DOG & STYLE
Yes—your hunch is correct. The forward-thinking geniuses at Coastal Breeze have engaged the services of a dog to write an ongoing advice column. But if you stop and think about it, this clever literary maneuver really makes a lot of sense.
We dogs see and hear everything. For example, you don’t really have to watch your language around us because we’ll only hear words like “treat,” “walk,” “cookie” and “Tony, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills is on.”
Besides, have you ever looked at your pooch and thought to yourself, “I wonder what he would say if he could talk?” Though I can’t speak for all species, I can certainly shed some light on what may be lurking in the dark corners of our highly underestimated canine minds.
Be afraid—be very afraid.
Now, here’s my first important tip. As dogs, we were predisposed to being “naked.” However, we do not need to see you naked—ever. Yes, you think you can get away with it because what are we going to say—right? Well, what we’re really thinking is: ever heard of The Gap? BUY SOME CLOTHES and close the gap between my aching eyeballs and your bare bottom, please.
I live in Fiddler’s Creek with my two daddies—henceforth referred to as “Tall Daddy” and “Short Daddy.” I have chosen to find these monikers amusing, however, at 6’3” and 6’1” respectively, I’m not sure I really get the joke. They both seem to walk around with their heads in the clouds most of the time anyway. Perhaps my daddies are tad on the simple side, but they are mine and I love them unconditionally.
Though I may be just a dog, we all go through turmoil and transitions in life. During these times, the advice of a best friend or, in this case, “man’s best friend” can go a long way—even if only to keep you from metaphorically chasing your tail in circles.
Yes, I have done this before and, despite what you may think, it’s awesome exercise. Sort of like the dog equivalent of Pilates.
Just look at my recent personal drama—for some unknown reason, another dog was recently moved into my house.
Emphasis on “my.”
Yes, he was provided an official “name,” but it’s not really worth my time to learn it. I’m an Airedale—it has been, and should continue to be, all about me.
That being said, I have found it best if humans maintain a higher degree of selflessness.
As for this new creature, I simply refer to him as “The Chihua.” True, he may technically be a member of a breed known as “Chihuahua” but, in my view, the second “hua” is awkwardly repetitive. After all, I’m not called an “Airedaledale” and I hate to waste time.
Though I sometimes find “The Chihua” amusing, I certainly have more respect now for Garfields’s contempt for Odie.
So now it’s your turn to take control of the content and direction of my column by providing me with your thought-provoking questions on love, life, pet care, pedicures—and everything in between. One can only be referred to as a “know it all” if, in fact, one knows it all. Lucky for you, I do. Besides, if I make this column a huge success, let’s be honest—can a daytime talk show be far behind?
Tony Wakefield-Jones is a 10-year-old emotionally gifted Airedale. A member of a family of creative minds, his Short Daddy, writer Randall Kenneth Jones, has humorously chronicled his own personal and professional foibles on www.attackbunnies. com. Tony enjoys writing, eating, sleeping, pina coladas and being caught in the rain. Send your questions to Tony@mindzoo. com