It was an eventful and exhausting weekend at the ayatollah compound. Bruce, my large-pawed Lab cousin, stayed with me while his parents were out of town. Bruce and I have many qualities in common, chief among them our love of treats. But we also have our differences. For example, my affinity for water extends only to that which is in my bowl. Bruce, on the other paw, seeks out liquid at any and all opportunities. On a walk Saturday morning, he splashed in every puddle he saw and showed an uncanny ability to drink while moving at full speed. His tongue skimmed the surface of each pool of rainwater. Then, on a later walk, Bruce actually leaped headlong into the neighborhood creek. Needless to say, I moved away from the water's edge as quickly as possible. Like the nervous ducks, I wanted nothing to do with young Bruce's splashing.
Once Bruce dried off, we got to work on some pressing security matters. My canine Muslim faith had prevented me from properly interrogating one of the ringleaders of this year's chew-toy insurrection. Bruce, however, had no such qualms about "questioning" Squeaky Pig. Thank Allah for extraordinary rendition.
Greetings, my flock. I come to you from an undisclosed location in central Oklahoma, where I have convened an emergency summit to discuss the urgent security issues facing the ministry. I met last night with Rabbi Jake and my new cousin Bruce, who also made the trek from the Dallas area. The three of us began with a thorough security sweep. We marked off several hundred yards of curbside property, claiming it for the Armed Revolutionary Forces (ARF). With a secure cordon around our meeting place, we went to work under the abundant stars. The talks sometimes got testy. I won't lie, my flock, a few growls were exchanged. A security crisis within the ministry has a way of ratcheting up the tension. But ultimately, we knew we were working toward the same purpose.You may think that Bruce, being less than 4 months old, is too young to sit in on such high-level talks. But he is rather advanced for his age, and he is eager to learn. Plus, he is tall enough to knock the food off the humans' table.
On Saturday, I welcomed a new canine to the congregation. My uncle adopted Bruce, a Lab puppy, from a shelter in Carrollton and stopped by to introduce him to me. "Ayatollah," he said, "I want Bruce to learn from you how to be a 'good dog.' Can you take him under your wing and mentor him?"
"Yes, my human child," I replied. "I will work with your large-pawed pup. For a small fee."
After receiving a biscuit in payment, I took Bruce out in the back yard to get a baseline of his skills. He possessed excellent athleticism and keen ball-fetching ability. He was a fast runner, but not as fast as yours truly. Yes, my flock -- despite this graying beard, the ayatollah can still tuck tail and fly.
Bruce's drinking form -- splashing much of the water out of his bowl -- differed from mine. But it proved effective all the same. Once the humans began to feast on their lunch, Bruce and I made our way inside. The pup displayed food-seeking techniques beyond his years, using his height to full advantage and nearly making off with slices of pizza on multiple occasions. It was apparent that with practice and a slightly refined technique, he could become a true begging prodigy.
Finally, it was time for Bruce to go. His parents had a date with PetSmart and one of those cages the humans like to euphemistically call "crates." I took young Bruce aside. "You are off to a fine start, my canine protege," I barked. "When next we meet, I will introduce you to rawhide."
