There’s a cute puppy that lives next door to us. She moved in a couple of months ago and we don’t know her name so we just call her “ND” (New Dog).
Well, I kind of like her. She’s very happy and bouncy. Mom says she’s a chocolate lab mix, which sounds a little dangerous to me since I heard chocolate is bad for dogs. So I keep my distance but if I’m in my backyard at the same time she’s in her backyard, I’ll try to say hi to her.
But I admit, she’s not much of a conversationalist. “Hi,” I’ll say.
“Oh HAI! HI! whatcha doin? whatcha doin’? I’z jest here in my yards jest runnin’ aroun’. I luvs to run. RUN RUN RUN! YEEHAW! WOOPIE!”
As I said, ND is VERY happy and VERY energetic. Which means, of course, that my Brudder Ranger just hates her. He’s a terrier and thinks that anything that is not a terrier is, well, doggie doo (and not the good kind that you roll in).
So if he sees her in the yard, he’ll run up to the fence, yelling the whole time.
“Kid! Hey kid! Get away from my fence! You’re too close to my yard!”
“OH HAI! Whatcha doin’? Yer cute! I like you.”
“Cute? I’m not cute! I’m a TERRIER!”
“Noooooo….yer CUTE! I likes da spot on yer haid. Do you likes ta run? I likes ta run. And bounce. Watch! I kin bounce realz high!” <BOING!>
“STOP! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. Stop with the bouncing!”
“Okayz…OH! whatz abouts ballz? You like ballzz? I let you play wif my tennis ball if you wants. Itz all round n’ yellowy.”
“What? NO! I don’t play with balls. What do you think I am, a retriever? Hey! Hey! Come back here. I’m not finished giving you a piece of my mind, you out-of-control whippersnapper!”
Now, I don’t think of myself as a tattle tail but all this makes me kind of nervous cuz I don’t like conflict at all. So (and don’t tell Ranger I told you) I usually go inside to let mom and dad what’s going on. And they come tell him to leave ND alone.
Once we’re both back safely inside with Ranger settling on the couch looking really proud of himself, I’ll say, “Brudder Ranger, I think that ND’s nice. Why do you have to be so mean to her? ”
“Hmph,” he says, rolling his eyes, “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a terrier thing.”