How I Got My People...And My Job

Everyone has a different theory how I came to my hooman arrangement- I think the stories are funny, but they are all wrong.

Daddy says that I showed up because I escaped from a bloodhound farm. My cub-brother Randy claims he found me. Mama likes to say that Hershey, one of my family’s previous doggie borders, led me here after he died, because he knew they needed someone like me. Mama would be happy to know her story is the closest to being right. But Hershey didn’t come back as a ghost- he was my business partner for a long time. Hershey ran a night-time detective agency. He hired me a couple years ago. When he was getting ready to move on, he told me he wanted me to take over the business - not only the detective gig, but more importantly, the business of protecting his hoomans. “I’m telling you, brother- they’ve got a real squirrel problem. And they’re clueless- danger every day, but it’s like they don’t even see it. They’re good people, though -as far as hoomans go. They’ll feed you, they’ll let you sleep in the house. They’ll want to rub your belly and give you all the butt scratches you can handle.”

“Oh I can handle a lot. Are we talkin’ table food, or is it that kibble stuff?”

“Both…but if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like you’ve been eating much of anything, anyway- are you picky?”

“Yes, I have been scarce on food. And no, I am definitely not picky. Just wanted to know what to expect.”

“Trust me, partner- you’ll like it. It’s a good arrangement for you. Will you take it?”

“Are you sure you want this?”

“As sure as I’ve ever been about anything.”

“Well you can count me in.”

I never saw Hershey ever cry before that day. So I knew this had to be super important. And I decided I’d go for it and never turn back.

So after we hatched a plan, Hershey told me to watch for the middle cub, Randy. He claimed the cub went skateboarding every night together with another juvenile hooman. That night was the last I ever saw my friend. He was a good dog- one of the best- and I have known a bunch. Thinking back on it, I realize that Hershey knew his time was limited- I don't know if there's really a rainbow bridge or not, but I like to think the guy is in a happier place, because he deserves it. I see know that he wanted to soften the blow on his hoomans, is what it was. That, and he didn't want the business to end. When I didn’t see Hershey for several days, I knew it was time to move forward with our scheme. So that night I went out.

I waited in the darkness and listened and sniffed. I smelled the cologne long before I ever saw the cubs. Then I heard the racket- holy bork, those skateboards are loud! And I could hear the cubs’ laughter. I waited till they zipped down the street, then I charged out of the shadows and started to follow them. I was careful to leave just enough distance to not frighten them, but kept close enough to still be seen if they looked. Eventually the cubs stopped for a break, and I stopped, too, standing in a pool of light from the street lamp. Hershey’s advice popped into my head again: “Make sure you open your mouth and let your tongue hang out- the humans like that because they think you’re smiling.” At the time, I had laughed, because every dog knows we do that to cool down- not to smile. Anyway, I thought to myself, look like you're out of breath. I opened my mouth wide and let my tongue loll out of the side (I have a really long tongue, so I can pull this off especially well!). Apparently Hershey knows his stuff.

“Awwwwwww look at that big dog! He’s following us! C’mere, boy!”

I obliged the cubs, and when they reached out their hands, I sniffed them thoroughly. Apparently hoomans find that endearing, too. But it wasn’t a gesture of affection- I gather a ton of information when I sniff things. For example- the one cub had eaten spaghetti for dinner, and the other, chicken. Also both cubs had been around other dogs. Both those dogs were female. One a poodle, and the other a terrier- a Wheaten. Ah-ha! This Cub is Hershey’s pack brother. My buddy had told me about the Wheaten. So you’re the one I have to impress. It had been obvious that the cubs took enjoyment from the sniff, so I decided to kick the sniffer into overdrive. Sniiiiffff, sniiiiffffff, snifffffff! You get the idea. Again, success.

“Awwwwwww! Haha. Ok boy! Hey where’s your collar?”

I gave him my best doggy smirk. I thought you’d never ask!

“He doesn’t have a collar, John. Wonder where he belongs?”

“I have no idea…”

“We can’t just let him run the street- he’ll get hit by a car.”

“Wait, I’ve got a spare collar at home- we could put him on a leash and try to find his owner.”

And of course two cubs leading a bloodhound around door to door at night doesn’t sound like a great idea, but they meant well. Besides, I already knew nobody would claim me because I didn’t live in a hooman house…yet.

It was a long night ahead- I still had to win over the adults- which turned out to be the easy part, just as Hershey predicted. Several sniffs, several particularly goofy ‘smiles’, and they were mine. And I had to win over the Wheaten, Mandy- which proved to be the difficult part- again, just like Hershey said. “She’s going to hate you at first.” Bro was definitely right. I can still remember our first meeting: “Who the heck are you, and what are you trying to pull here, you big idiot?! This is MY house and these are MY hoomans! I will literally bite your throat!” I laughed to myself and thought “She’s gonna be a great secretary.”