I always feel PRIV-leged when you poocheroos share your stories with me, an I ALWAYS learn something from every single one. This week’s innerview was with a 12-year-old Mini-Poo, Scribbles Hepburn, who’s had some super Dismal Dog Biscuits health ish-yews, but has the cheerful-est, happiest outlook ever. He’s an ins-purr-RAY-shun.
Scribbles an his Mom, Adela, are Canadian, which means they’re from a Totally Nother Country called CAN-ada. She’s been coming here to visit her entire life, but Scribbles flew down with her for his very first trip last month. (He got to sit in his Mom’s lap the whole way.)
They both greeted me an my assistant at the door, an Scribbles bounced right up for the Wag-an-Sniff. He had nice smiley brown eyes an black curly hair in a tidy summer cut, an he was carryin’ a bright green chewy bone. It wasn’t till after introductions, as we were gettin’ all comf-tubble on the padio, that I ree-lized – Scribbles had only three legs!
“I’m eager to hear your story,” I told him, opening my dog-eared notebook. He curled up next to his Mom and began.
“In 2009, Mom was just a liddle kid in third grade an was feelin’ Very, Very Gloomy. So her Grandmother Wendy wisely decided she should have a dog. She was Very Duh-termined cuz she knew how happy a liddle grrrl anna puppy’d be growin’ up together.
“My breeder was in Toronto and I was the last of my litter. Both my pooch parents were Show Dogs who wore fancy bows in their ears an knew how to Strut Their Stuff, but not me. I’ve always been just a happy-go-lucky kinda pooch. I like runnin’ around an playin.’ So Grandma Wendy bought me, an me an Mom have been BFFs since Day One. Because I had PAY-pers an all, I had one of those long fancy names I don’t even remember.”
“I was wonderin’ how you got your Cool Kibbles name,” I told him.
“Well, when I was a real liddle pupper, just after Mom got me, I found a pen, an, like puppers do, I started chewin’ it, an accidentally made a buncha marks on the floor, which humans call scribbles. So that’s what Mom named me.”
“Perfect!”
“Before I learned all the Rools, I usta enjoy flower pots. They were so in-TREE-ging! I’d nose ’em right over, dump all the flowers an dirt out. I was the only one who thought it was fun, tho. I also know a Trick: Our au pair taught me how to ‘Donne la patte.’”
“Umm, what’s that?” I asked.
“It’s French for ‘Give Paw.’ See?”
He demonstrated, sitting first, so he wouldn’t topple over.
“Cool Kibbles!” I said, with admiration.
“When we both were liddle puppers, Mom’d carry me around everywhere. She liked to dress me up, which was pretty fun. I have a cozy navy blue winter jacket that even covers my ears, which is a good thing cuz it’s WAY colder in Canada than here. I ’specially like wearin’ my colorful bow tie. I got to wear it when I was the Special Butler at Grandma Wendy’s birthday party. I was a Big Hit! All the humans loved me. After all, I gotta admit, I was an extremely adorable pupper.
“Mom taught me how to swim off the liddle beach at our cottage in On-TARRY-oh. I had my own life jacket at first, till I mastered the Dog Paddle.
“One time, Mom got me this Really Big Snack called a Pig Ear. It was almost big as me. Well, bein’ a silly pupper, I sorta overdid it. It was my first an last Pig Ear. Now I snack on nice fresh peas.”
“A wise choice,” I commented.
“When I first arrived at my new home, there was a resident cat – Theodora. I wudda been happy to play with her but she had zero intrest in a bouncy pupper, so she resided upstairs an I was a Ground Floor Pooch.
“I still enjoy my special version of hide-an-seek. What I do is I cleverly hide my snack biscuits in case I get hungry buh-tween meals. Then Mom an Grandma an Grandpa get to seek them. They find ’em all over the place, which I get the feeling might be more fun for me than for them.”
“Do you have any special pooch pals?” I inquired.
“Oh, yes! I have three red poodle cousins in Toronto, an here there’s my cousins Bisby, a black Lab, an Hugo, a yellow Lab. My human Besties are Uncle Tom, an my Godmother Bella at McGill U-nuh-VER-sutty in Montreal. She helped Mom take care of me when I was sick.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“When Mom started goin’ to school in Montreal this past Feb-you-wary I got to go with her, which was real exciting. But we had been there just a week when I had a Bad Accident an broke my leg (the vet calls it a FEE-murr) ,an that’s why I just have three now, instead of the usual four.”
“Oh, Woof! Scribbles! That’s Seriously Soggy Biscuits! But I didn’t even notice it at first!”
“A dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do,” he said cheerfully. “I never want Mom to feel sad, an I got the 3-legs thing figured out pretty fast. I also found out I have a duh-ZEES, but, you know, Bonzo, I feel fine right now, an I have the Best Mom EVER, an a very fun life, with a Famly, an frens an toys an snacks. So that makes me a Very Lucky Dog!”
Heading home, I was thinking about Scribbles’ wonderful Attitude, an the way he enjoys every minute like it was a duh-li-shus liddle snack. An how his joyful duh-mean-er makes other pooches an humans feel happy, too. I reminded myself that all us pooches have the opper-TOO-nutty to do the same thing.
