tiny poodle with beautiful gray an black design fur, called Harlequin. (I Googled.) She walked daintily up to me. “I am, indeed, Queen of the House. I bid you welcome. I like to keep a low, quiet profile.”
“An honor, Your Majesty!”
She nodded regally and returned from whence she had come.
Without missing a beat, Rudy continued. “So, Momma an Mommy an Gracie met me an we all agreed I was The Puppy for Them. At first, I’d bounce around on Geoffrey cuz I wanted to play. When I got a liddle annoying, he’d just nose bump me an I’d topple over. Now he’s my mentor. I follow him around an learn stuff from him. We Hang Out, which makes me feel like a grown-up pooch. Since he’s old, he hasta take a lotta meds, so I’m careful an puh-light. Geoffrey’s my Idol.
“I sit by the window an watch the humans an dogs go by. I sometimes grab a toy right outta Gracie’s paws, which I’m tryin’ to learn NOT to DO. I’m also fond of Branches. Big Ones. Sometimes I can’t even get ’em through the door. Oh, an,” (he lowered his voice) “I’m still workin’ on Where to Do My Duty. It’s not easy. Was that hard for you to learn, Mr. Bonzo?”
“Don’t worry, Rudy. We’ve all gone through it. You’ll get it,” I assured him.
“Oooh, an guess what? My famly drives up to Georgia every year. Geoffrey says it’s way fun. There’s a creek, anna cabin an LOTSA branches. I get to go next year. I can’t wait!”
I coulda stayed all afternoon. Heading home, I was thinking what a fun, joyful blended famly Geoffrey, Rudy, an Gracie have. An about how, from generation to generation, older pooches guide the younger ones; teach ’em Important Dog Stuff; an try to explain the sometimes puzzling way our humans buh-have.
Till next time,
The Bonz