Everyone loves lively Loki, who’s anything but low-key

PHOTO BY JOSHUA KODIS

I was glad I had just fluffed my ruff before this week’s innerview, cuz my inner-view-ee is one squared away poocheroo.

Loki Lauer is a 12-pound, min-uh-chur poodle an, even tho he’s a pure-bred, with PAY-pers an everything, he’s totally NOT a snob-nose.

We met at his workplace, where Loki an his Mama and Grampa do something called LAW which, he explained, means helpin’ humans make good duh-cisions about important stuff. Loki’s spent preddy much every workday there since he was an 8-week-old pupper.

Loki came trottin’ up to greet us, with a nice lady right buh-hind.

“Good afternoon. You must be Bonzo! I’m Loki Lauer, Receptionist an Official Greeter! This is my Mama, Eva. Come’on, I’ll show you to our CON-frunce room.”

“A pleasure!” I said, following them into a room with the biggest table I ever saw, with chairs all the way around. I didn’t know what CON-frunces were but I figured, with a table like that, they must be Very Serious an Important. (I planned to Google later.)

I opened my notebook. “I’m eager to hear your story!”

Loki got comftubble in his Mama’s lap. “Here goes,” he said. “Mama hadda poodle growin’ up, an saw how smart we are, so she decided she’d get one Some Day. Then, after she saw poodle puppers in the Puppy Bowl (which is the Cool Kibblest part of that big football game humans get so loud about), she started really, REALLY wantin’ one. When she was done goin’ to college and traveling around, an came back here where she grew up, she decided Some Day had arrived.

“But there was this tiny problem: Mama was workin’ full time, in This Very Office, which her Dad (that’s my Grampa Steve) is The Boss Of. Since Mama didn’t want to leave a pupper at home all day, she had to get per-MISSION to bring it to work, like, every day.

“Let’s just say at first Grampa Steve wasn’t fond of the idea. At all. But Mama didn’t give up. She told Grampa Steve that Mr. Sandy, who runs a bizz-ness on the first floor, took HIS poocheroo, Rocky, to work every day, an it was FINE.

“Finally, Grampa Steve agreed (Thank Lassie) an Mama woof-mailed the best breeder she could find. The recent litter of puppers had just been ’dopted out but a liddle while later, the breeder called an said there’re More Puppies Ready Right Away. So Mama rushed out an bought lotsa Puppy Stuff, threw everything in the car and took off for Kissimmee, where the breeder was. It was JAN-you-wary 2021. I was an 8-week-old fluffball. Only weighed 4 pounds. Irresistubble, of course. Me an Mama knew right away I was The Dog!”

“Woof, Loki! That’s SO Crispy Biscuits! What was it like at first, havin’ your Furever Home? An how’d you get that Cool Kibbles name?”

“It was excitin’! Not to brag, but I was smart even when I was a pupper. I learned Potty Training right away. I did chew stuff, tho. Like, I’d pull the grass outta the pots of potted plants. An gently nab one of Mom’s shoes and stick my face in it. An once I chewed some Important File Folders.

But only the corners. I also usta pull paper towels outta the trash.”

“Typical puppy stuff,” I commented.

“I KNOW, right? Mama named me Loki after the first Loki, the God of Miss-chuff in Norse mythology: that’s a buncha super old stories humans in a very cold place called Norway tell about stuff that happened, like, a million dog years ago. An Mama says I’m really skilled at Miss-chuff. I prefer to consider myself an Independent Thinker.

“For egg-zample, when Mama tried to Crate Train me, I didn’t wanna NOT do what she asked, but I HAD to quickly convince her a crate was NOT for me! I’m treat motivated. The crate training efforts lasted about 2 hours. I think it’s a poodle thing.”

“So, what’re your fave foodstuffs? Toys? Pooch pals?”

“BACON!” he responded with enthusiasm. “An Stinky Fish Snacks! An LEDDUCE, ever since our bookkeeper accidentally dropped a liddle leaf of it an I gobbled it right UP. Mixed greens are a beauty-full thing, doncha think?”

Fortunately, before I could respond, he continued.

“My grrrlfren, Olive, a Wire Haired Terrier, lives a coupla houses down. We met as puppies. We have play dates at her place. She jumps in her pool, but I don’t like water that’s not in my bowl. I’m also frens with Rocky. We share toys, ’cept when I accidentally grab one of his an bring it to Mama.”

Loki suddenly jumped up, zipped outta the room, then zipped back carrying what looked like a brownish/orangish stuffy snake with a very odd zig-zaggy face.

“THITH ib by FAY-brut toy. Id’s by juh-RABB!”

He petooied the soggy stuffy out, an I saw it was ackshully a giraffe.

“Mom hadda sew up his face three times! Me an Mama take a run every morning to use up my Extra Energy. After breakfast we go to work. I greet our CLY-unts an bring ’em a toy; sometimes I squeak my squeaker toys when Mama an Grampa Steve are on a conference call, which I think possibly they don’t enjoy as much as I do. Later, we go to the post office, then lunch at Casey’s or El Sid, where everybody loves me. They say ‘There’s Loki! Hi, Loki!’ After work me an Mama have dinner, then we hang-out, watch a liddle TV. I’m not ackshully a cuddly kinda pooch, ’cept when I’m sleepy, I’m semi-cuddly with Mama.”

“Do you travel?” I inquired.

“I’m good inna car anna plane. But I miss bein’ here in the office.”

Heading home, I was thinkin’ about charming Loki, makin’ so many humans’ day a liddle better just by bein’ his outgoing, adorable self.

An thinkin’ about checkin’ to see if perhaps there was some bacon in the fridge, to go with my duh-li-shus evening bowl of yoghurt.

Till next time,

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