Even though he’s part Doberman, Bandit Gallagher is anything but fuh-ROW-shus, basically cuz he’s also part Chu-wah-wah. So he gets his stylish cream-an-black colors from the former, an his small size an bouncy-ness from the ladder.
Bandit lives over on the island with his Mom, Janet. His Daddy, David, hadda go to Heaven a while back. So him an his Mommy met me an my assistant at the door, an he trotted right up for the traditional Wag-an-Sniff. A very handsome poocheroo, Bandit has black circles around his eyes that looked like a mask. (Thus his name, I pruh-ZOOMED.)
He innerduced his Mom and said, “When Mommy told me you were come over to innerview ME, I got Real Excited an only a liddle NER-vuss. So let’s go get all comfy, OK?”
“It’s such a pleasure meeting you,” I replied, as Bandit led us into his big, beautiful living room, all Christmussed up with a Very Tall Tree with lotsa lights an orna-mutts, plus other Cool Kibbles decorashuns.
“No need to be NER-vuss,” I assured him. “Just tell me whatever you want to about your life, stuff you like to eat, maybe favrite toys and snacks, pooch pals, that kinda thing. An I’ll write it all down in This Very Notebook. It’s pretty fun, ackshully.”
After obtaining permission from Bandit’s Mommy, my assistant produced several duhlishus size-appropriate snacks from The Satchel and Bandit Sat and Gave Paw for each. I opened my notebook.
“So, how’d find your Forever Famly?”
“Well, almost six years ago, Mommy an Daddy had lost their buh-loved pooch an they were SO SAD. Daddy said, ‘NO MORE DOGS!!’
“Mommy wanted another dog though, an their kids said, ‘Dad, you GOTTA get another dog.’
Pretty soon after that, Mommy an Daddy visited the Humane Society shelter to see who all, dog-wise, was there. A buncha puppers were brought into that liddle meet-an-greet room, including me. The shelter lady told Mommy an Daddy I was a New Arrival, hadn’t even been PRAH-sessed yet.
“Well, I ree-lized right away this was my Furever Mommy an Daddy: I went over an licked Daddy, to make sure he knew also. He DID! So Mommy an Daddy went onna cruise they had already planned, while I got PRAH-sessed, with shots, The No Puppies Pruh-seed-jure an all that.”
He leaned closer to me an spoke softly, “I became Daddy’s Boy right away. We were BFFs. When he got sick, I stayed right with him the whole time. I still miss him.”
After a liddle paws, he resumed his tail. “The first time I saw my Furever Home, I was like, ‘Woof! Am I one lucky poocheroo!’ I did chew the FUR-nitchur a liddle (OK, more than a liddle) when I was a pupper, but I learned What To Do and What To Not Do pretty fast. Like Doin’ My Duty OUT-side. An how far to go in the yard. We have what’s called a Dog Fence.
It’s for my SAFETY, Mommy says. If I go too far, it stings me. So I don’t. I can’t figure out how it KNOWS. I think it’s magic.
“When I first arrived, as a pupper, I didn’t bark at all for three weeks. To tell the truth, Mr. Bonzo, I think it was cuz I didn’t know I could. Then one day, when I got use to my new home, I woofed an startled myself! Was that ME? Who knew? Now I mostly only bark at strangers, or if I think there’s Danger. I do grrrr at the leaf blower person; an, when I’m in the car an it’s rainin’,an those scary long things start goin’ back-an-forth, blam-blam-blam, THEN I Totally Bark. They scare the kibbles outta me! I DO NOT LIKE THEM WHATSO-EVER!!! Other than that, I love ridin’ in the car. Lookin’ out the window, the wind in my ears.”
“How about pooch or human pals?” I asked. “Fave toys? Ad-VEN-churs? Foodstuffs?”
“I get along with most everybuddy: Got lotsa pooch pals. Here in the neighborhood there’s Peach; an there’s my human sister and brother-in-law, Daryl, an Ron’s pooch, Buddy; then there’s Duke, a tubby dashchund; Lily’s a mutt mixture; an Skye’s a rescue Mommy’s gran-daughter Alex adopted. When Mommy travels, her frens Sharon an Chris stay with me.
They’re Super Cool Kibbles!
“My favorite Foodstuffs would haffta be Mommy’s Scramble Deggs. I can tell from wherever I am when she’s makin’ em. They’re duh-LISHUS!!! An once, under circumstances I won’t duh-vulge, I got Turkey-an-mashed-puh-TAY-does. Mommy says I du-voured ’em. The green beans, meh.
“Ooo, an the Saturday Farmers Market across from the park! Mommy gets me speshull duihlishus homade Pooch Treats! All us dogs dig those! (Figuratively speakin’.)
“An I swim! Mommy carried me into the pool an showed me how. Turns out I’m a Great Dog Paddler, but I don’t go in by myself. Mommy hasta carry me. An I’m not sure about the O-shun. I don’t mind the soap-sudsy part, but the Big Splashy Part, not so much.
“I love, love, love to RUN!! Wind in your ears, zillions of excitin’ smells in your nose! Ya know?”
I nodded. We all know that’s a Major THING with us dogs, right?
“I usta be a Bunny Chaser,” Bandit continued. “But not anymore. Too much Fluff Mouth. I have LOTSA toys. Squeakies are the Best! I havva squeaky Chris-muss tree, anna teddy bear an, my favrite, a very looong, very flat, formerly stuffed yellow dog.
“Now,” Bandit said, “I’m a Mommy’s Boy! We sorta adopted each other. I’m One Lucky Poocheroo!!”
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ how so many of you poocheroos, like Bandit, aren’t just your humans’ Best Frens, watchdogs, an play buddies, but you’re right at their side through the toughest times. I was also thinkin’ about Turkey-an-Mashed-Puh-TAY-does! I wonder what my chances are? Maybe I’ll try for the Scramble Deggs first.
