Occasionally, I haff to sternly remind myself that I’m a Totally Happy Batch-ler. This was one of those times. This week’s innerviewee, Maggie Firth, is a statue-ESK, purebred café latte-colored Standard Poo with legs up to here, a close-cropped haircut which shows off her stellar con-for-MAY-shun, cocoa-colored fluffy top- not, ears and tail-pom; the rest, little curls of cream and cocoa. Even though Miss Maggie’s a fancy purebred, she’s not snobnose.
So, when I learned her Furever Home was her fourth (an she’s not even one anna haff), I was like “Wha-at?”
She trotted up with her Mom to greet me an my assistant. Actually, it was a graceful prance, like those white, dancing horses.
“It is SUCH a PLEH-zure to make your uh-QUAIN-tunce, Mr. Bonzo!” she said, gazing at me with her big brown eyes. “I’ve heard so much about you. Please, DO come in. Warm your paws.
We can sit here by the fireplace.”
My paws, as a matter of fact, felt like they were glued to the floor. “I, ummm, errr…” I mumbled suavely, forcing my gaze away from her long, graceful snout and cocoa-colored nose from her.
I finally got my paws to move, shook the fluff out of my head, and retrieved my notebook, which had somehow fallen to the floor.
“It’s totally my pleasure. Lovely place you have.”
“Why thank you,” she said sweetly. “This is my Furever Mom, Kerry. Just make yourselves comf-tubble, an let me know when to begin.”
“Ready whenever you are, Miss Maggie,” I said in my Serious Professional Voice.
After daintily accepting a snack from the depths of my assistant’s satchel, she sat gracefully and began.
“Not long ago, Mom lost her beloved 16-year-old Maltese, Meeka. At the time, Mom’s daughter Sheana and her dog Bear were living here with Mom, which helped fill the Loneliness Void. But when they moved elsewhere, Mom began to think about acquiring another dog. She was pic-shuring a pooch that was middle size; not a puppy; didn’t shed; an a rescue cuz that’s what she’s always had. So, as Mom put it, she threw the idea out into the Universe. (I’m not certain, but I think that’s a huge, big, gi-GAN-tic space that can hold everything else in it, like pillows an water an thots, an it’s not even crowded. It’s a human thing, so … )”
Note to Self: Google Universe. Maggie continued.
“As a just-weaned puppy, I was purchased by a lady on the other side of the state who thought she wanted to raise poodles but, when I was about 9 months old, changed her mind. So she put my pickshur an bio on a Poo Rehoming Website.
“THEN, Mom’s Very Good Frens an Nay-bors, Marc an Sue (who already had two Standard Poos: Bo an Sissy), saw my irresistible pickshur an decided to buy me for Marc’s Mom, who’d always udd-MY-erred Bo an Sissy.
“It WUDDA been Totally Swell except for one teensy little thing: I am a puppy with Tons of Energy an I LOVE playing outside, speshully where there’s lotsa DIRT an, cuzza our pond an stuff, lotsa MUD, which I’d track all over when I came in from playin’. Which was A LOT TO KEEP UP WITH. So, long tail short, I ended up back with Marc, Sue, Bo an Sissy.
“We got along Great! However, THREE big inner-JED-ick, playful poodles was ONE TOO MANY POODLES. Next time Mom saw Marc, Sue, Bo an Sissy out walkin’, she realized there was an extra poo: ME!
“Here’s the Crispy Biscuits part: Altho I’d never seen her before, I was like, ‘THAT’S MY FUREVER MOM!’ I stuck my nose out so she could pat me. An she DID. We Totally Had A Moment. The very next morning, Marc said to Mom, ‘Ummm, I wonder whether you’d like to adopt Maggie?’ An Mom said, ‘YESSS! Muddy Paws an all!’ An just like that I hadda Furever Home.”
“What a Wonderful Tail, Miss Maggie!”
“YO LO SE! Mom says it’s a WinWinWin: She got a bew-dee-ful new com-pan-yun (ME); Marc, Sue an my Besties Bo an Sissy can visit any time; an I got my Furever Mom. Full disclosure, I love being a (slightly) Spoiled Only Dog.
“An about that Muddy Paws Thing: It still happens, of course, but Mom found this uh-MAY-zing Muddy Dog Feet Cleaner thingy that looks like a toilet bowl brush inna plastic can with water in it.
“Now, whenever I get Muddy Paws, I go right to Mom on the PADio; she holds the thingy an helps me stick one paw atta time in it an whoosh it around. It only tickles a liddle bit an WAAA-LAAA, no more Muddy Paws. Here, I’ll show you!”
She demonstrated. It worked! An it totally did look like a toilet bowl brush.
“Tell me about your pooch pals. An what you do for fun,” I suggested.“Paws Down, my fave thing’s chasin’ ducks. I never catch ’em, tho. An playin’ ball! An chewin’ my stuffy chipmunk an my pink rubber squeaky pig. I have tons of pooch pals at the Dog Park. An I love taking classes at Elite Training. Even though it’s school, it’s WAY FUN.
“Bo, Sissy an Bear are my Besties, but, over at Bo an Sissy’s house there’s also Pickles an Stella.
Before them, I didn’t know there were pets who weren’t dogs. Did you? Pickles is a Cockatoo; that’s a fancy bird with feathers instead of fur. Stella’s a big cat. First cat I ever knew. Have you ever met a cat? They’re miss-TEERY-us. I think she likes me but I’m not totally sure.
“At night, I snuggle in Mom’s nice big cozy bed. Mom has a liddle corner an I stretch out in the rest cuzza my long legs. I’m such a fortunate grrrl, Mr. Bonzo.”
The hour had raced by. Headin’ home, I was thinkin’ how Muddy Paws had led Maggie to her Furever Mom from her. I guess The Universe has a sense of Humor.
Till next time,