Woof, did I have fun innerviewing a 70-pound puppy with the Biggest ar-to-Ear Smile an the Puppy-est dis-po-zish-shun EVER. Superman Clarke is an American Bully. I KNOW. I hadn’t heard of it either. So I Googled. It’s a new breed, with the good parts of regular bull dogs, but not the other parts. So Bullys end up being bull-dog-lookin’ but totally loving, frenly, goofy poocheroos. Totally Crispy Dog Biscuits.
A lady, a man anna Bee-gull were at the door with Superman, who greeted us with Great Enthusiasm an Bounces. A hansome pupster, he hadda short black-an-white coat with dabs of sable. There were polka dots on his nose an one big polka dot between his shoulders. He looked like a very large loaf of bread.
“HI! HellO! Come IN! It’s ME, Superman Clarke! Is that your notebook? Woof, that’s SO cool!”
I picked it up off the floor.
“Ooooooo! (bounce, bounce.) What’s in that Big Bag? Snacks?”
My assistant picked it up off the floor.
We were all laughing by then.
“Oh, I forgot. I’m ’spose to Not Bounce. An I’m ’spose to innerduce my FAM-ly. This is my Mom, Michelle Clarke. An my Dad Mark Wheeler. An my Big Brother, Monte. He’s a Bee-gull. He’s 18 in Human. He’s been teachin’ me Valuable Dog Stuff. He’s Very Wise. I try to be ree-SPECK-full and not bouncy around him. He’s always shakin’ his head an sayin, ‘You young pupsters, nothing but fluff between the ears.’ But I know he loves me. He’s the Best Big Brother Ever!”
After greetings all ’round, we settled in. Monte curled up nearby, an Superman began munching on something.
“Mob seds yew ah gubba asg be sub quez-chubs,” he said.
“What?”
He peetooied. “Oh, ’scuse me. I was sayin’ that Mom told me you’re gonna ask me questions. This is my SHELL. I found it on the BEECH. It’s my fav-rite thing in the world, way bedder than plain ol’ toys, which always fall apart for some reason. Isn’t it GREAT? I also love chewin’ on coconuts, but they don’t last either.”
I could see why plain ol’ toys an coconuts didn’t stand a chance with Superman. “It’s perfect for you,” I agreed. He continued to chew an peetooie throughout our conversation, pawsing occasionally to Nose Nudge my assistant or poke around in the Big Bag.
“I’m ready to hear your story,” I said.
“I come from a Very Good Breeder in Alabama. They make sure all us puppies get the Perfect Famly. Mom an Dad wanted a Very Easy Going, Well Socialized puppy. Which was totally ME. When they drove up to meet me, we spent hours playin’ to make sure we were come-PAT-ubble. Then I snuggled between ’em and snoozed the whole way back.”
“What’s it been like with your Forever Famly so far?”
“I’m havin’ the Best Time. I’ve made tons of pooch an human frens, specially liddle kids like my neff-yous Easton an Baby Joey, an my neece Brooke. My Leash Walk BFFs are Bailey, a Jack Russell, an Jack, a Bishonpoo. (Jack’s humans always bring treats.) When we leave the house, I’ve learned, if we turn left, we’re going to the beach. If we turn right, I get extra excited cuz we’re goin’ to Cravings. Or the Lemon Tree. They’re Pooch Frenly.
“One of my Totally Favrite Things to Do in the Whole World is fishin’ with Mom an Dad, way far out in the ocean. When I see ’em getting their fishin’ stuff ready, I sit Right There so they don’t accidently leave me behind. While I’m waiting for ’em to catch a fish, I Stare at the Bait Well. (That’s like a very small swimmin’ pool filled with a whole buncha liddle teeny fish called greenies swimmin’ arounds real fast.) I could watch ’em for HOURS. Of course, I always wear my life jacket. I tried paddle boardin’ once but I kept tumblin’ off and sinking like a rock, an Dad hadda save me.
“I DON’T LIKE IT when Mom an Dad leave me home alone: When they get back I can tell by sniffin’ if they been fishin’. If they HAVE, I give ’em the Silent Treatment.
“I often go to Paw Prints to refresh my obedience training and social skills. An PLAY. All us pooches have a blast, an I’m always Totally Pooped Out when I get home (which, I buh-leeve, is Dad’s strategy). When I was too liddle for Leash Walks, I rode in Dad’s bike basket. I loved feelin’ the breeze in my face, even though it did kinda made me slobber. People’d stop an tell Dad they couldn’t buh-leeve how Adorable I was. I don’t fit in the basket anymore. I also love playin’ in the hose, but I got Way Too Muddy so I hadda quit. When I’m not playin’ or leash walkin’ or fishin’, I enjoy Baskin’ in the Sun.”
“What’s you’re favrite food?” I inquired.
“I have a Raw Diet: red meat, green beans, blueberries, sweet puh-tadoes, stuff like that. It’s pretty duh-lish. When it’s bedtime, I curl up on my bed in Mom an Dad’s room. When I wake up at 5:30 a.m. on the dot, I puh-litely ask if I can get on the bed, an we snuggle for a haff hour.”
“Any future plans?”
“I started Service Dog Training cuz I’ve got a lotta po-TEN-shull an I’m, obedient. I get my good dis-puh-sition from my pooch Dad, Loso. When this Bad Virus came, we hadda stop, but I wanna try again. I’m a good candidate. I don’t get scared of stuff, like, when the trainer drops a Big Metal Garbage Can on the floor right next to you. Some pooches freak but me, I’m like, ‘No Biggie.’”
Headin’ home, I was still smilin’, picturin’ Superman and his Big Frenly Grin and sunshiny disposition. Wouldn’t it be Cool Kibbles if you could put it in a bottle an spray it on Grumps?
Till next time,
The Bonz
