Innerviewing pooches of the Younger Generation is always extra fun cuz they’re mostly super happy an bouncy an eager for What’s Next! Such as this week’s innerview-eee, Buddy Martinez: Buddy’s a frenly 2-anna-haff-year-old American Bully with a very expressive face, including an ex-CEP-shun-ully Boop-ubble pink-an-black nose. Altho there’s 85 pounds of him, he’s still a silly, ram-bunk-shus puppy at heart.
“HI! Mr. Bonzo!” he greeted me, bounding up for the Wag-an-Sniff. “I’m Buddy an this is my MOM, Melanie! My human brother Jose is elsewhere. I havva whole buncha stuff to tell you!
Do you wanna a snack or anything? Come’on, let’s go sit down!”
“Thanks, I’m good,” I replied. “Can’t wait to hear your story, Buddy. I’m writin’ it all down right here in my notebook!”
“Cool Kibbles!” he exclaimed, climbing onto his Mom’s lap, obscuring most of her.
“Mom says I’m a Velcro pooch. I buh-leeve that’s a speshull breed!” he added with pride.
“Totally!” I agreed, as Buddy snuggled an his Mom patted him gently. “So, how’d you an your Mom find each other?”
“Well, Mom’s PREE-vee-us pooch, Jessie, had gone to Dog Heaven an, about 2 months after, my Future Human Brother Jose decided to check out rescue puppers on The Net just for no reason.”
I nodded. That’s often how such tails begin.
“Anyway, Jose got on the H.A.L.O. rescue site and saw MY litter (me an my three brothers).
Obviously we were adorable, almost-but-not-quite ready for Furever Homes. Well, Jose showed Mom, an Mom decided to go to H.A.L.O. ‘Just To Look.’ Soon as I saw her I preddy much knew She was My Furever Mom. She knew it too, cuz she put a duh-posit on me right Then an There. I think it might’a been cuz my nose looked like a liddle heart at the time.
Then, when I was 10-anna-haff weeks old, I got to go to my Furever Home!”
“Was it hard to get use to at first?”
“Naw! It was comfy an WAY fun! Altho, probably not quite so fun for Mom at first cuzza my bein’ a ram-BUNK-shus puppy an all, an there was lotsa stuff I still hadda learn. CHEWIN’ was my big thing. As I’m sure you know, humans have lotsa stuff that’s ear-ree-ZISS-tubble to us puppers. For me it was the wood molding. Pretty much all of it. AN my fluffy dog bed.
That was SO Fun!! There was stuffin’ everywhere! Then I went to a speshul dog class at PetSmart and pretty soon I calmed down, not a moment too soon. Mom was glad. I also learned the Basics: sit, stay, down, paw, up.
“Then there was my name: H.A.L.O. named us four after CARS: Bugatti, Mercedes, Beetle, Edsel, stuff like that. Well, back then, one of my ears was flopped out to the side. Aunt Ashlee thought it was adorable and started callin’ me Crooked Ear. I’m kinda glad they finally decided on Buddy.”
“Fur sure,” I agreed. “So, tell me about your frens an famly. Whaddya do for fun?”
“I have tons of pooch an human frens, Mr. Bonzo. My BFFs are my brother Jose – we hang out an play an stuff; an Moe – we sit in comfy chairs an have Conver-SAY-shuns; an my other human fren, another Jose – he got me a duh-li-shus antler for Christmas an sometimes watches me when Mom’s away. When I’m with humans, I always observe ’em un-ob-TROO-sively, an later I practice their fay-shull expresshuns. Mom says my fay-shull expresshuns Crack Her Up.
“I LOVE runnin’ with ‘The Pack’ at the dog park; then there’s Frizbee, an anything involving a tennis ball; Cornhole’s Crispy Biscuits, too. It’s pretty huh-LARRY-us watchin’ the humans, plus, when they miss the hole, I go grab the bag. We go out on Moe’s boat a lot, too. It has one of those Bippity Tops an I stand at the front smellin’ the salty air, or sit next to Uncle Roger. (I have my own doggles an life vest). At the cove me an Rosie an Bo play in the sand.
At Camp Margarita Dog Frenly RV Park I get to zoom around with Aunt Krystal an Uncle Dave’s pooch, Lucie, and when we’re hangin’ out with Mom’s pals Rob an Vicki, I run around with Seeger, Dixie, Lady an Brandy. Brandy’s a re-TREE-ver! She can dive smack into the water like it was NOTHING, Mr. Bonzo! Not me, tho.
“See, back when I was a liddle pupper, I was playin’ in Moe’s yard by the pool, which I thought was like grass or something, so I jumped in an hadda get rescued by our neighbor, Miss Dawn.
“Did you know that that RV park ackshully has arty-fish-ul grass for us poocheroos to Do Our Duty on? An pooch Groomin’ Stations!”
“No Woof! That’s pretty classy!” I exclaimed. “Speakin’ of – you sure are well-groomed!”
“Thank you, Mr. Bonzo. Mom usually grooms me. She’s a professional human groomer, sorta. She even does my nails with a speshull gizmo so it isn’t ouchy or scary, an I helpfully hold my paws up.”
“How about foodstuffs?”
“I offen get wild sammun with different toppers like bacon, or egg yoke, or vegtubbles inna stoo. Seriously YUMM!”
“Have you traveled much so far?”
“Mostly nearby places. I DO like ridin’ in the car. I’m Mom’s co-pilot. I might get to fly when we visit Gramma Lori in Long Eye-land.”
“How about clothes?” I had to ask. Most pooches are firmly on one side or the other.
“That’d be a solid NO. Mom’s tried. She got me an Ugly Christmas Sweater (which is a weird human thing) an this red dress shirt, but I was like, ‘I don’t THINK so!’ ‘Cep for the snazzy red plaid bow tie that came with. That’s my Jam!”
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about gentle, enthusiastic Buddy, curled up happily up (and spilling over a liddle) on his Mom’s lap. An about sammon. An thinkin’ maybe I’ll ask for a red plaid bow tie for Christmas.
