Briar MacWilliam Sexton, a 6-anna-haff-year-old black lab, totally checks all the Typical Labrador Re-TREE-ver boxes: smart, enthusiastic, loyal, sweet-nachured, FUN! Plus, I observed, super mellow, real pretty and charming. (Those last two, I might as well admit, had me tripping over my paws and forgetting repeatedly during the innerview, that I am a Professional Journalist and Happy Bachelor.)
Me an my assistant met Miss Briar on the EYE-lun, where she’s Official Office Mascot for a famly bizz-ness that sells houses an condos an stuff for humans. Big ones, liddle ones, all over town. I don’t know if they sell dog houses, though.
Anyway, Miss Briar greeted us at the door, approaching for the Wag-an-Sniff wearin’ a pink monogrammed bandana anna charmin’ smile. “Woof!” I thought to myself, grinnin’ like a Total Doof.
“Good morning! Miss Briar, I presume? I am Bonzo the, um, the writer, an this is my, ummm, assistant. Lovely weather we’re having, doncha think?” delivering this brilliant greeting whilst simultaneously dropping my notebook.
“Good morning, Mr. Bonzo!” Briar gave a small laugh as I nonchalantly retrieved my notebook. “Welcome! It IS lovely. Perhaps a bit warm. Come’on into my office an meet my Grampa MacWilliam. I call him Grampa Buzz.”
Introductions complete, we got comftubble and I opened my notebook.
“I understand you have a very full, active life, Miss Briar,” I said, “and a nice big famly.
I’m eager to hear your tail. An by the way,” I heard myself add, “that is a very becoming, um, scarfy thingy you’re wearin’.”
“Seriously? Scarfy thingy?” I said to myself. “For Lassie’s sake, get a grip.”
“Why thank you,” Briar replied sweetly. “I have several. I think they go well with my dark coat. So, shall I begin? There’s a lot to tell.”
Thankfully not waiting for me to reply, she began.
“My (future) Mom, Chandler, was just about to GRAD-ju-wait from a college in another state, Ally-BAM-uh, an she wanted a puppy as a grad-ju-WAY-shun present. HER mom and dad (Grampa Buzz an Gramma Stephanie) thought it was the OPPA-zit of a good idea an they said NO. WELL, Mom told her brother Alex, and HE said SURE.
“So Uncle Alex got ME for Mom. I stayed with him about a month till Mom ‘kidnapped’ me … (is dognapped a word?)”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Anyway, pretty soon me an Mom moved back to here. It was an Ad-VEN-chur an I wasn’t even scared, ridin’ in what Mom called a YOU-Hall, all the way from Ally-BAM-uh. Now I’m considered The Famly Dog. When I’m not with Mom an Dad (he’s Mike), I stay with Gramma Stephanie an Grampa Buzz, an work here pretty FREE-quently. I’ve met hundreds of humans an pooches, which I so much enjoy. But this by no means is all I do.
“You See, we have a famly ranch, which was where I discovered I’m ackshully quite skilled at helpin’ Dad move our big buncha cows: It’s called ‘Roundin’ up the CAT-ell (altho there aren’t any ackshull cats). The grrrls are called cows an the boys are called different things duh-pendin’ onna buncha stuff I totally don’t understand. I love runnin’ next to Dad when he’s on his horse or his funny vee-hickle called a Gator. There’s 800 acres of ranch to run in. Sometimes I pretend I’m a wolf, wild an free, queen of the pack, running across the fields, wind in my ears, free as the birds. (Until dinnertime, of course.)”
“That sounds SO excitin’!” I exclaimed.
“It IS! However, my most important job, an the most fun, is being guardian of my liddle sister, Emmy Tate Sexton. She’s 2 in human, which isn’t that much, and I stick to her like a shadow. We play an nap and just hang out. We’re Besties.”
“You sure are a busy grrrl, Miss Briar!”
“Once, I got to have 15 minutes of fame, as humans say (which is 105 minutes in dog): I starred on the cover of Vero Beach Magazine with a beautiful bride all in white, an ME sittin’ in front with flowers draped all over!”
“I’m impressed!”
“Also, I am a beach grrrl, Mr. Bonzo. Me an Grampa Buzz go every evening. I adore swimmin’, an chasin’ my beach ball or those tiny crabs. (Those liddle guys are SPEEDY!) Playin’ catch with a tennis ball or Kong is my No. 1 favrite. Not to brag, but I not only catch it, I throw it back!”
“Shut the doghouse door!” I exclaimed.
“It’s true. I grab it with my mouth, balance it with my snoot, twist my head an sling it.
“When me an Grampa Buzz get home around 3 and I see him gettin’ into his not-work clothes, I get all excited. We’re gonna play CATCH! At the BEACH! If he doesn’t get goin’ fast enough, I haff to admit, I get impatient. Then I yap/bark, ‘Let’s GO!!’ Grampa Buzz says I’m cussin’ cuz he’s too slow, but I don’t even know what that means.”
“Any favrite foodstuffs?” I inquired.
“I get lotsa exercise, but if I want to maintain my grrlish figure I must also eat properly.
So I get No Table Scraps or Random Treats.”
“Bummer,” I muttered.
Well, just buh-tween us, me an Emmy have this arrangement. When she’s eatin’ she usually gets a liddle, well, untidy, as 2-year-old humans tend to do, so I hafta clean up, right?”
Ab-so-woofin’-lutely.”
“Then of course I make the rounds upstairs when my fellow employees are eatin’ lunch. I innocently sit in front of them an give them what I like to call my Guilt Stare. It usually works. Also, along Ocean Drive where me an Grampa take our daily walks, I am quite well known, at Cory’s an Sea Coast Bank among others, an it would be impolite to refuse a liddle something.”
“Woof, Miss Briar, you have it figured out!”
She smiled. “I buh-leeve I do, Mr. Bonzo.”
Headin’ home, I was still admonishin’ myself for Doofin’ Out with Miss Briar, but also smilin’ as I remembered how charming she had been an how she had said, as we left, “I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Bonzo. Perhaps we could walk on the beach.”
Sigh.
