Bender (named after John Bender of The Breakfast Club, not the Futurama robot, or a drug and alcohol binge) is the world's Most Special-ist Black Dog. She's a lab mixed with...something. Maybe greyhound, maybe border collie. Definitely something tweaky. I adopted her three years ago as a puppy, and I believe I am the only one in the whole world who understands Bender's soul. She's extremely sensitive, and sweet, and a little badass, a definite posturer. She's jealous, an Attention Hound, an obsessive-compulsive hand-licker. She's a skidder, a faller, she doesn't chew her food. Her fine hair sticks to everything, is everywhere--floors, walls, ceiling, furniture, clothes, and your dinner. She's a high jumper and a fast runner. Drinks water so loud the TV volume has to be turned up. She's a pacer, a stresser, a panter. Around six o' clock in the morning she gets up, knowing full well that we won't for another hour at least, and shakes just to make noise, the Tambourine Routine. Then when we do wake up, she rolls around in the bed and grunts, growls, sneezes, and sings. Simultaneously.
Most people say she needs a helmet.
And after last night, they may be correct. Bender, in typical pursuit of her one true love, the tennis ball, rammed her little self full on into a tree. It was dark, and Bender is...Bender. At full tilt, she ran, she chased, then WHAM. Bender was knocked the hell out. She laid on the ground a few moments, then slowly struggled to her feet. Little stars and birdies flew over her head. She staggered and limped, and then still went to find her ball. The Champion of the World, Bender-Dog.
Bender rules.
3 comments:
Oh, poor baby. I bet he had a headache! Is there something going on here with the phases of the moon?
Here's to Bender for unyielding pursuit of a tennis ball! I think she'd look quite fetching in a hot pink helmet...
she rules indeed. zeppelin has never run headlong into a tree.
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