This week I visited a lady fren from Back in the Day, when she was a liddle puppy, with tons of energy an dognality, Reagan Link-Hall, an met the two newest members of her pooch famly, Evie an Royce Gunderson. Reagan’s a beautiful Pembroke Corgi an so’s Evie, an Royce is a Cardigan Corgi, a fine lookin’ trio if I do say so.
Following Wag-an-Sniffs all ’round an “How’ve you been? You’re lookin’ swell’s” buh-tween me an Reagan, Evie stepped up.
“SO, since I’m the Princess Royal of the famly, I’ll start. Reagan an I are haff sisters, an we all three come from the same EGGS-suh-lunt breeder in Minnie-SODA. My Important Papers Name is Evie Noel Gunderson an Royce’s is Rolls Royce Gunderson! Crispy Biscuits, Doncha think?”
“The crispiest!”
“This is mine, Royce’s an Reagan’s Full Time Staff, errr, I mean, our humans: me an Royce’s Mom Emily, an our cousins Samantha an Jakob. They’re here for Spring Break from CAH-ludge. Our Dad Ryan’s workin’. We’re enjoyin’ stayin’ here with Aunt Jane, Uncle Bob an Reagan for a liddle bit. Mom an Dad just started bein’ Snowbirds in March.”
“Congrats!” I exclaimed. “I imagine it’s way different down here in warm Florida than Minnie-SODA, way up at the tippy top.”
“TROO DAT!” Interjected Royce. “It was fun playin’ in the snow, makin’ snow mazes, an tunnels an stuff, but we LOVE it here in VERO Beach. Speshully the warm part. An the beach part. It’s WAY fun jumpin’ around in that big buncha water …”
“It’s called The Ocean,” corrected Evie.
“Yeah, THAT!” said Royce. “I could splash around in it all day! BUT,” he looked at me with a Very Serious Expression, “Don’t drink it! You totally shouldn’t EVER drink it. I found that out.”
“He sure did!” agreed Evie. “As for me, I don’t enjoy getting all soggy an sandy. I’m still adjusting to Sandy Toes.”
“I hear ya,” I sympathized. “Um, if you don’t mind my askin,’ Miss Evie, you said you’re the Princess Royal. That sounds fascinating. How’d you get to be that?”
“Indeed it IS fascinating, Mr. Bonzo. I shall elaborate. You prolly already know that a very important human lady called Queen Elizabeth, who lives across what humans call the Pond (but it’s really not, it’s an ocean, anyway), she LOVES Corgis, she always has a whole bunch of ’em.
They’re the Royal Pooches. So, since WE’RE Corgis, TOO, we’re also royal, right?”
“Ummm, right!” I agreed.
“PLUS, guess what’s even MORE amazing? Corgis are magical!”
“Wait! Wha-at?”
“It’s TROO! Cuz, long, long ago, even longer ago in Dog, fairy warriors rode our ancestors into battle, aboard the fur saddles we have on our backs!”
“An also cuz we are BRAVE an BOLD,” Royce added.
“Shut the Doghouse Door!” I exclaimed. “That is, like, the Cool Kibble-est thing I ever heard!”
“I KNOW! Right?” Agreed Evie.
“Well, in LOO of Fairy Warriors,” I continued, “whaddya you like to do for exercise?”
“I like playin’ with my red tennis ball,” said Royce. “I can catch it in the air.”
“An I like barkin’ at him while he’s doin’ it,” piped up Evie. “To cheer him on.
“Sometimes he accidently gets into Reagan’s gi-normous collection of tennis balls. All different colors. We also like goin’ on leash walks in the neighborhood, all three of us together – tails held high, boodies wigglin’.”
“You’re a Showoff sometimes,” Reagan noted, lookin’ at Evie.
“Talk about bein’ a Showoff!” retorted Evie. “I’m not the one who insists on walkin’ in front, with that liddle prance thing goin’ on.”
“Now, ladies,” Royce said. “You’re both beautiful princesses.”
Turning to me, he whispered, “sometimes I have to keep the peace between those two.”
Hurriedly changing the subject, I commented, “I bet you all do lotsa traveling.”
“I sure do,” said Reagan. “Cars an airplanes. I ackshully have Frequent Flyer Miles, and I’m a Hilton Honors pooch, too.”
“I love ridin’ in the car,” Royce added.
“I DON’T!” said Evie. “Not even a liddle. I get ang-ZIETY!”
“Any pooch pals?” I inquired.
“Just each other so far,” said Royce. “Up in Minnie-SODA, we lived out in the country, with lotsa room to run an play, fields an woods an stuff. Our frens were mostly squirrels, rabbuts an deer. No other pooches. We’re not fuh-mill-yer with City Life yet. We’re still, you know, gettin’ USE to it. So far, with fellow pooches – we mostly bark at ’em.”
“Cuz that’s what Reagan does,” noted Evie.
“Gotta admit, that’s true,” said Reagan. “I am a liddle bit Over the Doghouse when it comes to barkin.’ An, you might have noticed, us Corgis have pretty Serious Barks. Ackshully – full disclosure – I am currently in a Program. I have a trainer who’s workin’ with me to cut WAY down on my, shall I saw, constant verbalizing. I guess I just wanna be sure Everybody knows that, even though I’m the smallest, I’m still Big Pooch in the Neighborhood,” she added, with determination.
I had noticed, when they weren’t talkin’, Reagan, Royce an Evie had this intrestin’, kinda hilarious, way of lyin’ down – flat on their tummies with their legs out in all directions. I tried it myself an toppled over in a heap. They all laughed an Royce said, “Oh, Mr. Bonzo, no offense.
It’s just sorta a Corgi Thing. It’s called A Sploof.”
“Good to know,” I replied. “Any favrite snacks?”
“Mom gets out our Pure Bites Beef Treats when we aren’t listening to her like we’re s’pose to. She knows we’re open to bribery,” said Evie.
“We agreed to call it Positive Reinforcement,” Royce reminded her.
I couldn’t buh-leeve an hour had passed already. Heading home, I was imagining’ Reagan, Royce and Evie, wearing beautiful fairy harnesses, flyin’ above a magical wood with fairy warriors on their backs, savin’ the kingdom from Bad Guys. (When I tried the Sploof again at home, I toppled over again. I hope gramma an grampa didn’t see me.)
Till next time,
