I hadda fun, fascinating innerview with a charming French Bulldog this week: Mademoiselle Ashley Fernandez. She’s gonna be 2 in October an already she’s an adorable example of her breed, both her con-for-MAY-shun an her doganality.
Even before the Wag-an-Sniffs, I learned a bit about her. First, she’s no timid liddle blossom. An second, she loves car rides. I know this because, the instant her Mom opened the front door, this little black-an-gold blur shot outta the house and into the yard with her Mommy hot on her tail. As she roared by I think I heard her say something like “Aah-lons juwee!”
After a few spins around the yard, Ashley’s Mom cleverly apprehended the speedy liddle muffin by opening the car door an sayin’, “Let’s go, Ash!” whereupon Mlle. Ashley jumped into the car, her Mom scooped her up, an we all went inside.
“Humpff!” she said, as the front door closed securely. After bestowin’ welcoming bounces and kisses on my assistant, she trotted over for the Wag-an-Sniff.
“Bone-JURR, Monsieur Bonzo! I just could not help myself: the world smells so lovely and the grass is SO nice an green, neh say pah?”
Feeling like a Dog-of-the-World, I suavely employed half of the French words I know.
“Bone-JURR, Mademoiselle Ashley. A pleasure, indeed,” I said. (The other two are “chien” an “croissant.”)
“I am TRAY excited to tell you my tail!” she exclaimed. “And please do call me Ash. This is my Mommy, Irina. We are each other’s meilleure amie! I also have a human frere and soeur, Sebastian, he’s 16 in human, an Mia, she’s 13. They’re TRAY FUN!”
“So, Mlle Ash,” I inquired, “how did you find your Furever Famly?”
“I was ackshully a suh-prise Noel present for Mommy, all decorated and waiting in all my irresistible-ness under the Arbre de Noel. So festive! I was an adorable petit chiot. Mommy had always wanted a French bulldog: We are, as you can see, Forever Cute. We always look innocent so (an I do not boast, it is simply true) we usually receive Blanket Forgiveness for whatever we might do, now or in the future.”
“I can totally see that!” I said. (Her large sailboat ears, button nose, bright eyes and charmingly smushy face were definitely off the Cuteness chart.)
“I am fortunate that is the case, Monsieur Bonzo, because I have a petit issue I have not, as yet, been able to overcome. Chewing. I am a Chewer. Even at my young age, I have already chewed to bits many, many shoes, sox, grooming brushes, paper, hair ties, basically anything unfortunate enough to fall to the ground.
“There was one time in particular: I thought it was creative but, alas, Mommy didn’t share my enthusiasm. It involved a fresh new roll of papier hygiénique. Holding one end gently between my teeth, I ran from room to room, zigging and zagging, decorating the entire house. A true work of art. I wish she’d at least got a snappy for my scrapbook.”
I stifled a laugh behind my paw.
“I am, as you may have noticed, quite smart and, when I was only a wee chiot, I had already figured out that, when I grabbed something an wished to hide it (there are So Many Things to grab), I could simply zip way under the bed just far enough that Mommy couldn’t reach me.
Looking back, I think perhaps I was the only one who found that fun.
“I also dig,” she continued. “In my view, digging goes along with chewing. Mommy put sandbags around the fence so I couldn’t dig out. However, I am TRAY ingenious an easily overcame that obstacle. I didn’t think Mommy would know who had done it, but my face totally covered with sand betrayed me.”
“What else do you do for fun? I bet you have lotsa pooch pals,” I inquired.
“OUI! beaucoup de bons amis! I love playin’ with them at the beach and the dog park. There’s Bosco, another Frenchie, an Cooper, a Lhasa apso, they’re boys; an my grrrlfrens Nera, a Cane Corso, an Cupcake, a Labradoodle. They’re my Posse. I also sometimes sneak over into the Big Dog section and run with the Big Boys – four German Shepherds. I can totally keep up with ’em. I run right under their tummies. Ack-shully I don’t think they even know I’m there. But I Don’t Care. I love flyin’ across the field, my ears flappin’ in the wind! It’s TRAY exciting!”
“Have you ever met any other kind of pet?” I wondered.
“Oui. Once at the beach I met this big, unusual animal. It walked Real Slow an it didn’t have any fur either. Just this big round hard thing on top an a SIM-uh-ler thing on the bottom. With legs sticking out in between. An it’s head kept poppin’ out of it to look at stuff, an then popping back in. I went up to say bone-JURR, an ask it some questions, but it zipped its head AN feet in.
I found out it’s called a TURR-dull. Strange.
“I also met a cat one time. I thought it was just a petit dog. I went up to sniff it an it bopped me on the nose. So I don’t like cats that much so far.
“But, Monsieur Bonzo,” she said earnestly, “I don’t always just run around. I also love dressing up. When Mommy an I attended the Bark in the Park, I wore my beautiful TuTu. I also wore it, and a festive pink hat, for my first birthday party. Mommy made me a duh-LISH-us peanut budder-and-banana cake. C’est delicieux!
“An when I’m all pooped from playin,’ Mommy carries me home. I snuggle up with her to go to sleep, an dream about chewin’ stuff. I am a very happy grrrl!”
Heading home, I was pick-shurin’ Mlle. Ash’s sweet, squishy face, an fun-loving, adventure-seeking enthusiasm: a great big doganality in a tidy liddle package.
Till next time,
