My household is often filled with the sounds of dogs barking and birds whistling. But in the mornings, I am always greeted by my Boston Terrier Brinkley’s ‘woof.’ Actually, I have three BTs, all of whom I adore, but for those inexplicable reasons, I have a particular bond with Brinkley. Brinkley likes my company, and I like his. He is my ‘walk-dog’ because he trots along easily and dutifully, unlike Sasha who about jumps out of her fur with excitement, and precious little Timmy, our puppy-mill fellow, can only walk half a block without becoming exhausted and needing to be carried. Fortunately he only weighs 10 lbs. Brinkley is also my go-to travel dog because a. – he loves being in the car, and b. – he sits very contentedly on long rides, and c. – wherever we end up, he is easy! Not so with dear Sasha, my adorable female, who foams at the mouth and gets on the floor in the back seat and shakes uncontrollably. Timmy is also a ‘mover and shaker,’ minus the mouth-foam.
Back to Brinkley’s woof. Once the morning routine is over, I go down the hall into my home office to begin my day of grading papers, writing, and trying not to spend tons of time surfing and lurking on the Internet. In the meantime, the dogs remain in the kitchen to laze around with their bellies full of food. All except Brinkley. Brinkley parks his little butt as close to the gate as he can get and begins his woofing. It is very calm, relatively quiet, but VERY constant – just imagine, a continuous, perfectly timed in intervals, sort-of-subtle “woof.” I am admittedly not very good at resisting animals and so I end up scooping him up to join me in my office.
End of story, right? Wrong.
I of course have to have a second cup of coffee after I have spilled one quarter of my first on some poor student’s paper, and upon entering the kitchen, I am greeted by four very sad, seemingly tearful eyes that I simply cannot resist. And so, the gate opens, the stampede begins, and I am now operator of my very own doggy day care, all thanks to Brinkley and his woofs.