I ridge-nully breef-ly met this week’s innerview-ee a few months ago at the Sea Oaks Paw-rade of Champions, where he was a Speshull Guest. Grover (no last name. Yet.) is a big, frenly, an humble mixture of Boxer, Staffordshire and probly some other things, PREE-vee-us-ly a resident of the Vero Beach Humane Society, an currently livin’ with a Very Nice an Fun Famly as a Foster Pooch.
So now, four months later, since we didn’t really have time to yap at Sea Oaks cuz there were LOTS an LOTS of cool kibbles poocheroos all over the place, I thought this’d be a good time to get to know him.
Grover anna lady anna man anna wiggly liddle pooch with wavy blonde hair met me an my assistant at the door. “Hey there, Grover,” I said. “Good to see you again.”
“Back atcha, Bonzo,” he replied, flashing this gi-NOR-muss, irresistubble smile.
Grover’s about 7, a preddy big poocheroo, 90-ish pouns, he thinks, with a short, light goldish coat, big square face, anna white blaze forehead to muzzle. His liddle ears stick up, then flop over at the tips.
After the Wag-an-Sniff, Grover led us to a comfy sofa in the living room. Out onna screen porch, a coupla liddle human boys were laffin’ an playin’. Outta the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a fee-line shoot through the room an disappear.
Grover began inner-DUCK-shuns: “This is MOST of my Foster Famly: Mom Desiree an Dad Shane. Out on the porch is my liddle brother Exodus an his fren. My sister Abigail is elsewhere. An THIS is my foster Sister, O-FISH-ull Care Giver an BFF Corianna. It’s cuzza HER that I have this Super Pawsome Foster Famly.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I began, when a fluff muffiny liddle pooch came bouncin’ into the room. She had wavy, peach-colored hair an lots of enthusiasm. Very perky an cute, I noticed.
“An THIS is my sister …” Grover began.
“HI! I’m Gracie! Who are YOU?” she innerupted happily. “You wanna go play ball?”
“Umm, well, I’d love to but …” I stammered.
“Take a breath, Gracie,” Grover said, grinning. “This is my fren Mr. Bonzo. He’s a journalist.
He’s gonna write about me for the PAYper.”
“Wow! Crispy Biscuits, Mr. Bozo!” Gracie exclaimed. “You wanna Snack or anything?”
“Thank you, Miss Gracie, but I’m on the job,” I told her, then turned to Grover. “Woof! I bet it’s lotsa fun around here!”
“You have no idea, an you haven’t even met Romeo yet!” he grinned. “Mom says it can get, what was her word, umm, kay-ODD-ick. I think it’s great!”
At that very moment their Mom, who’d briefly left the room, returned carrying a teensy super cute pupper, curly light brown hair, an wearin’ a bright blue DI-purr. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“This,” said Grover, “is my liddle foster bro Romeo. He was saved from being, well, sent to Dog Heaven cuz he has this con-DISH-un. Thank Lassie, THIS famly saved him from that Horrible Breeder. I tell him I think his pants are TRAY Stylish.”
I flipped open my notebook, then turned to Grover, “I can’t imagine what it’d be like walkin’ in your paws. I appreciate your agreein’ to share your tail.”
I opened my notebook. Grover began. “First I wanna say, for the record, even though I’m a rescue an still lookin’ for my Furever Family, I am WAY lucky. I mean, I probly have the Totally Cool Kibblest, Best Foster Famly EVER. Anyway, I just hafta keep remindin’ myself it’s just temporary, till I find a Furever Famly. I’ve come close a few times, but no luck.
“My Foster Sister Corianna (she’s what’s called a TEEN), she always loved animals an really, really, really wanted to help Dogs Less Fortunate. She volunteered at the Humane Society an took what’s called, umm, a Foster Class. She was Totally Motivated an, thank Lassie, she picked ME to foster, an convinced her famly an got it all arranged.
“See, I don’t remember my puppyhood, but I know I’d been a resident of the Humane Society since 2023. I WAS ackshully adopted by a lady who was Very Nice. But I was too big an strong for her to take care of, speshully on Leash Walks an stuff like that.
“I mean, I’m very puh-lite an o-BEE-DEE-ent, but I was just too much dog for her: like if I saw a squirrel or something, while onna leash walk an got too ex-ZOO-ber-ent I cudda toppled her right over. So I hadda go back.
“It seems like lotsa people wanna adopt a pooch who’s cute and cuddly-wuddly an not big an clunky like me. I also have wobbly back legs,” he added gloomily, then quickly bounced back. “But I’m NOT gonna BE Gloomy.
“I like playin’ with Dad. He calls me Buddy, which is Cool Kibbles. I also LOVE car rides. An Fetch. But I’m mostly pretty chill. When my pooch frens are ruff-housin’ around, I usually go take a nap. BUT I DON’T like the water: not the pool, not the river, not the oh-shun.
However, I do enjoy my Bath. Weird, right? I have what Mom calls a Low Energy Level, an I DO pruh-fur a NOT active lifestyle. An I get along great with people an animals.
“Oh, an, I am Very Scared of what humans call leef blowers, weed whackers and lawn mowers. If I could get to ’em, I’d try to EAT ’em, to rip ’em to shreds, to duh-MOLISH ’em to save my family. We’ve had some close calls, too.”
Grover saw me takin’ notes like mad an said, “Woof, sorry Bonz, I guess I sound like a REZ-uh-may.”
“Not to worry, Grover. Any famly’d be lucky to have you! I’m pretty sure the right person or famly is out there!
Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ about Grover an his dreams of a Furever Famly. An how many other pooches an fee-lines right this very minute, are doin’ the same thing. I’m givin’ my Gramma an Grampa extra snuggles.
