A few days ago I wondered out loud if anyone in the house would care to write my column for me this week. Bo, the brown lab, 77 in dog years, who lay curled at my feet lifted a paw.
"Have at it," I told him, and slid my laptop in his direction. "No, thanks," he said with a slight shake of his head. "I am all thumbs when it comes to typing. How 'bout I just think some thoughts and you write 'em down for me?"
"That'll work, Bo," I answered, "Any help is appreciated. Ready when you are."
Bo cleared his throat, paused as if to concentrate and then started slowly.
"Hello readers, Bo Rowe, the dog here. I volunteered to help out this week for various reasons. First and foremost, I think she needed me and I am bighearted ... which matches my big appetite, which leads to my big body and ... well ... suffice to say, 'It's good to keep happy the person who fills the dog dish.' That actually counts for reasons number one and two. I am up to reason three already. This is much easier than she makes it out to be.
"From what I gathered by listening while looking asleep, the last week of school pretty well ate her lunch. Eating her lunch ... that is a job I would be interested in, especially if it included sandwiches. I really like bread. No, I love bread! In fact, it might be an addiction, but this is a message for another time and place, so, I will move this conversation along.
"Let's see ... reason number three, I suppose it wouldn't hurt me to work a little harder around here to earn my keep, especially when things are stressful. I don't know much about stress, but I suppose it feels a little like being chased by a momma cow through the field. I try to avoid stress, especially now that running is hard on my arthritic joints, but that one bossy old heifer seems to seek me out.
"I know I am rambling here, so let me get focused on the meat of my message. Meat ... hummm, I like meat, too, almost as much as bread ... but I digress.
"Reason number four ... or is this five? Whatever! I have always been better at chasing rabbits than counting. In any case, I thought readers might enjoy a short 'synopsis' of my life. Synopsis? Are you impressed that I know that word? She is. I could tell by the way she glanced my way when it traveled though my thoughts. Now, returning to my story ... where to start? Well, my life consists mainly of sleeping and eating and following and waiting for her to sit down so I can park myself nearby. I do recall that I used to be quite a ladies' man, back when I was younger and had all my body parts. There I go, off topic again. Recalculating.
"I was adopted by the Rowes five years ago. I have belonged to two great families, lucky dog that I am. I only have one bone to pick, and that is the little red-headed boy that comes by every now and then. He always wants to give those fall-all-over-me hugs. I don't like it, but that isn't nearly as traumatic as the near death experience I had last year. I was sick as ... well, sick as a dog. Thanks to the helpful folks at Gentry Vet Clinic and my love of bread used to trick me into taking my medicine, I survived and, except for shuffling around a little slower, I am good to go.
"I would like to share more stories, but thinking is hard work and I am drifting off. So, if you'll excuse me now, that sunny spot by the window has my name written all over it."
So, there you have it, Bo's contribution, with a little editing from me. His grammar isn't all that great and he has trouble staying on topic. But he's an intelligent dog, in spite of his lack of formal education, smart enough in fact to trick me into writing a column that he'll get credit for.
Annette Rowe is a freelance writer from rural Gentry and a speech-language pathologist at Siloam Springs High School. She may be reached by email at [email protected] expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 06/10/2014