If you look at the title of this blog, it's The Barkalot Boyz. Boyz. Plural. More than one. And if you look at the title of this post -- and the three parts that preceded it -- you'll see that it says When Harry Met Jake. That's right. When I met him. But what have you heard so far? All about when Jake Met Harry. So, as we are about to celebrate Independence Day and the dog-given freedoms expressed in our Constitution, I think it's time for me to speak up and shed some light on how it really is.
In his posts, the Jakester took great delight in telling you all how I messed in my crate and peed on the couch in those early days and how I still occasionally have a few other personal problems. But did he tell you how, from the get-go, I was loving to everybody, licked their faces, jumped on their laps, and let everyone know how happy I was to be with them? Nope!
Mr. Grump told you all how I liked to steal his favorite toys. But did he tell you all the times I did a perfect play bow, with an enticing growl, to lure him into a game and he just turned around and walked away? Nope!!
Mr. Einstein told you how smart he was to outwit me in our under-the-bed chases. But did he tell you how quickly I learned -- just by watching him ask Mom for breakfast or dinner -- how food got served in this establishment and how to get to my bowl as fast as I could?. Or that maybe he plays Scrabble with Mom, but I help Dad with the crossword puzzle? Again, Nope!!!
Did Mr. Goody Four Paws tell you how he always has to be the first for everything: the first to go down stairs in the morning (if his body blow doesn't get me, his warning bark will), the first to get dressed (collar and harness) and undressed, the first to go out, the first to get fed, the first to get in the car -- and the first to sit when Mom says Sit!! But I bet he didn't tell you how he responds when Mom or Dad says "Jake, Come!" He usually ponders, then turns around in a full circle and lies down under a chair. Or how he can't stand it if I get to the door first when the UPS man or somebody else knocks.
If I'm telling you all this, it's not because I don't love him to pieces. I really do. I kiss his face whenever I can, even though he ignores me. I sniff him whenever I get the chance. I wait by the front door until he gets back from his walk. I curl up next to him on the couch to watch a movie. I wait patiently for my turn to get a treat. And I love to run and run and run in perfect circles with him when we get to go out to the golf course or the dog park. And I love to share good smells when we do walk together. I just want a little positive recognition -- after all, I'll be three or thereabouts in a few months.
Whew, that feels better.
But there's one more thing. My name. When I got turned into the kill-shelter, they said my name was Harry. And that's the name Ms. Lyn, who rescued me, gave Mom and Dad when they adopted me. But then I found myself in a family of "J's" -- Mom and Dad and Jake, all "J's." That wasn't right. So Mom asked Jake's terrier friends what they thought. Tribby, who lives in Lubbock, came up with Just Harry and everyone thought that was cool. They particularly liked it when England's Prince Harry, when asked what he liked to be called, responded, "Harry, Just Harry!"
Yep, that's me!!!
