Bad to the Bone:. Bo Hoefinger
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grasp.
Upon awakening, an angel stood over me. The very same blond angel that had visited me earlier in the day. Next to her was a very handsome young man. So handsome you might think he was gay, but let me assure the reader he is not. He looked at me and said, “He’s cute. Let’s get him.”
“I want you to look at this one over here, too,” the angel countered.
What? Another dog? She’s betraying me all over again. It was Christmas season, and I felt just like a Douglas fir being picked up, manhandled, and then tossed aside in favor of a bigger, better tree.
Fortunately the man had his wits about him. “No, I like this one, he’s so dopey looking. We don’t need to look at any of the others. He’s the one.” I didn’t much care for his attitude but his decision-making capability was flawless.
The attendant, known as Nurse Ratchet by the inmates, lingered nearby. She was eager to get rid of me after my failed attempt at unionizing the locals to get better victuals. “Would you like to take him out for a walk, just to make sure you like him?” she offered, knowing full well that once prospective parents take a dog for a “test” walk, they will adopt the pet 98 percent of the time.
Once outside, I made a beeline for my potential owner’s car. It was easy to pick out; my sense of smell is incredible. In a show of respect I immediately peed on the front driver’s side tire. The couple tried to fawn all over me, but I ignored them. Once you have them this far, you show them you don’t want them and they’ll want you more.
Remember, don’t hate the player; hate the game.
The ploy worked like a charm; while they informed Ratchet they wanted me, I pranced back toward my former home to pack my belongings.
“Not so fast my friend,” Ratchet cackled. “We need to make sure you get all your required shots before we can release you to these fine folks.”
What do you mean I can’t leave yet? What a shot in the nads, which by the way were already gone. My new parents were told to come pick me up later in the week.
As they went to put me back in my cage, I abandoned my “good boy” act and did my best to stop this course of action. I sat down and refused to move, forcing two, it might have been three, of the staff’s goons to drag me across the floor and into lockdown. As they dragged me away, I got one last look at my new owners, who stared at the commotion with shocked looks that said, “What have we gotten ourselves into?”
It’s a look they would share many times in our future together.
My Favorite Quotes
(As Written by the Author’s Dog)
—Wee Willy Wilde; Larry Wilde’s heavy-drinking Lab
—Slacker, Dr. Napoleon Hill’s overachieving coon hound
—Tone Deaf, Mozart’s collie, great-great-great-uncle of Tone Loc
—Stingy, Zig Ziglar’s tight-pawed Yorkie
—Hercules, Samuel Johnson’s diminutive Chihuahua
—Pinto, Henry Ford’s wise but explosive bull terrier
—George Bernard Paw, Mr. Shaw’s big-mitted best friend
—Smooches, Jesse Jackson’s pit bull
—A-Train, Will Rogers’s single-minded boxer
CHAPTER 2
Homecoming
It was a long two days as I awaited the return of the angel to take me home with her. I smelled her before I saw her. She was close, front lobby close, and before I knew it, the loudspeaker blared, “Cage eight for pick up.”
Cage 8, that was me! Sure, I was being treated no better than a Grand Slam breakfast at Denny’s, but hey, at least I wasn’t going to be served up to some drunken college kids.
I packed my belongings, said my final good-byes, and with a leash around my neck, sprinted for the door.
She was just as pretty as I remembered, and she smelled even better. She had an engaging smile with nice white teeth. They weren’t Bugs Bunny big or Rocky the Squirrel small, but just the right size. Looking at her, I guessed she was roughly four years old and couldn’t have weighed over a hundred and five soaking wet.
This was my new mother.
She took the leash and led me outside and to the beginning of a most memorable life.
On the ride home she never stopped smiling, constantly alternating her stare between the road and me. I knew if I played this right, the unconditional love coming my way could be used to my advantage. I sensed it was going to be easy. Very easy.
That said, I still had to be careful. People were a fickle breed. If I jumped back and forth in the car too much, or a burp was erroneously construed as a growl, or even if an inadvertent fart squeaked by the goalie so early in the game, the tide of goodwill could turn against me.
I sat upright in the passenger seat, looking forward, doing my best to “mirror” her behavior. When we stopped at one particular light, I noticed a car next to us filled with kids. They were pointing at me and trying to get my attention, but I ignored them like they were the paparazzi. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mother laughing at my actions.
“You really think you’re a person, don’t you?”
Hey, if it gets me out of a cage and into a warm bed, sure. Heck, I’d be willing to play a cat to get that. Okay, maybe not a cat, but you catch