I don’t get over to the Dog Park too much, so it was fun doin’ this week’s innerview there. My innerview was with Parker “Mister P” Jones, who’s a Red Merle Australian Shepherd mixture with the Cool Kibblest super light blue eyes. Makes him look real eggs-ZAH-dick. He was boundin’ around in the field when his human spotted me an my assistant. We got situated in a bench in the shade an Parker loped over for the Wag-an-Sniff.
He was big (about 60 pounds) with a thick, fluffy white-an-brown coat, a brown circle around one eye, an a very unusual an stylish brown-an-pink nose.
“Good morning, Parker,” I said.
“Mornin’, Bonz,” he replied. “This is my Mom, Kaila. My Dad Bryant’s workin’. My brother an sister, Chip an Delilah, are home, probly running around in the yard. Chip’s a mostly black mixture, an Delilah’s a liddle sorta shepherd, gold, black an white, with big pointy sailboat ears.
We’re all rescues. I’m the oldest. An the biggest.”
“Cool Kibbles. So how’d you all get together?”
“I was in Gainesville, where there’s this great big school called a U-nuh-VERSE-itty. I was livin’ with a fren of Mom’s who adopted me from an Aussie Rescue. But I’m not a school kinda pooch, I’m more of a free spirit, gotta lotta energy, love to run around: So I moved here to live with Mom an enjoy the Beach Life. Well, ackshully, it’s more the Very Big Fenced Yard Life. Which is GRRREAT!”
My assistant was rooting around in The Satchel for a Snack, an Parker was helping with his nice brown-an-pink nose. His Mom said “Sit” a couple times, an “Shake” a couple times. He looked at her, then turned to me.
“I know how to sit. An shake. But I hafta, you know, FEEL it first. I hafta be in The Mood. An right now I’m just not FEELIN’ it.”
He stood gazing at my assistant with those ice blue eyes an, no surprise, he got a snack.
“I hope that wasn’t rude,” Parker said, after he’d slurped the snack. “I don’t wanna be rude.” So he trotted over to his Mom an sat. And raised his paw. An got another snack from my assistant.
“I kinda liked bein’ an Only Dog,” Parker continued. “Fact is, I’m not into other pooches that much. I mostly prefer humans. No offense. ’Specially when they give me Tummy Rubs. But then Delilah an …”
Suddenly Parker rose an ran across the field to greet another shepherd. When they’d exchanged Wag-an-Sniffs an some pooch chat, he came trotting back.
“Sorry, Bonz. I get distracted. Got several lady frens here at the park. Now where were we …?”
“You were tellin me about De…”
“Oh, right. Me an Delilah met when Mom an Dad met, cuz she was his pooch. We get along grrreat. We run laps around the yard so much that we made a big track in the dirt.
“Then there’s Chip. He’s kinda a loner. He was staying with us tem-puh-rarily, but then it turned into forever. He’s a cool liddle dude but we don’t play like me an Delilah.”
“Whaddya do at home. Favrite foodstuffs. Toys?”
“I don’t really care much for toys, balls, stuff like that. I don’t chase birds or lizards, either. Fact is, ’cep for running lotsa laps in the back yard, an the occasional leash walk, I’m more of an observer. A coupla weeks ago, I was in the yard, an this big ol’ black snake slithered by almost across my paws. I’m like, ‘Hey dude. ’Sup?’ an Mom was like, ‘PARKER! DIDN’T YOU SEE THAT? THAT WAS A SNAKE! RIGHT UNDER YOUR FEET! A SNAKE!’ An I’m like, ‘Yeah. Cool.’
“Unless I’m running around with Delilah, I mostly just wanna be wherever Mom is. When she hasta go somewhere without me, I get all gloomy an quiet, an I give her The Look.
“One thing that does Freak Me Out a liddle – well, a lot – is a thunderstorm. Even a flash of lightning scares the Dog Biscuits outta me. I uh-mediately go find Mom. If it’s at night, I wake her up an get her outta bed, an we cuddle up on the couch an watch Netflix. I ‘specially like ‘The Office.’ One time we watched ‘Titanic,’ a story about a big, fancy boat. But it got too loud an scary, so I started barking. Actually, I am what humans call A Barker (capital A, capital B). Like, when another dog gets into My Space, I stand up real tall an do this growly-barky thing in my throat, to let ’em know who’s boss. An it’s not them.”
He demonstrated. Yep. It was subtle, but effective.
“I’m also A Digger. You should see our yard. That’s why I love helpin’ Mom garden. You gotta have lotsa holes for a garden, right?”
“Right! Any favrite food?”
“I get boring ol’ kibbles like most of us do. But Mom perks ’um up with a nice egg, or pum-kin, or coconut oil, which are all Yum. I also …”
Something caught Parker’s mysterious eye and off he zoomed again. Pretty soon back he came with a hansome gray Weimaraner.
“Hey, Bonz. I just made a new fren: Maestro Larson. Maestro, Bonzo. Bonzo, Maestro.”
“A pleasure,” I told the leggy pooch, giving him my card. His human called an off he trotted.
“See you around,” he called.
“The only time I really inner-face with other pooches is here,” Parker said. “I also wanted to mention I like to wear costumes, hats, an scarves.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” I told him. “Like what?”
“Like, for Halloween, I’m gonna be a cowboy/dog. Hat, bandanna, like that. I also have sunglasses, an several liddle hats.”
Heading home, I was hopin’ maybe Parker’d Woof-mail me a pickshur of him in his Cowboy Outfit. An hopin’ maybe Gramma had a can of smushed up pum-kin in the pantry, so I could try a liddle dab on my kibbles.
