To err is human, to forgive is canine.
This is the Bark Ranger, reporting in for Dear Miss Mermaid. I am woofcamping at Hartwell Lake with my pet parent. On the paperwork I'm listed as canine companion. But I'm really her fur baby but for some strange reason, she calls me her favorite waste of time.
Hartwell Lake is a great big rain puddle. It's so big, I will never drink all of it in my lifetime. (And that's no dog poop!)
Did you know it rained cats and dogs here the other day?
I know because I stepped in oodles of poodles. (Well, I fur one, thought that was doggone funny!)
Woofcamping is where I volunteer to woof as a Bark Ranger and in exchange we get a place to park our wagging train and pitch a pup tent for awhile.
I paws-itively love it here. However, it doesn't pay any money. Do you know why dogs never have any money?
Because we don't have paw-kets! I guess that makes us paw-pers.
However, I do paws-sess many toys. These are used to entertain my pet parent. She doesn't much care for opera, but I just love to hear Paw-varotti. She likes that old time rock and roll like the Beatles, you know, the group with Paw McCartney in it. I also like Paw Simon and Three Dog Night.
Cars are named after all manner of animals such as Mustang, Bronco, Pinto, Marlin, Skylark, Spider, Stingray, Cougar, Barracuda, Beetle, and Hornet. But the dogs ended up with a bus named Greyhound. That's because dogs like to travel in a pack, so they need a big bus.
This woofcamping has given us a new leash on life, a chance to paws from our travels. We won't be fleaing here for a few months, but when we do, we will sing "Happy Tails To You" until we meet again.
Surely you know what a leash is? It attaches to my harness and enables me to lead the pet parent where ever I want to go.
Now that we are woofcamping, we have a fixed address with a nice mailbox out front. I faithfully water the mailbox post every day. Come visit us. You can look our address up online. Go to poodle maps, then type in K-9 and follow the pointer.
As a Bark Ranger, I enthusiastically greet the public kibble-itzing with them. I like to show them my tricks. (Sometimes I can trick them into playing with me too.) When they ask me ruff questions, I just wag my tail exuberantly. If they have a doggy, then I speak to them in fluent Yappaneese, de-tailing all the doggy bark rules.
If it's a girl doggy, I toss her a bone. If she's a real fox, I give her a wolf whistle.
One day my pet parent went off in somebody's car, out to dinner, without taking me. It really ticked me off. I howled about it too. You should have heard my tail of woe.
Later, I was scolded and told to stop mutt-ering.
One day a pack of Mexican Chihuahuas ran in here to hide. They were running from the Border Terriers but it sounded like Cocker Bull to me. I had a bone to pick with them, but they hightailed it to Newfoundland next.
Several times a day, I have to go on Bark Patrol around the park. After all, I am the Bark Ranger here. When the pet parent makes me walk right beside her, I feel like such a heel. When she gives me treats, I wag my tail and wolf them down.
One day a famous celebrity dog traveling with her publicist, came here to visit the park and lake. Her publicist was a mixed breed with Great Dane, Bloodhound and Labrador in her pedigree. That made her a Great Blabbador.
The celebrity dog had her name emblazoned on her collar and she wore a cell phone attached to it. I guess that's what they mean by a cell phone with collar I.D.
When her phone rang, she had a ring around the collar.
She answered with a "Howl-lo".We could hear it was her boyfriend, the Malamute. He's a famous comedian who goes by the stage name "Growlcho Marx." Anyhow, the Malamute called to tell her he had an affair with this Pointer bitch and she gave birth to a puppy. It was all over the newspapers. The celebrity said she didn't care, and hung up.
I guess it was a Mute-Point.
To get this woofcamping deal, I had to go to the vet and see the Docs-hound.She said I was quite fetching, so I sniffed her over too. Then the nurse came in with a big needle to run tests. Such a bloodhound! I demanded a different nurse, so they sent a Labrador in to test me. Next they sent a cat in that looked me over slowly, from head to tail.
When my pet parent saw the huge bill, she complained about it. They said she was being charged extra for the Lab tests and the Cat scan.
On the way home, we stopped at the Pet Store to get more toys for the pet parent. I met an Airedale with a cart overflowing with treats and toys. He said his wealthy rabbit friend died and left him a large in-hare-itance.
Then on the next aisle I met a Saint! He said his name was Bernard. He was mastiffly big and must have been really hungry, because he was drooling everywhere. It made this little puppy poodle so nervous, the poodle puppy piddled a puddle right then and there in the doggone aisle. "What do you say?" demanded his owner. The wittle puppy poodle said "Paw-don me!"
A Bulldog came waltzing in with his Shis Tzu wife and their little puppy who was a real braggart. I mutt-ered something about him being a real Bull Shistzur and that sure put my tail in a crack.
So back at my Bark Ranger job, I decided to do some gardening. I like to water bushes and trees that need it, (and sometimes a sign post that doesn't.) It's fun to sniff the bark on the trees, to see who else has been piddling around.
Did you hear about the Irish Setter who was hired at the airport to guard the Concorde? He said he always wanted to grow up to be a jet setter.
A German Shepherd came into the park one day, wearing jeans and a sweater. But I could tell right away he was a plain clothes police dog.
I had to kick an Eskimo and his black husky named Frost out of the park. The Eskimo accused me of discrimination. I said I was not discriminating against his dusky husky, but Frost bites.
He was so dogmatic, you couldn't tell him a thing anyhow.
The Flea Circus came to town, but before I got to see it, some mongrel stole the show.
Do you know the difference between an executive and a hot dog? Well, an executive wears a whole suit, the hot dog just pants.
One day I got into the garlic and ate a whole pound of the stuff. The vet said my bark was worse than my bite.
Timmy and Lassie danced on that TV show "Dancing with the Stars" but were kicked out after only one dance. They said Lassie had two left feet. So I sent them an invitation to come visit the big puddle.
Timmy and Lassie came out to see me at the park a few days later. They went for a hike and didn't come back. When I went searching for them, I came upon little Timmy who was crying. He said a big bear had just eaten Lassie.
I kicked a puppy dog that was drunk on wine out of the park because we don't want any whinos around here.
I mark the park territory, so the other dogs know the Bark Ranger is on patrol.
Someone suggested I go to the groomers for a trim, but it sounds like shear terrier to me. My pet parent said I didn't have to go. (Gotta lift my leg in salute to her. )
While on my rounds I met a man with a dog named Mace, who spent his evenings working in his backyard as either a mechanic or an inventor.
Matter of fact, he's the same inventor who came up with a recipe for Hot Dog buns flavored with dill pickles. But when he tried to market the recipe as "Dill Dough For Your Weenies", it totally flopped.
But his song is kind of famous. His inspiration was his dog named Mace. She used to chew up the backyard lawn all the time while the inventor was either inventing or working on old cars. He got tired of Mace chewing up the lawn, leaving his yard bare, so he made her stay in the house. The grass grew really tall. Meanwhile he invented a new type of wrench, so he put a drawing of his face on it, as his trademark.
Late one evening, he lost his newly invented wrench in the overgrown grass. He frantically searched, but could not find it in the dark. So he let Mace out for the night then went to bed. When he got up, the grass was all gone and there was his shiny wrench with his face drawn on it, laying in the dirt.
So he wrote a song:
A grazing Mace,
How sweet the hound,
That saved a wrench like me...
I was trying to sing it for this German dog named Shep. He was hard of hearing, so I'm not sure the German Shep heard me.
Speaking of herds...
Did you hear about that infamous dog couple that had a litter of puppies and got arrested for trying to sell forgeries? The authorities said the arrested couple was a Pekingese and a Lhasa Apso that forged Pekassos.
Also in the news, was the Newfoundland and Basset Hound that mated, and gave birth to a litter of pups that were proven to be the smartest dogs in the whole wide world. They are worth loads of money.
Now that's what you call New-Found-Asset-Hounds.
That explains why poor doggies chase their own tail, they're just trying to make ends meet.
Yesterday, while on Bark Patrol I met a Terrier and a Bulldog who mated and brought their new puppy to the park with them. The puppy was just awful, no manners at all, he was just Terri-Bull!
I meet all kinds while on Bark Patrol as a Bark Ranger.
One day there was a blind dog here. He kept barking up the wrong tree.
Another day, I ran into a crazy Australian dog. Talk about a dingo-ling!
Daisy Doggy was always sniffing the flowers. They say she was a bud hound.
What do you name a dog with no legs?
He won't come when you call him anyhow.
There's a new bar in the neighborhood called "The Doggone Bar". The menu has Hot Dogs, Fried Hush Puppies, Corn Dogs and Salty Dog Cocktails. The juke box plays "Puppy Love", "Who Let The Dogs Out", "How Much Is That Doggy In the Window" and "Bingo Was His Name".
Next week, at the Doggone Bar, that famous dog from Australia is going to perform. He can play drums to all the Beatle tunes. They call him Dingo Starr.
A bashful Terrier came to the park lake one day. He thought he saw the Lake Ness Monster. It terrier-fied him.
If I were a Terrier, I would want to mate with a Deerhound. Then we could have a cute little Derriere; a dog that's true to the end.
A gracious little girl doggy came to the park bragging she had mated with a Bulldog and Shis Tzu too. The bitch got real hot under the collar when I said she was full of Bullshistz. I wondered if the Maststiff boner too.
Oops, if I've done anything to offend you, then I beg your paw-don, I guess I better muzzle it, before I end up in the doghouse.
If you can think of anymore doggone puns, Schnauzer chance!
Aw, now don't give me that hangdog look.
Show me your mastiff wit, in that there comment box. This column is already going to the dogs.
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