This week I innerviewed Augustus Austin (AKA Auggie the Doggie), a TRAY hansome Cavalier King Charles Spaniel (CKCS) with a PET-agree an PAYpers an, probly, a pooch Mom and Dad with fancy names; so you might think he’s a Total Snobnose. But he’s NOT!
Augustus and a nice man welcomed me an my assistant, who already had a snack from The Satchel at the ready, broken into appropriately small bits an awaitin’ permission.
The Wag-n-Sniff ensued.
“I’m so happy to meet you, Mr. Bonzo,” Auggie said buh-tween bites. “I saw you at the Parade of Champions. Please call me Auggie. This is my Dad an BFF Darrell. My Mom Susie’s elsewhere.”
Sittin’ nex to his Dad, Auggie looked REE-gull but re-laxed. He’s what’s o-FISH-ully called TRY-color: black, white an gold. Bein’ a Spaniel myself (English Springer variety), I felt like we were sorta related, ’cept he’s a Toy an I’m regular.
“I’m ready to hear your tail,” I said, opening my notebook.
“OK! So, I’m one of those Snowbirddogs, an also a COVID Dog, cuz Dad an Mom got me during that Awful Duh-ZEEZ when all the humans hadda stay home an wear masks an they were all lonely an concerned, an decided to get a PET for CUMP-nee. By the way, I’m gonna be 6 in MAY!”
“Cool Kibbles! Congrats, Auggie!” I said, feelin’ just the teeniest bit old.
“Thanks! So, I was born atta BREE-der’s in o-HI-o. Then what happened was, see, Dad an Mom were Totally King Charles Cavalier FANS. I was their fifth! Their fourth, Duchess, hadda go to Dog Heaven (she was 13), an Dad said, ‘NO more dogs! It’s Too Sad!’
“Well, as you probly know, that hardly ever works.”
I nodded. It hardly EVER does.
“So,” Auggie continued, “Mom an Dad (who were also livin’ in o-HI-o at the time) started lookin’ for another CKC, but, cuz all the humans were scoopin’ up all the dogs, it took a liddle while. By the time they found me, I was about 5 months old. Dad came to get me an I was great for the whole 2-hour drive. I still love to travel. Dad calls me a Hood Orna-mutt. Right from the start, Dad was My Person! Of course, I totally love Mom, but me an Dad’re Just Like THAT, anna bag of kibbles.”
“I totally understand,” I said, a liddle wistfully. “Me an my Mom were always like that. So, what was it like with your Furever Family at first?”
“OH, I was totally comf-tubble right away. However, since I still hadda lotta puppy in me, I chewed stuff, which is preddy much a puppy’s JOB, right?”
“Preddy much,” I had to agree.
“Anyway, I chewed Dad’s X-pensive loafers AN his Barbour jacket basically ALL UP. I wouldn’t say Dad was Happy, but he understood, Thank Lassie.”
“For sure,” I agreed, then segued, “What’s life like as a Snowbirddog? Got any pooch pals?”
“When we’re up in Maine, we go out in the boat. I ALWAYS wear my life jacket an pretend I’m Batman Dog, fightin’ crime to save man(an dog)kind. An I Really Like PEEP-ple. When Dad an Mom have CUMP-nee, I get all excited and BARK. Frenly barks, of course! An there’s a man, Joey, who’s always ridin’ around the nay-ber-hood inna funny liddle box thingy with wheels, doing lotsa kinds of work. An he always has a treat for me. Sometimes I just jump right in his lap.
Whenever I see one of those funny thingys (Dad calls it a golf cart), I get all excited. If it’s not Joey, I get bummed out.”
“For sure,” I sympathized.
“As you know, Bonzo, THIS community is TRAY Pooch Frenly. People set out bowls of wader for us pooches an always say HI. Me an Dad leash walk all the way around the pond, an up to the Tennis Center. I’m in charge of where we walk, of course, but sometimes Dad says there are ROOLS, cuz we hafta share with CAR trah-fick. If we havva dis-AGREE-mutt about the route, Dad sometimes hasta sorta drag me, you know, cuzza those ROOLS. We’re still discussin’ that.
“I have lotsa pooch pals: Bailey’s always lickin’ my face; an Zoe, she was a Doodle Mixture. Then she hadda go to Dog Heaven. We were all Very Sad. But guess what? Now I have her BED, which makes me feel better. One of my frens up in Maine, Maggie, is a CKCS with the same colors as me.”
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about how even tho he’s a Purebred, Auggie is Totally NOT a Snobnose. Then I ree-lized I couldn’t remember ANY of the purebred pooches I’ve innerviewed as bein’ Snobnoses. THEN it dawned on me that I had assumed they might be. But I was wrong. I think there’s a lesson in there somewhere. I was also reminding myself to ask Gramma to please get me some Sundays for Dogs kibbles.
