Salutations blog readers. It is Frodo.
As you know, we are mourning the passing of brother Viktor. Brother Viktor. That makes him sound like some kind of religious figure – and as you all know, nothing could have been further from the truth. Let’s face it- he is the dog who stole bananas from the counter – and ate them – peel and all. He also had an affection for dryer lint. I could NEVER understand THAT craving. He also like to eat pockets. Remember her highness’ new coat? That incident was not appreciated.
He is also the dog who would make repeated unsuccessful attempts to catch a rabbit. And would often go AWOL while doing so. I on the other hand, know that rodent chasing in the woods results in dirt and subsequent grooming. I’ll take a pass on that game.
But then Viktor would willingly participate in grooming – and would literally do anything for a treat. Except smile and pose for the camera. While there are dozens of smiling shots of the grey haired cyclone, those did not come without fistfuls of treats. Snow shots were particularly challenging as he preferred to bury his head in the snow.
Viktor would fetch until he was ready to collapse. Yours truly plays for just so long and then gets bored with the monotony. I find it a rather tedious game.
Let’s be perfectly honest. When one looks up the definition of “good dog” ( with regard to obedient behavior), his photo is not depicted.
However, we ALL mourn his loss. Greatly. Our household is very different. Her highness, as he dubbed our human, is feeling very sad. She said, “Viktor had a purpose in life and he fulfilled it. He never won any remarkable dog shows but he was a champion to so many. I am blessed that I was so lucky to have him in my life. Eight years is not enough. But then, no time is ever “enough.”
No. No time with us canines is EVER enough for you humans.
I understand that many of you reading were fans of my brother. And I am here to make an announcement. It is with great trepidation that Elroy and I have decided, in Viktor’s honor, to continue sharing our tales. This will not be easy, as my brother “the wild child” was different from both of us. And people liked him. They liked to read his stories. Because humans do things like slow down to see an accident. And Viktor’s views were often like a train wreck.
Obviously he was entertaining. But I am here to announce that I have a voice as well. A very loud voice. And one that I choose to use often. Particularly at meal time. And why would one bark incessantly at meal time? Because, frankly, I am giving her highness instructions to speed up her meal preparation performance. She’s too slow. Way too slow. Imagine if we sheepdogs were so slow when guarding or moving our sheep. The flock would be scattered in all directions. We are used to speed and precision. We expect the same from humans at mealtime.
Yes. I have a voice. And tales to tell. I am the “good dog.” Or I have proclaimed myself as such. I am also brilliant. Although when her highness witnesses my digging at ceramic tile in an effort to become comfortable, the label “smart” is NOT one that comes to mind.
No barrier can contain me. I did not obtain the name PONdini without escaping from multiple enclosures. Mind you, I did wear down my canine teeth pulling on chain link fence. Which is unusual as we are rarely in the fenced pen. Still, I would not be in any ads for canine dental products.
I confess to being “sensitive” when it comes to feet examinations. And grooming in general. But that’s because I am smart. I see grooming as a total waste of time – given that I will look ragged within minutes of grooming completion.
I am more intent than brother Viktor was – and I take my role as guardian much more seriously. I own our property. Our road. The county. And any place that I arrive first. I am proud of my ability to throw myself gnashing and roaring against the front door when the oil delivery man comes. Mind you, all the delivery man need do is pull out a grooming tool like a comb, and I’ll make a hasty retreat…but he doesn’t know that. I am a protector extraordinaire.
I will be sharing this space with Elroy – who Viktor dubbed the FG. Or Friendly Giant. Sometimes new readers did not know what FG stood for. There are no doubt “other” names that one can conjure up using those letters…
Elroy will be sharing his voice in the next blog posting. You will see that his voice is different again. And his views are different. Very very different. The crazy beatnik dog (as I call him) has a totally unique way of viewing things. I have diagnosed him as having attention challenges. Mind you, he’s the same dog that can stand on a rock and stare at his surroundings (without moving a muscle) for 10 minutes. Indeed. I call him a “Punk”-ard because his hair often resembles a punk rocker. Yes, the Punk-ard is different…
On behalf of our little family, we extend our sincere thanks for your outpouring of sympathy on the loss of the little grey dog who was larger than life. We loved sharing him with you. And now…although we have big paw prints to fill…his memory will live on…
Peace. And paws up.