I’m just ree-lizin’ there are a LOT more fellow dogs than I imagined who have JOBS. All kinds of jobs. This week I innerviewed Kobe Bean Neidigh, a teeny little Yorkie who works with his Mom atta place called VNA & Hospice Foundation. (He’s also a Very Good Greeter.)
Soon as me an my assistant walked in, here came this little pooch bouncin’ around us an woofin’ welcome. His wavy gold/brown fur went every which way, speshully on his head, an he had Large Pawsome Triangle Ears that struck out on either side of his liddle head like sailboat sails, which made him look sorta like Yoda or even a tiny liddle Chewbacca from that movie. He was wearin’ a red collar anna spiffy gold-an-purpull shirt with the number 24 on it. An he was followed by a Frenly Lady.
“Hi! I’m Kobe and this is my mommy Renee,” he announced, bouncin’ up for the Wag-an-Sniff. “My Step-Daddy Michael is at work elsewhere.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” I said.
Greetings complete, Kobe an his Mommy led us into a meeting room. After obtaining the go-ahead, my assistant produced a treat from The Satchel, an prudently broke it into Kobe-sized bites, which Kobe, after Sitting an Raising Paw, accepted delicately.
“That is a very Cool Kibbles shirt,” I said. “What’s the number for?” (I was a liddle embarrassed that I didn’t know. I’m not a sports kinda pooch, except for swimmin’.)
“Well, see, Mr. Bonzo, when Mommy first adopted me, up in Pencil-VANE-yuh, back in twenny-twenny, I was just a tiny only puppy. Only about one pound. No litter. Just me.”
“Woof!” I reclaimed, “I never heard of that buh-for.”
“I know! Weird, right?” he agreed. “Anyway, that awful human duh-zeese had just started.
MEANwhile, this very FAY-muss human, Kobe Bean Bryant, was a Really Good Basketball Player onna team called the L.A. Lakers. But then he suddenly hadda go to Heaven an everybody was Very Sad. It made Mommy sad too, so she decided to name ME after HIM. So I’m Kobe Bean Neidigh. An, see! My shirt has his number on it, an its in the Team Colors.”
“Oh, Kobe!” I exclaimed, “that IS a Very Sad an Amazin’ story. An did you say you’re an Only Pup? I never heard of that buh-fore. You’re you-NEEK! So, how’d you get to here?”
“Well, Mommy already had a Cavalier King Charles Span-yull, Lucy, anna cat, Forest Jean. Me an Forest Jean got along right away. We were Besties. But then stuff happened an, when I was 3, me an Mommy moved to Florida. We flew inna big bird. (Well, I thought it was a bird at first.) But there were seats an stuff. I found out it’s a Plane. I just snoozed on Mommy’s lap an it wasn’t so bad. Except I did miss Forest Jean. Now I’ve been back an forth to Pencil-Vane-yuh lotsa times an I’m cool with it.
“I wasn’t a very ram-BUNK-shus pupper. Didn’t really chew stuff. Much. I was Very Good about learnin’ where to Do My Duty an where to NOT. Which reminds me, I think I better … I’ve gotta … MOMMY!”
Kobe’s Mommy scooped him up an zoomed out the door. In a couple minutes, they returned and Kobe calmly took up where he’d left off.
“Where was I. Oh, yes: So now, Mommy an I work here. I have lotsa human co-worker frens: I’m their Boy Fren. Lemme see: there’s Barbara, Karina, Maurika, Courtney, an Mish. An Mr. Zack, he’s my bud. An lotsa frens from nearby offices, an maintenance people from Hospice House drop by to say hello. I make my rounds every day and you know, Mr. Bonzo, it makes me very happy that I can make people smile.
“I’m Mommy’s Support Dog (I’m with her all the time) an we also go visit our frens in a speshull place called Hospice House. I snuggle with them an they pat me an it makes ’em feel happy. I’m goin’ to take more speshul classes so I can do even more Support an Therapy Dog work. I take my job very seriously, Mr. Bonzo.”
“I can tell. You are the perfect pooch for your job, Kobe,” I said with admiration. “So, tell me what life’s like when you’re not workin’.”
“Well, lemme see, foodwise, I enjoy plain old kibbles, an I love chewin’ on my Kong an the occasional bully stick. But no froot or veggies. I tried a grape once. I was like, no.
“I havva human brother an sister too, they’re what’s called adults. Skyler, she’s 24. We havva speshul language. She calls me Him’s Boy. I don’t know why. Dawson’s 23. He holds me like a baby an I don’t even mind. They’re Pawsome. An I love hangin’ with my gramma MiMi. I hadda Bestie, Milo, a Yorkie like me, but he hadda go to Dog Heaven. Now, me an Step-Dad’s pooch, Coco, are figuring stuff out. Every Wednesday we wait for your payper to come. Then we page thru till we find your column. Now I get to be IN it. Total Cool Kibbles.”
“I’m so happy you like it,” I told him with sincerity, then inquired, “Do you like the beach?”
“Oh, woof, yes! I love the beach, once I got use to it. Now I’m Fearless. Mommy hasta keep me on my leash. She’s gonna get me a – what’s it called? – a LIFE jacket.”
“Good plan. I really like your Kobe shirt,” I said. “Do you have any other clothing?’
“Oh, woof, yes!” Kobe replied. “For every holiday: A heart shirt for Valentine’s Day; an Ugly Sweater for Christmas, an Easter outfit; a beach shirt with sharks on it. An of course, This one.
My Lakers Kobe shirt.”
“Where do you sleep?” I segued.
“With Mommy and Step-Dad of course! See, I like to burrow. It’s a Yorkie thing.”
The hour had whizzed by. Heading back to the office, I thought about the circumstances that bought Kobe an his Mommy an Step-Daddy together. An how much joy an unconditional love he’s bringing to humans who need it most, as only a dog can
Till next time,
Don’t Be Shy
We are always looking for pets with interesting stories. To set up an interview, email
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