Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Gromit, Genius Dog

“C’mon, Gromit,” She says. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”

But I, Gromit -- Genius Dog -- shall not be interrupted mid-sniff. And most certainly not whilst partaking in the wondrous waftings of a fresh pile of opossum poop.

However. I do detect abnormal urgency in She’s voice, so I cast a quick glance behind on the trail.

Ah.

Ah-ha.

I suspected as much.

A Shepherd. The German variety, I believe.

And She knows that I tend to be somewhat – shall we say – exuberant among these fair creatures due to fond memories of an ill-fated, beyond-the-fence love affair with a gorgeous, energetic Fraulein named Ufta which ended tragically when She and He abruptly decided to MOVE me from MY YARD where I’d been peeing quite HAPPILY since I was a mere pup. But I digress.

She knows my proclivities so She is rushing Sunday Walkies in an attempt to avoid said Shepherd.

I, Genius Dog, shall have none of this.

In order to be certain She understands my opinion on the serious matter of Shepherd avoidance, I look directly into her batty brown eyes.

And slowly. Quite deliberately.

Sit.

Gromit Dog! Move!” She yells, yanking my Leash.

When She uses my surname, I know She means business.

But of course this only elicits my patented Withering Stare of Defiance, followed by the Disinterested Yawn and (patent pending) Brief Wiener Inspection.

The He walking the Shepherd laughs, so I join in the merriment. Soon we are all laughing at She, pulling frantically on my Leash.

She gives in. Defeated yet again by Gromit, Genius Dog.

I contain my mirth and leap rapturously for the succulent Shepherd, who sadly passes with nary a glance for yours truly. Bitch.

Walkies re-commence.

“Asshole Dog,” She says, under her breath.

I don’t know about you, but I am of the opinion that only those of the lowest intellect resort to name-calling. Don’t you agree?

Slightly altering this evening’s already hectic schedule, I pencil in “give She a particularly sloppy set of kisses” immediately following my regular après-poop tongue-on-butt scrub.

Asshole. Dog. Indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: That insufferable hound two yards over
I am reading: Hello? Nothing. I'm a DOG
And I am: Gromit, Genius Dog

4 comments:

Posolxstvo said...

Dude. Get Gromit his own Blogger ID. Sounds like he has a lot of valuable insight into the "real" Hedy.

Susan said...

You found it girl!

Hedy got her groove back!!

You work it when you write about things you love - like Grommie!

and his salami

CRUSTYBEEF said...

now THIS was a GEnuis post!

Always,
Elizabeth

Hedy said...

Thank you, friends of Gromit!