One of the most Cool Dog Biscuits events on my busy social schedule is the Dogs for Life Howl-O-Ween Pawrade. I look forward to it cuz I get to yap with a buncha you poocheroos, and check out your pawsome costooms. Me, I always attend cleverly disguised as a Springer Spaniel.
This year, like always, you pooches brought your costoom A-game. Dogs for Life is inna shady, leash-free dog park with a special building where humans train rescue dogs for Very Important Jobs: helping humans, ’speshly sol-jures, with Serious Problems, like if they can’t hear too well or get around too well, or if they’re duh-pressed or sad and need a Faithful Companion. Stuff like that.
Anyway, there were a couple hundred humans, an 45 costoom pawrade entries. First off was a demonstration by a Sheriff’s K-9 team, a big, serious pooch officer an his human partner, which always impresses the Dog Biscuits out of me. Their Very Important Job is mostly to catch Bad Guys. If you’ve ever seen ’em work, you know what I mean when I say I’m glad I’m not a Bad Guy.
I even had a brief yap with K-9 Officer Falko, a German Shepherd/Malinois mix an, guess what? He says we can schedule an INNERview. I’m stoked!
“Yoohoo, Mr. Bonzo, check us out!” called a liddle Yorkie/terrier mix wearin’ a pink cowdog hat. “I’m Riley! a Cowdog! An this is Nicolas. He’s 11 in human. He’s Rocket Raccoon, a Guardian of the Galaxy, an I’m his Faithful ComPANyun. Whaddya think?”
“Pawsome!” I said.
Roxie Fermato, a Golden Retriever, also wore a cowdog costoom, an also looked Super Adorable.
A pretty, white Standard Poodle wearing red antlers was hanging out in the shade with a black Standard Poo. I introduced myself.
“I’m Angel Showberger,” she replied. “This is my pooch pop, Roger. We’re named for a coupla human TENus players, Anglique Kerber an Roger Federer. We don’t play tennis ourselves, though. We just chase TENus balls.”
“Cool Kibbles,” I replied, making a mental note to get her number.
“Guess what, Mr. Bonzo,” a teeny Chi-weenie piped up. (That’s what a Chihuahua-Dachshund’s called. Who knew?) “I’m Isabella Chapman. I’m a PIErat. See? My Mom, Sunny, made our costooms. Aren’t they Crispy Dog Biscuits?”
“The crispiest!” I said. Isabella was head to toe pie-rat, with red headscarf, pie-rat hat, gold hoop earring, cutlass at her side, a peg leg, and her “signature” sunglasses.
I was happy to see several rescue pooches an service dogs in the bunch. One of ’em, a brindle greyhound rescue named Lacy Reynolds, was all decked out in red, white an blue. Golden Retriever GeeGee was trained as service dog right there at Paws For Life. She was wearin’ a hot dog costoom, complete with bun, mustard an relish! It ackshully made me a liddle hungry.
Another cool kibbles Golden was JACC, who was dressed as a lifeguard. I asked about his inner-sting name.
“You say it like ‘Jack,’” he explained. “I’m named for a big sports center at a school in Indiana called No-der Dame. The center’s named for a human called Mr. Joyce. One of the sports there is swimming.’”
“Woof, JACC, that does sound important!”
The Dynamic Duo was there, also: Batman was Terry Spencer, an his faithful sidekick Robin was service-dog-in-training Bentley, a Yellow Lab. I think I wrote the names down right, but I accidently drooled on my notebook while watching GeeGee the hot dog.
Then there was Rasta Robbie Rossie, a rescue Border Collie from St. Kitts, dressed up like Bob Marley. “Hey, Rastadog, Live Up!” he called.
“Keepin’ that pooch culture,” I replied, with a Paws-Up.
Another Yellow Lab, Good Girl, managed to look totally graceful in a white tulle skirt. “I’m a princess,” she told me. “I hafta walk real straight an careful to keep my pretty skirt on.”
“Well you look super nice!” I told her sincerely.
Trained service pooch Fritz, a Jack Russell/Beagle combo, was also dressed like a PIErat, an had one of those way cool, three-corner hats. “I help my Mom, Judy, with lotsa stuff. I even know how to push a Special Button to dial 911, if there’s an eeMERgency.”
Babycakes, a bulldog mix, was wearin’ a Breast Cancer Awareness vest. “I’m a rescue from the Vero Beach Humane Society,” she told me. “I believe in paying it back by supporting an important cause.”
I was impressed. “Woof, Babycakes, that is so socially aware of you!!”
A liddle chihuahua trotted up. “Hallo, Mr. Bonz. I’m Oscar. Can I ask your opinion about something?”
“Sure thing, Oscar.” I noticed Oscar was dressed as an elephant. Big ears, trunk an all. It was adorable an hilarious.
“Well, since I look like an elephant,” he said seriously, “I’m afraid I might accidently scare somebody. I don’t want anybody to think I’m gonna squash ’em or anything.”
“That is very conscientious of you, Oscar, but, honestly, I wouldn’t worry,” I assured him. “I think your friendly, non-threatening doganality definitely shines through. Just resist the urge to trumpet and you’ll be fine.”
The costume that made me laugh most was Woody the dashchund, dressed up like a Tootsie Roll. He was the perfect shape, an he was Totally Workin’ It, havin’ a ball, summoning up his Inner Tootsie Roll.
A big Woofout goes to the humans who always make the Paw-rade fun: The Human In Charge, Miss Shelly, inna witch costoom, zoomed around in a liddle cart thingy, makin’ sure everything was pooch-perfect. Lotsa volunteers did Real Important Stuff, like keepin’ the water bowls filled; the Sheriff’s K-9 team and Color Guard made everything extra special; Hobo Jim played music; and Troop 513 Boy Scouts helped the humans park.
Till next time,
The Bonz
