Tuesday, April 18, 2006
These are my dog days. My name is Marmaduke. At least it's not Scoobydoo. What's with Great Dane three syllable names? When was the last time you heard a dog speak more than one syllable?
Papa said John Wayne would not approve of mama's nickname for me--"Dukie." Nonetheless, I am now "Marmadukie."
The proper way to introduce oneself is to sniff one's butt. Don't worry, I will politely sniff your hand if we ever meet.
If a cat has nine lives--I'm part cat: There was the time my face was literally kicked in by a horse you will meet; the Gila Monster who bit me . . . I won't give it all away--just hang on through this introduction, okay? Besides, I have to figure out this pesky human-to-dog language translator. Barf! Oops, wrong button.
I was an orphan, found by the next-door neighbor, stuck in prickly pear cactus, in the middle of the desert. The neighbor & I spent hours aside the main road, with a sign "Found! Is he yours?" Nobody ever claimed the neighbor.
After nine nights of howling and an exhaustive search for my owner, the neighbor announced Animal Control would pick me up. Not good. Mama & papa decided to adopt me, and Animal Control stood down. Whew! I had just used up one of my lives.
"Doc," the vet, shook his head when he first saw me--covered with cactus thorns, boney, with an irregular heart beat. "He's been on the desert for likely a couple of weeks," he said. (I had just used up another life.)
"He's gonna be big when he grows up," Doc added. Mama & Papa had thought I was already grown up--heh, heh.
Besides being part cat, Doc speculated I was Great Dane, Rhodesian Ridgeback, and/or both. Whoever my mom & dad were, the hound part of me takes over at the sight of a rabbit--the hair on my back goes up and whoosh!
I now share the ranch with my photo-shy sister, Queenie. She's a Queensland Healer. Think of the royalty--Queenie & Dukie. Queenie is a cattle dog that treats me like a cow. Do not let her unphotogenic behavior fool you--she's all bark and bite. Queenie is the ranch's CEW--Chief Executive Watchdog.
Our Dogloos are a nice touch in our desert environment.
I feel the itch to scratch. It's also almost time for "The Dog Whisperer." That little demon chihuahua, NuNu, is hot. It would never work though.
It's time for me to continue my life now, as a ranch dog in the Sonoran Desert.