If there was a Pooch o-LIMP-icks with a Bark cattagory, Karl an Lincoln River Petrosky would bring home Gold, Paws Down!!
Karl an Lincoln River (he says call him just Lincoln) are 5-year-old Mini-Schnauzer brothers from Indy-anna: Karl’s black with white on beard an paws; Lincoln is liver with cream.
They’re both very hansome.
As we knocked, we heard LOTSA LOUD BARKIN’. As the barkin’ continued, a frenly man opened the door a liddle bit an said “justa minute.” Preddy soon, he opened it again an said “come in,” which we did, an there they were, Karl and Lincoln, barkin’ like it was their JOB!
Which I guess it was. Any Bad Guys who consider Breakin’-an-Enterin’ should proo-dently reconsider.
When the barkin’ subsided an the brothers sat side-by-side checkin’ us out, I said, in my most frenly voice, “Good afternoon, I’m Bonzo, an this is my assistant. You must be Karl and Lincoln River. Such a pleasure to meet you.”
“Got any ID?” Karl asked.
I produced a bizz-ness card with my pickshur on it, an he gave it a coupla sniffs.
“Thanks. You can’t be too careful,” he said. “So come on in. Havva seat. This (he indicated the man) is our Dad, Joe. An this (a lady sitting inna nearby chair) is our sister Caitlin. Our sister Bonnie’s elsewhere.”
Greetings complete, I opened my notebook. “I appreciate your time, an I’m eager to hear your tail.”
“I’ll start cuz I’m older,” Karl said, an Lincoln piped up. “Yep. I’m the liddle brother cuz he was born, like, 15 seconds buh-for me.”
“Older is older,” Karl noted, then began their story. “Our human Momma, Catherine, hadda go to Heaven a liddle while back. We miss her a LOT! She always had Mini Schnauzers, an she an Dad had recently lost their pree-vee-us Schnauzers, Chai an Lulu. Well, Momma thought it’d be Cool Kibbles to get Dad puppies, a boy anna grrrl, for a Christmas suh-prize.
She found a breeder in Indiana who’d just hadda a bran new lidder, Nov. 5, an she sent pick-shurs. Momma’d already picked names: Karl (for peeple clothes designer Karl Lagerfeld) an Coco (for Coco Chanel, also a peeple clothes designer).
“However, the only liddle grrrl in our lidder had some ISH-yous, so Momma hadda pick another boy.”
“They picked ME!” Lincoln innerjected. “I was the liddlest an TOTALLY the cute-est! As a pupper, I caused The Brad Pitt Effect: When humans saw me, they gasped ‘Oooooo an Ahhhhh.’”
“Yeah, you pretty much were,” Karl agreed. “Cuz we couldn’t leave our pooch momma by ackshul Christmas, Mom and Caitlin created this PAW-some pick-chur book of us, bought lotsa pooch stuff, an wrapped it all up for Dad’s Christmas presents. He was SO egg-cited an Happy.
“A couple months later, Momma an Dad drove up to get us, an, by the time they got back drove home, my liddle brother had totally BON-ded with Dad.”
“I was so small,” Lincoln added, “I fit in Dad’s pocket!”
“Woof!” I exclaimed. “Of course they couldn’t call you Coco, bein’ a boy an all. So how’d you get that Cool Kibbles name?”
“Dad picked it cuz our breeder was up near a place called Lincoln Park, an there was a preddy river runnin’ through it. So …”
“Totally Crispy Biscuits!”
“Full disclosure,” Karl continued, “potty training was, shall I say, challenging. Sis tried putting harnesses on us so she could take us out to the proper spot. But soon as those harnesses went on, we just FROZE. Finally, she put a liddle fenced area in the yard an plopped us into it, so we did our duty where we were s’pose to.
“Sometimes Lincoln’s SO Liddle Brother-y. Like, if I havva toy, HE wants it. If I go out, HE wants to, also. If I sit, HE sits. If I’m with our Sis, HE wants to be. And we have a lotta Stare-Offs. I usually win.”
“True,” Lincoln agreed. “An we’re Florida Dogs now. We LOVE the weather, loungin’ in the sun under the um-BRELL-uh, maybe huntin’ some lizards.”
“After all,” added Karl, “our breed WAS originally rat catchers.”
“EEEEooooo!” said, Lincoln, squwunching up his face.
“Occasionally,” noted Karl, “while we’re hanging out on the front window seat, mindin’ our own bizness, the neighborhood cats sit Right Outside the window and STARE at us. Nose-to-nose. Makes us NUTS!!”
“We love music on car rides,” Lincoln segued. “Well, I do. Karl couldn’t care less. My fave is French jazz. TRAY Bee-N!”
With a wistful sigh, Karl announced, “I wanna get a pair of Doggles for lookin’ out the car window: wind in my face, ears blowin’ back, all kindsa smells hittin’ my nose, makes me feel like the Red Baron.
“Now that we’re muh-CHUR, we’re pretty well buh-haved. We like watchin’ the Yard Guys from the window seat; but when those delivery guys come to the door, not so much. Then we do our thing: Guard the House, singing the songs of our ancestors.”
“Yeah! BARK!” said Lincoln. “When we were puppers, we could sit on the ackshul SILL! OOoooo an somethin’ else I don’t do anymore is SWAT bugs. When I was a pupper, we were playin’ an I swatted a B! It stung me in the paw an I hadda go to the VET. Gramma Catherine was puppy sittin’, an she thought I was a goner. The VET gave me somethin’ called BENNY-drill, an I was all better. I don’t swat bugs anymore.”
“You like goin’ to Starbucks?” Karl asked. “WE sure do! We get those duhlishus Pup Cups.
We USTA getta Bark Box every month. But we demolished everything in it in, like, 5 minutes. So our sis called the Bark Box humans an they said they have speshull Heavy Dooty ones for pooches like us. So NOW we get ’em with tough nylon toys. PAWsome! My favrites are Garden Tools, I havva rake, anna shove-ULL!”
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about my charming new frens, an their funny stories, an how much companionship an barky joy they bring to their Dad an Sis.
Till next time,
