Charlie Ray is a suave Dog-of-the-World Toy Poodle, 7 dapper pounds of enthusiasm and ZWAH-duh-VEEV. He an his human answered the door an I innerduced myself an my assistant.
“Hello, Hello, welcome!” he exclaimed, trotting up for the Wag-an-Sniff. “I’m Charlemagne Ray (call me Charlie) an this is my Mommy Jackie. May I offer you anything?”
I politely declined.
“Please excuse the sparsity of furniture. We’ve just moved in an are still organizing. We do have our tree up, however. Our humans can use these lovely stools at the breakfast bar. It is such a pleasure to meet you. I hope I can provide sufficiently amusing AAH-neck-dotes for you.”
Judging from his eee-BOO-lee-unt dogganality an energy, I had no doubts at all. “Your tree is beautiful,” I told him. “I understand you’re a world traveler. I can’t wait to hear your tails.”
I had immediately noticed how fluffy his curly coat was, an had to comment. “Your coat is uh-MAZ-ing, every curl perfectly fluffed. My compliments to your stylist.”
“Well, thank you Bonz. Since I’m only 7 pounds I strive to get as much VOLL-yum out of my curls as possible. Plus, I am a Selfie Dog, so I hafta always be READY! Mommy combs me every day because I get MATTED so quickly. Anyway, yes, I guess I am, as you say, a world traveler. Even tho I’m not even one-anna-haff yet I’ve been one lucky poocheroo. So, shall I begin?”
“Ready when you are.”
“Before me, Mommy’s companion was Bella, a beautiful Italian Greyhound who went to Dog Heaven the summer of 2020. Mommy was very sad an lonely so, that fall, she began looking for a small, smart, easily trainable pooch an at last found ME on a website called The Puppy Spot.
“All us Puppy Spot puppers are Top Notch, cuz our breeders are checked out, an we get nose-to-tail health checks, an come with a 10-year guarantee. PLUS, we can only be come-PAN-yuns, not breeders or show pooches. An here’s the Cool Kibble-est part. We have our own speshull transportation: I got flown from In-dee-ANN-uh all the way to where Mommy was – which was Boca Ra-TONE, aboard a puppies-only plane with our own crew an my personal flight attendant!”
“Are you WOOFIN’?” I asked.
“Nope! No Woof! But I couldn’t go when I was 8 weeks old, which is the usual age. You see, pooches aren’t allowed to fly till they weigh at least 2 pounds, an I didn’t get to that till I was 12 weeks. Mommy met my plane an gave me lots of snuggles, of course, then she plopped me into my own Crispy Biscuits liddle bag an took me straight to The Beach, which is her Favrite Place.
I loved it right away. I zoomed around an got all wet an sandy. It was great! Soon as we got home, Mommy washed me off in the shower. Now, every morning I give Mommy a wake-up lick on the face (Mommy is a Morning Person an I am a Morning Pooch), then we walk on the beach, practice my Sit. Stay. Come. Down, an watch the sunrise. How do you think it always knows when to come up? I don’t think it’s ever missed.”
“I’ve wondered that myself,” I admitted.
“Sometimes me an Mommy an her frens pick up trash on the beach,” Charlie continued. “Why do humans mess it up like that, I wonder? Anyway, we call ourselves Trashy Beachers.”
“That is So re-SPON-subble of you,” I remarked. “Tell me about your travels,” I urged.
“Mommy has a-PART-mutts in del-RAY, which is pretty close to here; an in man-HATTEN, New York, which is sometimes real cold; an Steamboat, Colorado, where it also gets pretty cold an snowy an then I wear my coat an boots; an in Neess, France. So I get to fly a lot. I mostly doze in my comfy bag. One time Me an Mommy went to this Big Fancy Party inna place called CAN. (It was spelled like CANINES ’sept with no ‘i’, so I thought there might be lotsa dogs, but there weren’t that many. It was a liddle confusing.) Anyway, there was a Whole Bunch of humans there called suh-LEBB-ruddies. Some of ’em were real nice an some of ’em were snobnoses, and they were all watchin’ movies an eatin’ fancy foodstuffs. Me an Mommy sat at an outdoor café an watched ’em. It was TRAY intresting.
“One time in Texas I got to fly in this really, really fast plane called a Hawker 900. It was super excitin’ but kinda loud. Now that we’re here, we have a whole new way to get around. I can’t wait to try it. It’s called a Vespa, which is sorta like a bicycle, but more fancy, with my Very Own Special Basket on the front. I hope I get to wear Doggles. I think I’d look Super Cool Kibbles, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely! Any pet pals? Fav toys?”
“I’m a very social kinda poocheroo. My beach pals are Larry an Lucky, they’re Chinese Crested Puffs; Ozzie, he’s a poo, I think; an Archie, a Whippet. I haven’t had a lot of experience with cats, thus far, but I’d be open to it. I also have a big, tall basket filled with squeaky toys. I jump in an disappear, then toss out every single toy. I have a feeling Mommy doesn’t like that part of it as much as I do. I also ADORE Fetch. I bet I could bring that ball back 1,000 times!
“All in all, Bonz, you can put me down as a Happy, Secure Guy. One Fortunate Pooch.”
Heading home I was thinking what it’d be like to travel like Dog-of-the-World Charlie does. Exciting! The longest trip I’ve even taken was to here from my breeder in Jupiter when I was a pupper. Truth be told, I’m totally content writing about other pooches’ adventures from my nice comftubble office.
Till next time,
