[I'm pleased to share with you a chapter from "Ebony: Warrior Princess," a book about my adorable miniature poodle daughter who crossed the rainbow bridge two years ago. I still mourn her death.]
Warrior princess? Where did that come from? I am a queen in my house. My mommy thinks she is the queen, but I have her number. Ha,ha. Whenever a door is opened, I am the first one out! Mommy tries to hold me back, and she tries to step out ahead of me, but I hold back, and when she steps back to see what I’m doing, I lunge out the door. I know Mommy has read those books on training DOGS that say the boss is supposed to go out the door first. Well, that’s true. But I am the boss and she needs to learn that. When she takes me walking, I lead the way. I go where I want to go and she has to follow. Sometimes when I crisscross the road, she gets tired of that, and tries to tell me that I have to walk on one side or the other. Why I wonder? Why can’t I run from one side to the other if that is what I want to do? She just has to keep up. Actually she should take off the damned leash and let me run. I’m not afraid of any dogs that might be around. If people are around, I want to go up to them to allow them the pleasure of petting me, and oohing and aahing over me. They love me! Mommy gets upset when I see people and I start “talking.” My talking is vocal rumblings of pleasure that there is somebody who would dearly love to pet me. For who wouldn’t love to pet me, the Warrior Princess?
When I lived with my biological mother, Snowie, I thought we were the only two beings like us. I had no idea that there were so many things called dogs out there. When my mommy got me, she decided to take me to obedience school. I was fine until then. But at obedience school there were a lot of big mutts in the class. There was one dog smaller than me. He was a little white doggie named Blizzard. When those big dogs ran over to snift Blizzard, he would roll over on his back and they would sniff him and nuzzle him and then go about their business. But then another one would go over to him and another. He spent all of his time rolling and groveling. Somebody said that’s what small dogs are to do. Well, not this Warrior Princess! The first night of class the owners took off the leashes. Doggies were all over the floor. I tried to stay close to Mommy. I could hear the instructor yelling at Mommy to walk away from me. Those dogs followed me as I followed her. Finally I decided that I was not going to run away from them. I then turned and showed them my teeth and snarled so they would know to leave me alone. Most of them did. There was no way I was going to roll over and let some beast sniff me. Oh no, they had another thought coming. Just let one try it!
Once a baby chocolate Labrador named Hershey was standing behind us. Hershey wanted to play with me. I do not play with dogs. He kept getting closer and closer to me. His owner kept pulling him away. I snarled at him a few times and Mommy scolded me. I heard Hershey’s owner ask him, “Do you want to get bitten?” He knew I was about to tackle Hershey to teach him a good lesson. Mommy apologized to Hershey and petted him. Hmph. I turned my head. I wanted no parts of that puppy. I’m grown; I don’t play with puppies.
There was a time when I would play with other poodles. But then obedience school cured me of all that. I was quite a sweetie before my mommy dragged me off to school. And I would have been fine there if those animals had left me alone. I simply wanted to be left alone. I was not going to be sniffed. And for goodness sakes, why do those animals usually want to sniff one’s butt? I don’t do that. What’s wrong with them? I guess that’s why they call them animals – cause they are! There was a little doggie I used to play with during our morning walks. Her owner would let her out when she saw us coming. Finally, I got tired of her, and one day we walked by and she wanted to play, and I didn’t. I snarled at her. She ran back to her house. I got scolded, but I didn’t care. I was in a bad mood that day I suppose. The next time I saw her I was ready to play. She ignored me. Of all the nerve! I didn’t understand that. I thought we were friends, but the little bitch wouldn’t play with me, and ran back to her house. Thereafter, my mommy wouldn’t even let me stop and pee at the bitch’s house. I hope you know by now that bitch is the word for female dogs. I love using it for obvious reasons!! That little bitch just got on my last nerve! Ha,ha!!
Sometimes Mommy says I’m a piece of work, whatever that means. I am not a piece of anything. I am a jet black, miniature poodle, age eleven, with red bows in my hair. I am too cute. Everybody tells me so.
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