This week I had a super fun innerview with a coupla rescue hound-ish mixtures, Bentley an Latte Shearer, step brother an sister poocheroos who are at Totally Opposite Ends of the Doganality Spek-trum. Like, TOTALLY. But it works for them, an I laffed preddy much all the way home.
Walkin’ to their door, me an my assistant heard non-stop Barkety-Barkin’. A frenly man opened the door an a large hansome not-barkin’ pooch greeted us. Buh-hind them, we spotted the source of the Major Barkety-Barkin’: a lady was tuggin’ with all her might onna yellow leash with a slightly smaller pooch attached, pullin’ on it an excitedly bouncin’ around, not in a scary way, just Really, Really excited an EEE-ger.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bonzo,” the not-bouncin’ pooch said, approaching for the Wag-an-Sniff. “I’m, Bentley Shearer; this is my Dad Brad; an THAT (he indicated the happy whirlwind) is my enthusiastic liddle sis Latte, an our Mom, Jeanie. Latte likes to get Up-Close-An-Person-null. I hope you don’t mind.”
We got comf-tubble on the couch an my assistant rooted around in The Satchel for Snacks, while Bentley an Latte (mostly Latte) provided frenly bumps an slurps an happy woofs an lotsa wags (all of which my assistant tends to encourage). Both pooches were wearin’ snazzy bandanas. They’re a nice gold/cream color, lighter on tummies an paws. Bentley has lotsa black around his eyes, muzzle, mouth, an ears. (He learned later, that’s cuz he’s a Black Mouth Curr.) Both have bright brown eyes, an Latte’s ears are a liddle more sticky-uppy than Bentley’s.
From her position haff-way onto my assistant’s lap, Latte added, “We Speshully like Springer Spaniels like you, Mr. Bonzo, cuz our Aunt Anne raises ’um. So we’re fuh-MILL-yer.”
Greetings, snacks an woofs concluded, I opened my notebook. “I’m eager to hear your tails.”
“I’ll start cuz I came first,” said Bentley. “I’m 12. When Mom an Dad found me, I was only 10 months. Dad’s German Shepherd hadda go to Dog Heaven an Mom was lookin’ for another one at Dogs an Cats Forever. They had one, but it was nippy an grumpy. Then Mom spotted ME. She tried me ON LEESH, an I was, like, BOOM CHOCKLAKA! So Mom said to Dad, ‘You should see this hound dog!’
“He DID, an the rest is HISS-try. Not to brag, but I’ve always been preddy much PER-fect, just a Chill kinda pooch. Anyway, Mom and Dad always had TWO dogs to keep each other cump-ny, so, after a while, they decided to get another pooch.”
“That was ME!” Latte innerjected, bouncin’ up an nuzzlin’ my assistant.
“YEP!” Bentley continued. “It’s kinda funny, ackshully. See, Mom was lookin’ around at the Humane Society, rememberin’ her last pooch, a Golden Retreever, who was very calm an suh-reen (words that would NEVER be used to describe Latte).”
“I’m 7 now,” said Latte. “Then, I was only 4 months. I’d been rescued as a stray pupper, tied to a dumpster, an now I was inna strange place. Well, Thank Lassie, Mom picked me. After I got use to my Furever home an famly, my Troo Self emerged.”
“THAT’S for sure!” laughed Bentley. “Mom an Dad call her 7 goin’ on 2.”
“Can I help it if I have Endless Energy?” Latte asked. “I LOVE Day Care at Dogs’ Life. I go every Friday, an I RUN with the Big Dogs! I also love to swim. An maybe I do get the Major Zoomies and leep like a deer, and maybe bark a lot …”
“THAT’S an understatement,” Bentley noted.
“WELL,” continued Latte, “our house sitter, Auntie Alisha (we LOVE her), says ‘Latte just has a lot to say.’ An I consider it Singin’ the Songs of my Ancestors. I want to honor ’em, ya know? Also, sometimes when I’m scared, I BARK! A lot! Like with thunder. An fireworks.
They scare the Woof outta me. One time, on muh-MORRY-ull Day, Mom an Dad were gone and there were fireworks an I was in my crate an I freeked out an escaped an Mom an Dad hadda buy me a new crate. Now I nap in it.”
“I love Day Care, too,” Bentley noted. “I don’t go myself, but when Latte does, I have the nice quiet house to myself.”
“How’d you get your Furever names?”
“My uh-RIDGE-inal name was Big Ben. But there’s this football human with the same nickname, an DAD is NOT a fan of his team, so they changed it to Bentley, so I’d still sorta recognize the sound.”
“Cook Kibbles,” I observed.
“Mom named me cuz she says my color is like latte, which is some kinda drink humans like,” Latte explained.
“Do you swim? Have any fave toys?”
“I DON’T swim!” Bentley said firmly.
“I sorta do,” said Latte. “It took kinda a long time. Mom’d plop me in the pool an show me how, an I’d paddle fast like a motor boat to get out. Then next day I’d forget everything I learned, an hafta learn all over again. Dad says it was like the movie ‘Groundhog Day.’”
“We gotta cool toy from Aunt Anne: a stuffy log with a buncha stuffy squeaky chipmonks inside. We pull ’em all out an Mom stuffs ’em all back in,” said Latte. “I also have this liddle THING: I sneak into the bathroom closet and grab a toilet paper roll, remove all the fluffy paper an then get the cool roll thingy inside. Then I prance around with it. I mean, not too many pooches have that speshull skill.”
I nodded. “I imagine not.”
“All in all,” mused Bentley, “me an Latte get along preddy well. I mean, she bullies me sometimes, makes me a liddle nuts, but we have our beds nex to each other an we sleep side-by-side. An we watch ‘Jeopardy’ on TV with Mom an Dad, on our speshul blankets.”
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about my two new frens, barky ex-ZOO-berent Latte, an Chill, laid-back Bentley, an thinkin’ What a Lucky Dog I am gettin’ to meet so many of you Cool Kibbles poocheroos every week.
