Danny and Andrew

I found Andrew about thirteen years ago down in Miami. Nowadays we live on a boat in Fort Lauderdale, but I’m originally from Miami. Andrew, as far as I know, has always lived in Fort Lauderdale.

I was six months old and I wanted to go out and see the world. I wasn’t getting any younger and the lure of the road was calling to me. So, one day when no one was looking, I just took off. At first, I had a grand time. I’d sniff my way up one street and then down the next. I met up with a few other dogs, chased a few cars, and thought to myself, This is the life. But after a day or so, I started to get hungry and, unlike the home I had left, the humans I ran into had no desire to feed me. I did get into a few garbage cans, but the pickings were kinda slim.

On my third day of freedom, I’m running down the street and a white pickup truck stops and this guy gets out and talks to me. I forget exactly what he said, but it was something along the line of buying me a hamburger. Naturally, I jumped into the truck and off we went. Right about now, you are all thinking that the human was Andrew. Well, you are all wrong. The guy’s name was Don.

He took me to a McDonalds and bought me two hamburgers. Then we went to his house and I stayed with him. I had tired of being on the road. It was nice to be fed every day, and to be loved wasn’t bad either. The only downside was that Don kept calling me George.

Now this is where Andrew comes into the picture. About three times a week, Andrew would drive down to Miami to do some business. Don was a friend of his, and they’d get together for lunch whenever they could. A week after I found Don, he took me to breakfast where we met up with Andrew. Andrew and I were introduced and the three of us had drive-thru McMuffins.

While we were eating, Don said, “I can’t take care of George anymore. I’m going to take him to the Humane Society this morning.” He was? That came as news to me! I thought he liked me. But as you will shortly see, there were bigger things happening here—cosmic things.

Andrew spoke up. “Look, I live almost across the street from the Fort Lauderdale Humane Society. I’ll take the dog in for you and save you a trip.” So I was put in Andrew’s car and away we went.

It’s about a twenty-minute ride from where we left Don to the Humane Society.

As we exited the highway, Andrew turned to me and said, “It looks like I’m stuck with you. I just can’t drop you off to be put in a cage.” I figured that’s what he would do, because I gave him a few licks during the ride up, and I tried to look both pitiful and cute at the same time. That ain’t easy, you try it sometime.

When we got to the boat, Andrew told me that he once had a dog named George, so I would need a new name. Hey, I don’t care what you call me; just don’t call me late for dinner! At first, he said he was going to name me Don, but then he changed it to Danny. My full name is Daniel J. Daniels.

Now here is where things get a little weird. A week later, Don was dead. I don’t know if he knew he was going to die, or if some cosmic force had him turn me over to Andrew because he was destined to die. Whatever it was, here I am living on a boat with my human. He’s not really a bad sort, although it was a chore to get him trained just right. But it’s been worth it. Every morning after I take him for a walk, he gives me a treat. What dog could ask for anything more?

Advertisements

My Name is Danny

Danny the Dog

 

Hello, my name is Danny. Some people, well, most people, call me a dog. But I am a person just like everyone else. I may be only two feet tall and have four legs (and some fur), but I’m a person nonetheless. Just ask my roommate Andrew.

Andrew and I live together on a boat. It’s cozy as long as it’s just the two of us. However, sometimes he brings home a female and then I have to sleep out on the deck. It just ain’t fair.

The other day I was taking Andrew for his walk, and two females came up to us. Of course, they spoke to me first. “What a cute little fella,” the blonde-haired female said. At that, I just had to wag my tail. Then the one with the red hair bent down and rubbed my head. Boy, do I love it when females rub me!

Anyway, what I’m getting at is that those two would have been very happy to come back to the boat with me. And maybe we could have had something to eat (I like turkey slices) and then one of them—or both—could have scratched my tummy (I like that too).

And you know what? Next time I might just bring them back to the boat, and then Andrew will have to sleep out on the deck while the two girls and I eat turkey slices and scratch each other’s tummies.

 

Danny’s Training

Picture 043

Today I’m writing to my fellow dogs. I want to tell of how I trained my human, his name is Andrew.

I started the training right away, right after I adopted him. We were in the back yard and I was running around sniffing all the wonderful scents and enjoying being a dog when Andrew called me over. He had a ball in his hand and he threw it to the other side of the yard. Then he said, “Fetch” and added, “Go get it boy!” So that’s what fetch means.

Well, I just looked at him and thought, If you wanted the ball so bad why did you throw it away to begin with? After Andrew fetched the ball, threw it a few more times, and fetched it a few more times, he got the idea that I’m not a ball chasing kind of dog. I know some of you like to chase balls and sticks, but not me.

Next, I had to train him when we took our walks. We all know that walks are not for exercise, doing your “business” or to enjoy the scenery. Walks are for sniffing where other dogs have gone before. But humans just don’t get it.

At first, Andrew would let me sniff for a few seconds and then tug on the insidious leash he makes me wear. But I planted my feet, all four of them, firmly on the ground. The only thing that moved was my collar when it slipped off. Then he bought me a chest harness. It’s green and looks good against my tan colored fur if I do say so myself. Anyway, that didn’t work either, I just dug in deeper. Now Andrew waits patiently while I get my sniffing done.

The last thing I want to tell you about is what Andrew calls my passive resistance. You all know how much fun it is to roll around on the grass. Well, I happen to like it more than most dogs. And when I’m done, I lay there with a smile on my face. Of course, Andrew is always in a rush to get home. But I’m not moving until I’m ready, so he drags me along the soft grass like a sack of potatoes (it feels good) until he sees I’m not getting up. Then I’m left alone to get up under my own volition. I got that idea from reading a book about some guy named Gandhi.

Okay, that’s it. Now get out there and train your humans. They will thank you for it and be much happier.