Patriot McKeown is a joyful, in-thuzzy-ASTIC poocheroo: a hansome Black Lab with extra helpings of Best Labrador Qual-uh-tees.
Everything, nose to tail, was waggin’ as he bounded up to greet me an my assistant.
“Patriot McKeown, I preh-zoom,” I said. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too, Mr. Bonzo! Meet my Mom, Debby Cook, an my Dad (an BFF), Brian McKeown. He sometimes calls me Stinky or Liddle Man, but you can call me jus Patriot.”
As we got situated, Patriot busied himself checkin’ out the duh-lish-shus snacks my assistant brought forth from The Satchel. (Don’t tell, OK? But SOMEbuddy forgot to get more Dog Snacks, so my assistant hadda syrup-TISHUS-ly substitute – cat treats.) Patriot sniffed ’em out for a nano-second, then gobbled ’em UP.
“Are you ready for me to tell you stuff, Mr. Bonzo?”
“Absolutely, Patriot. Go for it!”
“OK, so, buh-fore ME, Mom an Dad had Regis, a Black Flat-Coated Re-TREE-ver. Regis loved Mom, of course, but him an Dad were BFFs. Cuz Dad worked from home, they decided to get another pooch, as a FREN for Regis. They asked around, an preddy soon heard back from South Florida Lab Rescue, about a 7-pupper litter (mine) bein’ FOSS-tered onna farm inna place called WEEK-ee WATCH-ee. They sent pickshurs, also.
“By the time Dad, Mom an Regis got there, there were only four of us left. We were 9 weeks old. Mom’d always heard you should DEFINITELY pick the bounciest, frenliest, playfull-est pupper in the litter. WELL, I was the OP-posite. I wasn’t the teeniest bit outgoing. When it was my turn to get picked up for the Meet-an-Greet, I WASN’T like my cuddly/wuddly littermates: I turned my back on everybody, an HID! They hadda drag me outta the puppy pen by my caboose.”
“Oh, Woof, Patriot,” I said, tryin’ not to laff at THAT image.
“Only Lassie knows why Mom an Dad and Regis picked ME anyway. Turns out, Regis was a GREAT big brother. He showed me the ROPES (not ackshul ropes, I found out), an also lots of Important Dog Stuff.
“But then, he got that Very Bad Duh-ZEES, CAN-ser, an hadda go to Dog Heaven Too Soon. I tried to be the Best Dog I Could BE, for Mom an Dad. Dad says I SAVED him, an I’m Very Glad about that. I was just bein’, you know, my SELF. They’re the Best Mom an Dad Ever, an I’m one lucky pooch. When hoomans say to Dad that I’m jus like FAM-ly, Dad says ‘Not Jus LIKE family: He IS famly!’”
“PAWSOME,” I replied.
“Anyway, Mr. Bonzo, guess what my name was buh-fore we were rescued: CHUCKWAGON! Can you buh-LEEVE it? Probly cuz I wanted to eat all the time. Still Do. Thank Lassie, Mom an Dad changed it.”
“So, tell me about your life these days,” I suggested. “Any fave frens?”
“YESS! Grannie Annie! I LOVE her! She shares her vanilla ice cream with me!! She my Mom’s Mom. Also pooch NAYburrs Scooby (a Vizla I think), an Simba, a Golden Doodle. Plus, Lexi an Truffle, Labs, also. They LOVE to swim in their pool, which I totally DON’T. I think it’s cuz, when I was a tiny pupper, I fell in our pool an freaked myself out! Thank Lassie, Mom instantly hauled me out. I love the ocean, my bath and playin’ in the hose, but NOT the pool.”
“I get that,” I sympathized.
“Anyway, On Leash Walks, there’s lotsa Meet-n-Greets. I’m Pretty frenly; however, if anyone should snap at me, or Mean Bark, well, that’s IT for me. I can get my GROWL on if I need to.”
“I don’t doubt that, Patriot,” I nodded.
“Ackshully, Mr. Bonzo, right here at home, I love jus spendin’ Quality Time on the screen porch, observin’ those liddle green lizard guys, an the birds an budderflies. I’d NEVER, EVER chase or grab one, tho. I just observe. An PONder.
“I do have this Food Thing: I sorta duh-VOWER it. I love buh-NAA-nuzs with peanut budder; an Mom’s beef stoo she makes speshul for me. She mixes it all up with my kibbles. It’s got green BEENS an stuff, an also BROTH (but NOT CELL-ree. I don’t LIKE cell-ree! It’s all stringy an gets in my teeth).
“I have a Kong bone which Dad stuffs with baby CARE-utts. We play Kong Fetch, an I chomp on it an get the CARE-utts out, an EAT ’em!
“I watch TV with Mom an Dad, mostly golf an news with Dad, anna moo-vee every night,” Patriot continued. “I always bark when there’s a dog or horse or cow.
“Oh, an I have LOTSA toys. My faves are two stuffy bottles with LAY-bulls – Merlot an Rose.
“I enjoy playin’ in Dirty LAWN-dry, an pulling NAP-kins an dishtowels off the kitchen counter (Regis taught me that). This one time, I chewed the corner off the OR-ree-N-tull rug, which I learned is NOT a Good Thing.
“I also like to help Dad work. He says I’m Very Smart an anna-LIDDY-cull: we do what’s called FIE-nance, which has lotsa NUM-bers, an Important WORDS like MICRO-soft an n-VIDDY-uh.
My favrite Speshul Work Words are: RISK; GOLD; an SILL-ver.”
“Do you travel?”
“Not much. But I like it. I have my own Doggy Corner in our SUV. One time we went to this Very Crispy Biscuits place, way, WAY down at the Total END of this state, called The KEES. It was like, you go off the end an there’s lotsa EYE-luns (KEYS is a speshul word for EYE-luns) with bridges, anna Very Very Long Road, an wadder on both sides. On one side is the O-shun an on the other it’s called The Golf. I never saw ANYBODY playin’ golf, just lotsa wadder. We stayed onna EYE-lun called EYE-luh-muh-RAH-duh; an also one called LOWER matta-COME-bee.”
Headin’ home, I was picksurin’ soggy liddle Patriot bein’ hauled outta his swimmin’ pool; happily nibblin’ on his carrots; an watchin’ golf with his Dad. An thinkin’ I might take a liddle dip in my pool when I get home.
Till next time,
