Chico Cook found his Furever Home because of a Fur-nuh-chur Upgrade. Here’s his Tail.
Soon as the door opened, Chico zipped over for the Wag-an-Sniff. He’s an extremely neat-an-tidy Chi-waa-waa/Terrier mixture, black-an-cream, expressive ears, sincere brown eyes, egg-sellent poss-chur.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bonzo. Welcome! Come in an meet my Dad an Best Fren, Josh! We’ll sit in the living room, where it’s nice an peaceful.”
“A pleasure, Chico. Call me Bonz,” I said, lookin’ about. “Cool Kibbles place you have. So restful.”
Through wide windows, the woodsy back yard looked like the Best Place Ever for a pooch to hang out an play, grab a liddle snooze, observe squirrels.
“It is indeed,” Chico replied, trotting hopefully over to my assistant who had produced a couple of snacks from The Satchel, which he accepted puh-litely. “I love it here. I’m a Very For-chu-nut Pooch!”
“I’m eager to hear your story,” I told him.
Chico hopped onto his Dad’s lap. “Well, Bonz, I’m about 14 now, gettin’ Up There, ya know.
So, I was livin’ with this nice famly when, outta The Bloo, they decided to get Really Nice New Fur-nuh-chur. WELL, me bein’ a DOG an all, I’ve come to buh-leeve they musta felt I’d chew it or scratch it or jump on it or nap on it or engage in other activities that’d be det-truh-MEN-tal to the Really Nice New Fur-nuh-chur. So they sought a new home for me.”
“Seriously? That seems a liddle x-TREEM,” I blurted, thinkin’ about all the things dogs can do that even Really Nice New Fur-nuh-chur can’t. Like Fetch, Play Ball, Go On Walks, Snuggle, an be a Troo Fren Furever No Matter What. An more.
“I KNOW! Right?” Chico replied. “But it ackshully turned out GREAT cuz a Very Nice Lady, Sadie, who’s now my SIS-ter, an her HUZ-bun AJ, an their son Skye took me in, like a foster pooch. They were SO Cool Kibbles! Me an Skye have been BFFs for EVER. We napped together in my dog bed when we were liddle. He still does but he hangs over the edges now.”
“So, how’d you get here?”
“Well, Sadie is my Dad Josh’s daughter, an we’d all get together a lot, an me an My (future) Dad Josh just had this con-NECK-shun. Then, a few years later, 2020 I buh-leeve it was, Sadie was seein’ how much we really got uh-LONG. So she brought me to his house an said I should o-fish-shully be HIS doggo. Well, he thought about it for, like, a nano second, an I was like YESSS!”
“That’s PAW-some!” I exclaimed.
“Turns out, I’m a Great Watch Dog an, as Dad always says, ‘A Very Good Boy.’ I’m always checkin’ to see what he wants me to do next. He calls me an Old Gentleman cuz I’m getting’ Up There.”
“I hear ya,’” I said. “I, too, have found myself Up There! There’s a lot to be said for slowin’ down a bit.”
“So troo,” he agreed. “I love the sun! I go out on the patio, catch some rays, work on my tan, next to the sittin’ pool. (Not IN it, tho.) I’m NOT a fan of water (’cept in my bowl). Not a pool. Not the ocean. Not the river. (However, I do like walkin’ with Dad NEX to the river.)
“Also, Not BATHS. But I get one anyway. Once as week. In the shower. I sit outside it an Dad has to pick me up an place me in it. But gettin’ all nice an dry out in the sun with a fluffy towel is Tray Pleasant.
“An we have this roo-TEEN in the morning: Dad always gets up WAY EARLY. I mean, it’s DARK still. He comes out here an fixes his Coffee an stuff. Ten or 20 minutes later, I drag myself in, an plop down on my comfy nap pad by the window to finish sleepin’. Then, when it’s not SO Woofin’ Early, me an Dad take our Morning Walk around the block, an say HEY to neighbor pooches. Then we have breakfast, an I’ll maybe check the yard an flush out any random cats who might disturb (or eat) the various cree-churs who hang out here. (No offense to cats.)”
Chico leaned in, lowering his voice. “Don’t let it get around, but I sorta have a sorta grrrlfren.
Oreo, the new pupper in town. She’s a pretty liddle Boston Terrier and we play together.
Once I even escaped the yard an visited her. But it’s one of those May-December things.
She’s young an full of energy. I Don’t know WHAT I was thinkin’. I fear I’m too old.”
He sighed. I nodded. “Any other pals?”
“Sure. Rusty, around the corner. He’s a Shihtzu. An Old Gentleman like us. An, I have The Cool-Kibblest Human Famly. We have these pawsome picnic get-togethers. There’s my sis Sadie, AJ, Skye (he’s 13 now. Still my BFF!); Gramma Sandy an Grampa Jeff an Black Labs Champ an Largo.
“But, I mostly just wanna be wherever my Dad is. I sleep with him an he SAYS I snore, but he doesn’t mind. Sometimes he leaves me at home, which I don’t like One Bit, so I do this Howl-y, Whiny thing, but he leaves anyway. So, what I do is: I have this Pawsome Shiney Red Ball, which me an Dad both like a LOT. So, when he FINALLY gets home, I bring it to him, but I don’t ackshully give it to him, even though I’m SURE he wants it. I just show it off an then walk away, several times, to make sure he knows I didn’t like him ABANDONING ME like that!”
I stuffed my nose into my paw, trying not to laff.
“Any fave foodstuffs?”
“Kibbles, of course, but also what Dad eats when appropriate. Plus, we have duh-lishus grass in the back yard. I consider it an Herbal Supplement. An YO-gert for a speshull treat.”
Heading home, I thinkin’ what a pleasant time I had with Chico, just a coupla Old Gentlemen enjoyin’ the day, an sharin’ a fondness for YO-gert.
