by Clondike Kintsfather
First, I must make a complete confession. Yes, it was I who instigated the verbal assault on the reportedly innocent postal delivery person at the Lancaster County Central Park during the obedience part of our Club's Summer Fun Match, and enticed my fellow otherwise well-behaved canines to join me. I take my duties as annunciator very seriously--too seriously, sometimes--so I apologize to any of you who were embarrassed by my overzealous reaction to the sight of the hated red, white and blue truck intruding on what I mistakenly thought was my territory. (I already claim most of Berks County. Why not annex Lancaster County, too?) Nothing personal against the postal service. Ask any FedEx, UPS or Airborne Express person and they'll tell you: I hate them all equally. (Well, not equally, really. I reserve special venom for the UPS truck--must be that icky drab color.)
The other high point of my year since I last reported in was that my owner, David, (He cloyingly wants me to call him "Daddy.") took me to his office for "Take Your Daughter to Work Day" back in the Spring. We were the only father-daughter team there that day. The other Dads were pretty guilty that they had overlooked their offspring, I can tell you. Daddy teaches at a big school called a college, which means the students are mostly elderly teenagers. They were appropriately awed by my magnificence. I spent quite a while holding court in the departmental foyer and greeting those who came and went. My favorite part was sitting in for the department secretary when she had to go to another building for a while. I had to have a little help answering the phone, I admit, but telling the students where to go and who to see for this or that was a breeze. Unfortunately, none of us remembered to take a camera, so this event was not recorded for posterity.
I will be seven years old this Fall, but my attitude towards life is still very puppyish. In other words, strive to be the center of attention all the time, and take all the grownups and humans for everything you can get whenever possible. I certainly don't feel like I have reached the plateau of middle age that my owners sometimes cluck-cluck and tsk-tsk over. The other of my owners ("Daddy" insists she be called "Mommy," but she prefers to call herself my "Associate" as though we were equals, like law partners. She can't remember being in labor and giving birth to me.) has gone to work part-time for a local vet , so I fully expect that I will have even better care than I have had so far. I enjoy having my "Associate" at home to attend to my every whim more hours of the day than when she drove off somewhere every morning and came home late and exhausted. My regular vet is also a member of the same church "Mom and Dad" attend, so we are all one big family.
Greetings to all my friends, canine and human, as I continue on my journey of life as a dog.
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