I dunno know about you, but when I think of a German Shepherd, I pick-shur a Big, Non-Nonsense, (kinda in-TIM-uh-datin’) poocheroo with Egg-sellent Poss-chur and Large Pointy Ears, who makes me wanna suh-LOOT. If I’m ruh-memberin’ right, the only German Shepherds I’ve met in-the-fur have been puh-LEECE officers or members of the Military: frenly an puh-lite but not what I’d call cuddly-wuddly. (If you ARE a German Shepherd, you probly get that all the time, right?)
Until this week.
The best way I can describe Grady Nestor is: “He’s a 6-year-old, 90-pound puppy.” Upon our arrival, a nice lady answered the door. If Grady’d been sitting still, I probably wouldda thought about saluting – he was a Very Hansome German Shepherd – but he came wigglin’ and woofin up, all frenly, for the Wag-an-Sniff, Hello-Nudgin’ my assistant and just puppyin’ around, all happy an excited.
“Good morning,” I said, introducing myself an my assistant, an glimpsing, outta the corner of my eye, a cat-shaped flash of fluff. “Wha…?”
Grady laughed. “That’s my shy liddle brother Peanut, he’s just 4. We’re so excited you’re HERE. This is our Mom, Melissa, she’s an animal doctor. Our Dad Zak’s at work. His compny builds stuff an sometimes I get to go with him, which is Totally Cool Kibbles. My other cat sib, Lilo’s around somewhere, she’s 7, a rescue Calico, found inna box at a Walmart in Tallahassee.
“Come on in, you can sit on our comfy sofa and meet my big sister Molly, a shepherd mixture. She’s getting’ Up There (13 in human). I’ve learned So Much Important Pooch Stuff from her.”
A pretty, light brown pooch reclined at the end of the couch. She had a gentle face and soft eyes.
“Hey, Molly, this is Bonzo. He’s the one doing the STORY for the PAYper. Bonzo, meet Molly Sue.”
“A great pleasure Miss Molly.”
“Likewise,” Molly replied. “Make yourself comftubble, young man.”
“Thank you, Miss Molly,” I replied. After obtaining permission, my assistant had presented Grady with a snack from The Satchel. Grady dispatched it in a flash an was nosing about for, hopefully, another.
“Can’t wait to hear your story,” I reminded him, opening my notebook. Grady swallowed his second duhlishus snack, poked the notebook with his nose and began his tail.
“So, Mom an Dad were in a big school called FSU: They already had Molly, and Dad wanted a German Shepherd pupper, so they went On The Line and found me in AL-uh-BAM-uh. I have PAYpers cuz I think my pooch mom an dad were important: Dad was a working German Shepherd an my Mom had this Crispy Biscuit PAYpers name: Stella by the Lake.
Isn’t that Pawsome?”
“Woof! Totally!” I agreed.
“Anyway, I was about 4-5 months old when Mom an Dad ’dopted me: Father’s Day 2017. I’m preddy sure it was Dad’s ‘Best.Father’s.Day.Ever!’ When we got to my Furever home, Molly took me under her wing right away. She understood what it was like to be a rescue, right Mollie?”
“Indeed. I, too, was a rescue, a tiny shelter pupper in Royal Palm Beach, when I was rescued as a birthday present for Mom long ago. Before we even got all the way to my new home, we stopped at PetSmart an loaded up on tons of pooch stuff. MY only Big Adventure was accompanying Mom to a beautiful island in the Cara-BEE-un called St. Kitts (I’m pretty sure that’s short for Kittens), where she went to animal doctor school. I flew what’s called First Class, which humans say is a Big Deal. Now THIS one,” Molly smiled fondly at Grady, “was ALWAYS a busy boy. Always ON THE GO. Has to have WORK! Still does. That’s the breed!”
Grady pointed to a pretty wooden sorta chest under a big window. “This is my very own window seat. Mom’s gonna make a comfy cushion for it so I can sit an look out. Other than that,” he grinned, “I’m not what you’d call a lounger. I’ve gotta GO places, DO things. Work with Dad. Get Important Work Stuff at Home Depot. I patrol our home at night to keep us SAFE. I also love swimming, the beach, boats, the river. But NOT pools. Cept my kiddie pool. I sit in it to stay cool. Mom an Dad think I look huh-LARRY-us but I don’t even care.
One of my MOST favrite things is RUNNIN’, ridin’ in the golf cart, or next to it with Mom or Dad, runnin’ after bunnies, squirrels, Frisbees, tennis balls. And, Bonzo (he lowered his voice), there’s this strange, sneaky magic dot thingy. It’s RED. It’s called a LAY-zer. I see it onna chair. The wall. The table. The floor. I pounce. It’s gone. Every time I get where it is, it ISN’T! I’m totally bumfluffed!”
“Woof! That IS strange,” I agreed. “How ’bout fave foodstuffs? Speshul pooch or people pals?”
“WELL, broccoli an Pupperoni’re my FAVE foodfstuffs, paws down!! My BFF’s Maverick, he’s a black-an-white mixture; an Poppy, a black Lab. My Favrite Peeple in the Entire World are Mom’s liddle sis Ant Kelsey, she’s 12, and my Gramma Kathy. I love Mom an Dad of COURSE, but they make me buh-have, which I usually wanna do, but not always. Whereas, with Ant Kelsey or Gramma Kathy … Ya know what I mean?”
“Totally,” I replied. “Sometimes a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do. By the way, I noticed your Cool Kibbles collar.” It was sturdy and had different colors.
“Thank you. Me an Molly have collars for every holiday an speshul occasion. This one was made out of recycled sails from boats down in the islands. Hers are mostly flowers. We also have hats for various occasions. Here. Look! This is on my birthday!”
It was a great phodo of Grady smiling, a pointy hat perched right between his big pointy ears, paws on either side of a lovely birthday cake. An I didn’t feel the slightest bit like suh-LOOTING.
