I don’t think that Majorly Cool Kibbles Westminster Dog Show has a Cutest Dog category.
HowEVER, if they ever DID, Wig Corbiciero would totally be right up there, a top contender for the Golden Bone Trophy (or whatever it’s called). I mean, Wig, who’s a 7-months-old-in-human, black-an-white Boston Terrier, checks all the boxes: Big Boogly Eyes. Wiggly. Waggy.
Kissy. Liddle. Outgoing Doganality. Every Which Way Ears. Wig is 7 months old, an energetic, eager-for-what’s-next pupper in every way.
Wig and his Mom an Dad met us outside, along with another Boston Terrier, who looked vaguely fuh-MILL-yer. After a flurry of wag-an-sniffs – Wig bouncin’ around like a liddle tornado the entire time – he slowed down: “Hi, Mr. Bonzo. I’m Joey the Wig! (That’s my FISH-ull name.) But you can call me Wig. Or Wiggles. Or Deuce. This is my Mom, Lisa, an my dad, Mario, an my big brother, Bugsy. He says you knew each other Back When.”
“Wig works for me, Liddle Dude. It’s a pleasure meeting you all!
“Hey there, Bugsy! Longtime, no sniff!” I exclaimed, as we trooped into the living room and got SIT-chew-ated. “You’re lookin’ GOOD, Dog!” (Bugsy was also a Boston Terrier, but with a gold an white coat.) “I can’t wait to hear how you two got together. Are you still scarfin’ down pizza at the slightest opportunity?”
“Better buh-leeve it, Bonz! Nothin’ better!”
By then Wig had jumped onto my assistant’s lap and was bestowing a flurry of slurpy puppy kisses, which is one of my assistant’s favrite things about puppies. Along with big puppy eyes, wet puppy noses an puppy breath.
“Well, Wig,” I said. “I’m ready to write your story whenever you’re ready to tell it.”
“I’m ready, Mr. Bonzo!” he said, jumpin’ down an curling up beside me.
“OK. Here I go. I hope I ’member it right. So, Mom’s Mom an Dad – we call ’em Gramma an Poppy – missed their grand-pooch, Rocky, who had gone to Dog Heaven, an they wanted another pooch. So them an Mom an Dad were lookin’ and lookin’ an finally found The Perfick Puppy (ME). So I went to live with Gramma an Poppy. However, they were use to Rocky, who was Cahm and Suh-REEN. An, (maybe you noticed) I’m preddy much the opposite: I was a whirlwind of bounces an slurps when Gramma an Poppy needed a gentle breeze of liddle kisses.”
I smiled an nodded.
“But it was Meant To Be, cuz Mom an Dad ’dopted me, an I Gramma an Poppy could visit, then go home when I got too rm-BUNK-shus, like Granparents re ’spose to do.”
“Perfect!”
Bugsy, who’d been reclining next to his Dad, spoke up. “Gotta admit, at first, with this liddle whirlwind flyin’ all over the place, I was like, ‘WHY, Mom an Dad? WHY? Aren’t I enuff?’”
“Me an Bugsy got along great, soon as I ree-lized he’s In Charge,” explained Wig. “I’d just roll over on my back when he was around. Didn’t take long. We chased each other all over the place at first. Still do.”
“How’s Puppy 101 goin’?” I inquired.
“I’m doin’ pretty good in Outside, Positive Reinforcement Potty Training: 1 treat for Pee. 2 treats for Poo (after Dad picks it up). I’m havin’ a liddle trouble with the Stair Thing.”
“The Stair Thing?”
“Yep. I go up ’em. But NOT down ’em. So Mom hasta carry me down. Bugsy keeps demonstratin’ by runnin’ up an down a whole buncha times. But I remain convinced I will tumble into oh-BLIVVY-en if I try to go down.
“I’m also a finn-ickky eater. Only plain ol kibbles for me. Never had people food. Never want to. I mean, what’s the big deal with pizza?”
“Where do you sleep?” I asked.
“In my cozy upstairs crate. I nap in my downstairs one. Bugsy says when I’m old enough, I can upgrade to Mom and Dad’s bed like he did.”
“Crispy Biscuits! Any favorite toys? How about pooch pals?”
“My fvrite toy is whatever Bugsy has. Same with him. Bugsy’s probly my BFF. He’s a great big brother, but don’t tell him I said so. My other pooch pal is my neighbor Zoey. I think she’s some kind of Poo. We stop an talk when we meet on leash walks.”
The hour had zoomed by. Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about adorable liddle Wig, and wonderin’ what it’d be like to alluva sudden have a new, bouncy liddle brother. Or sister. I’m an Only Dog, but I never feel lonely cuz I’ve got my Gramma n Grampa! An my very own swimmin’ pool. An my lovely evening dish of yoghurt. An all you pawsome pooch pals!
Till next time,
