I met 8-month-old Timon Moursy at that Big, Pup-ular Dog Park on the River. It was late in the day anna liddle cold an windy, so all the humans were walkin’ around with their shoulders up, paws in their pockets an hats pulled down. The pooches, however, were havin’ a ball, runnin’ all over the place, meetin’, greetin’, wag-an-sniffin’ and havin’ a Super Crispy Biscuits time (cuz cool weather gets us poocheroos all EN-er-gized, right?). Plus, of course, we have fur all over instead of havin’ to pile on layers of CLOSE like our humans do. But I digress.
Me an my assistant were sittin’ onna bench when I spotted Timon an his human from AFAR.
They were headed our way but Timon kept runnin’ off to greet pooch frens, an runnin’ back to his human (which he preddy much did the entire time). I felt like a pupper again, just watchin’ how happy an inner-jedic he was.
He bounded up an skidded to a stop.
“Helloooo, Mr. Bonzo! I KNEW it was you from all the way across the field, cuzza your notebook! PLUS you look just like your PICKshur in ther PAY-per! I’m Timon, an this is my Mom, Dalia.”
Timon’s a hansome poocheroo: creamy tan fur, white sox, bib, and a stripe from his head down to his nose. He’s muscular, but not bulky, with long legs, a curled tail an, Cool Kibblest of all, mysterious light blue eyes. I KNOW! Right? An, when he runs – which he does a LOT – he looks like a colt.
Following intros an the standard Wag-a-n-Sniff, I opened my notebook an inquired, “How’d you meet your Mom?”
“So, I was born in HEW-Stun, which Mom says is inna big state called TEX-us, where she was livin’ at the time. My pooch mom was a stray, lost an in dire straits – she was PREG-nut an all alone on The Mean Steets till a nice man saved her, Thank Lassie, cuz preddy soon we arrived – all NINE of us. All BOYS!”
“Oh, WOOF! That musta been so scary, Timon!”
“I KNOW! We all wudda probly Bought the Doghouse, fur sure. Anyway, the man couldn’t keep us, so he hadda find Furever Homes for us. He asked Mom if she could take one of us an she did, cuz she buh-lieved we all duh-zerve a better life. An, Woof, Bonzo, even tho I’m still just a pupper, I totally know how lucky I am that she picked ME!”
Just then, a pretty black an white shepherd ran by an woofed hello.
“’S’cuse me. Back inna minute,” said Timon, an took off runnin’ with his pooch pal. After a few laps across the field, he zipped back an plopped down, a routine he would continue throughout the innerview.
“Sorry. I have tons of frens here! Wanna run with us?”
“I’d love to, but I’m on the job,” I said. “But I totally understand. What was it like movin’ here? You were just a little pup, right?”
“Yep. About 4 months old. A place called Panama City, which is where we lived until we came here this Ock-TOE-bur.
“THAT’s where I learned about swimmin’! There was a pool where we lived an Mom carefully placed me in it. I was real liddle but all four of my paws just started paddlin’ an I paddled all the way across the pool an jumped out on the other side. I’m like, ‘Woof! I DID that! What WAS that?’ Mom told me it’s called SWIMMIN’!
“Preddy soon after that, guess what? I discovered a Really BIG Buncha Water! It’s called the O-shun! I ran right in an splashed around. I was SO excited! PLUS, there’s a part right next to it with no water called, um, a BEECH! I found out you can DIG there! I LOVE DIGGIN!
Soon as you do, woosh, the O-shun come up an makes it all smooth again. Isn’t that SO Cool Kibbles!”
“Totally,” I replied. “I’ve done a liddle beech diggin’ in my time. But I was not that fond of sandy paws. I do love swimmin’ in my pool, however! So what was your journey to here like?”
“We drove in Mom’s CAR. I love ridin’ in the car, with my head out the window, an the wind in my ears! It’s Pawsome. I mostly nap. We stopped at two, um, they’re called mo-TELLS. I was very well-buh-haved.
“When we got to our complex here, I did a lottas chewin’, bein’ a pupper an all. Mostly slippers. But Mom taught me to not do that. I also learned about where to Do My Dooty an how to sit-for-a-treat, stuff like that. Turns out, I am smart AN well-buhaved. Mom says I’m a Good Listener.’”
“Tell me about your fave foodstuffs. An I know you have lotsa pooch pals!”
“I get Blue Buffalo an, for treats, Milk Bone. I also like peanut butter, wadermelon, apples an, speshully, CARROTS.
“I have tons of frens: In our complex I usually play with Mable. An Axel, he’s a German Shepherd. I hadda Pug fren in HEW-Stun. I met a coupla cats there, too. We played together an, when they said STOP, I ALWAYS stopped. Oakley helped me learn about stairs. That up-an-down stuff was a liddle scary. But I gotta say, I wasn’t ever scared of fellow pooches. Even big ones. When I was 6 weeks old, Mom says, I’d bark at a Very Gigantic Mastiff neighbor.
I’m preddy sure he thought I was a Goofball. I meet lotsa liddle humans on the BEECH. They always wanna pat me.
“Mom’s my BFF, of course. My Gramma Teta lives inna place far, far away called EEE-gipped, which is where my Mom’s from. I haven’t met her yet, but I think me an Mom’ll visit her some time. Or maybe she can visit us. That’d be So Cool Kibbles!”
Heading home, I was thinkin’ about frenly, fun lovin’ Timon, an how his scary beginning turned into such a Happy Ending. An the beginning of an excitin’, wonderful life. I hope he gets to meet his Gramma.
