This week I had a fun yap with joyful, 7-pounds-soaking-wet, 7-year-old Yoda Cole, a tiny Shih Tzu with a Cuteness Factor that is totally off the charts. (I don’t know if there are actual charts but if there are, he’d be off ’em.) An by the time he got all dressed up for the holidays in a red shirt emblazoned with ‘Santa’s Favorite Helper,’ and a pointy, green hat with elf ears, well …
Me an my assistant could hear pretty substantial woofs when we rang the bell, which, if we didn’t already know Yoda’s breed, we wudda thought came from a larger dog. “Nice job, Yoda,” I thought to myself.
He trotted right up for the wag an sniff, an I introduced myself an my assistant.
“Welcome to my home,” he said. “Follow me.” He raced to the sofa. “Havva seat. These are My Peeps: Mom, Mary Jane, an Dad, Jim. He’s a dock-ter an he works a lot from home, talkin’ to pay-shunts. So Mom hasta keep me quiet, which is basically a full-time job cuz I’m pretty VUR-bull.
“I hope you’ll like my story. I have a Super Crispy Biscuits life, with my own home, a Forever Mom an Dad who take Really Good Care of Me; anna big basket of stuffies! You’d never know I almost didn’t make it outta puppyhood, would you?”
I shook my head in suh-prise. He was so bouncy an ex-ZOO-ber-unt. “Woof, Yoda, I never would have! You must have Some Tail to tell.”
I opened my notebook, an Yoda settled in between his Mom and my assistant.
“I guess you could say I came from humm-bull buh-ginnings. I was a fluffy liddle pupster, just 5 pounds, an another hoo-man wanted to adopt me. But my breeder said I hadda have a home where somebody’d be with me All The Time cuz I panic when I’m alone. Since the other hoo-man worked, she couldn’t be my Furever Mom. Just when I started wonderin’ what wuz gonna happen to me, Mom an Dad heard about me by word-of-mouth, an adopted me! Well, I had done fine with Mommy Milk an I Really Love to EAT, but, whenever I gobbled down my duh-li-shus food, I Tossed my Kibbles. THEN, when the vet was givin’ me my Puppy Shots, I did what hoo-mans call ‘coded,’ which I found out means I almost Bought the Doghouse. But the vet saved me!
“Dad, cuzza being a dock-ter, gave me lots an lots of speshull tests to find out what was goin’ on. Finally, after tossing my kibbles with wet food, dry food, chiggen-an-rice, ’spensive food, even the best, most duh-lish-us food, Mom and Dad found some called Zignature that stayed in my tummy. I like it (Thank Lassie) an I eat 6 liddle meals a day. Buh-leeve it or not, I can’t even have a tiny biscuit or an itsy table scrap. Not even a Chew Toy. I have to eat totally ho-LISS-tick.”
“Woof! Yoda, you are one lucky, tough liddle poocheroo!”
After we shared a spontaneous “High Paw,” Yoda continued his tail.
“So me an Dad an Mom took it easy for a while. We were livin’ in Titusville an, for a while, we were modor-homers, which was pretty fun: cozy, you know; but then we moved to here cuzza of ally-gaders in our yard which cudda had me for lunch and still been hungry. Now we’re HERE an we all love it!”
“What’s your daily roo-TEEN?” I queried.
“Well, fur fun, first thing in the morning, I TWIRL. Sometimes 17 twirls inna ROW, cuz I get so excited lookin’ forward to BRECK-fust. After that, I play with my toys, then I walk around the pool (I NEVER ackshully go IN it, tho. Like Mom says, ‘There’s nothing worse than a wet Shih Tzu’), an I bark so the neighbors know I’m On Dootie. You probly noticed my bark when you rang, right?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” I replied.
“So you know it is a Very fur-ROW-shus bark, right?”
“Indeed it is,” I agreed. (It was.)
“So, although I don’t even weigh as much as a big bag of kibbles, I am a good watch dog. Problem is, I also bark when comp-nee comes. An when comp-nee leaves. An a whole bunch in between.”
He jumped down, stood up straight an tall (relatively speaking) and stated (with the closest thing to a serious, determined expression as he could manage on his adorable, fluffy liddle face), “NOTHING gets by Yoda, I promise you.”
He then plopped back down on the couch and added, “On the other paw, that’s pretty much why Mom hasta always remind me not to bark when Dad’s here workin’.”
“Well,” I remarked, “you hafta be ready to spring into action whenever the need arises.”
“Thanks for understanding, Bonzo,” he said with sincerity.
“So, Yoda,” I asked. “Whaddya do for fun?”
“I love car rides; an goin’ to the dog park; rootin’ around in my toy box, of course. An stealing SOX. What I do is, I sneak sneakily into Mom an Dad’s room and grab a sock, then I run all around the house with it, an they have to chase me to get it back. It’s huh-LARRY-us.”
“I can imagine,” I said with a smile. “Any BFFs?”
“I love my stylist, Miss Debbie. It’s not easy to look this good, you know. I’m basically a people pooch. Actually, a Mom-an-Dad pooch. I sleep with ’em, of course, and I’m totally content as long as they’re close by. They call me ‘baby-fied’ but I pruh-fur to think of myself as a cuddly, loving, faithful come-PAN-yun.
“I am SO for-chu-nut that they love me and take care of me even with my health ish-yous. I have Christmas blessings all year long.”
The time had passed quickly an I rose to go. “Merry Christmas, Yoda!”
“Merry Christmas, Bonzo! I’ll bark you to your car.”
And so he did.
Till next time,
