I consider myself a Very Lucky Dog, not only cuzza my gramma and grampa, but also cuz I get to meet you pawsome poocheroos, hear your Cool Kibbles tails, an have lotsa intresting adventures.
This week I met Yogi Berra Raquer, a dashin’ liddle rescue pooch sportin’ curly-ish gray hair with white trim, anna totally irresis-tubble face: gray eyebrows, white beard and mustache, soulful brown eyes. Yogi’s the O-FISH-ull Studio Dog an Muse for his Mom – a pruh-fessional AR-dist who paints PICK-chures. Crispy Biscuits, right?
Yogi an two frenly humans met me an my assistant at the door.
“Please come in, Mr. Bonzo,” he said, following the Wag-an-Sniff. “I recognized you from your phodo in the PAYper. I’m Yogi Raquer and this is my Mom, Ena, an my Papa Tom.”
“A pleasure to meet you all,” I replied. Yogi led us into a comfy living room, an we settled in.
As usual, after an OK from Yogi’s Mom an Papa, my assistant produced a coupla yummy bacon treats, which Yogi accepted very puh-litely.
With pencil poised, I said, “I’m eager to hear your Tail, Yogi. I know you’re not from here originally, an that you’ve had some close calls.”
“Yep, I sure have: Thank Lassie, I survived AN found my Furever Famly. I guess that journey started with Mom an Papa. See, Mom had pooches her entire life till when she was a grown-up, an her an Papa were doin’ LOTSA traveling all over the WORLD, which was grrreat, ’cept they couldn’t have a dog when they were in Cool-Kibbles-but-far-away places like A-shuh an Aus-TRAIL-yuh.
“Mom loved adventures but she also really, REALLY missed havin’ a pooch. Well, Papa ree-lized that an finally said to Mom: ‘YOU’RE GONNA GET A DOG! Period! Full stop!’
“Mom wanted a liddle, fluffy, quiet dog, an she prayed to find The Right Dog. She an Papa were livin’ in Air-uh-ZONE-uh at the time, an they drove far-an-wide, checkin’ animal rescue or-gunna-ZAY-shuns. But the puppers they liked all had long waitin’ lists. THEN, guess what? Mom came upon a shelter just 2 blocks from their house, an found a pooch that was PER-fect AN would be ready to go to a new home on NOON of That Very Day! An Guess Who it WAS?”
“YOU! Right?”
“Yeppers! I was an Owner Drop-Off, only 1 year old, an in preddy droopy shape: Only weighed 10 pounds (I’m 24 pounds now) an my coat was shaved, probly cuzza bugs or sore spots. I already had the No-Puppies Pruh-CEED-jure, which was good. But I was pretty quiet, not all wiggly an waggy: I was kinda a buh-draggled mess, an confused about where I was.”
“Oh, Woof! Yogi! That musta been scary,” I exclaimed.“Yeah, pretty much. But, for some reason, I wasn’t scared of Mom. I could tell she was a Dog Person, an SHE already KNEW she wasn’t going home without ME. She called Papa, an then, right at NOON, she scooped me up an carried me to my Furever Home.
“I loved her right away. An she loved me. An I totally fell in love with Papa, too.”
“What was it like, at, first, your very own Furever Home?” I asked.
“It was GREAT, but also Totally New, an I kinda offen got Very Excited, even sometimes going what Mom called NUTS. So they ree-lized I probly needed a Trainer, an, lucky for me, they found Elite Florida Canine College, an my teacher Miss Tara. She’s Cool Kibbles an, Mom says, after only 3 lessons I was Much Calmer an didn’t GO NUTS anymore.”
“So,” I wondered, “Have you found out what your mixture is? Whaddya do for exer-size?”
“Ackshully, Mr. Bonzo, Mom an Papa had one of those DNA tests done (that stands for Dogs Now an Always, I’ve heard). Anyway, it says I’m mostly Schnauzer, but also Mini Poo, Chihuahua, Cocker Spaniel, Shih Tzu, Terrier an Maltese.”
“Woof! Yogi, you’re a true Dog-of-the-World!”
“I like to think so,” he said proudly. “The big dog park is SO fun! I have lotsa pals there, pooches an humans. They all know me. That’s where I like to show off my SpeciaI Glide.”
“I bet that’s Super Crispy Biscuits!” I said with admiration.
“Totally! Also I really like the beach, speshully when the sun comes outta the water an goes up into the sky. But I only play on the sandy part: The soap sudsy part’s a little much. My totally favorite toys are LAMMS.”
I HAD noticed a liddle crate filled to the brim, overflowin’ with LAMMS of all sizes.
“I love LAMMS,” he ree-iterated. “Me, Mom an Papa play LAMM Toss. We also have this roo-TEEN: We watch TV in the afternoon, THEN we do exer-sizes. That’s when I get my LAMMS out.
He got a liddle more serious an continued, “We did have a very scary experience a coupla years ago: We were havin’ a nice walk when suddenly this Very Big, Fuh-ROW-shus Dog broke away and uh-TACKED me. I was terrified, an ran right into the road, an all the traffic.
Mom an Papa both fell tryin’ to grab me, an I figured I was Toast. Then Mom popped up an dashed right out into the road, waving at the traffic, makin’ the cars stop (Thank Lassie), while Papa ran out an grabbed me. I was shakin’ like a leef.”
“Oh, WOOF!, Yogi!” I managed.
“I’m not much of a barker, except to protect Mom. She fixes me duh-lishus chicken an kibbles; Brock-lee, sweet puh-TAY-do, an SAM-mun. She also sings to me, ‘You Are My Sunshine,’ AN when she’s painting I’m her faithful Stoo-dio Dog, her MUSE. She puts a big, white, blank CAN-vuss on her EEE-zul, then she doodles some lines, then takes a liddle brush-onna-stick an twirls it around in colored blobs of paint, an turns it into beautiful flowers an other things.”
Headin’ home, I was envisioning Yogi prancin’ for his dog park pals, watchin’ TV with his Papa, an sittin’ beside his Mom as she creates wonderful pick-shurs. I was also considerin’ giving Brock-lee another chance.
Till next time,
