I’m Petey. What’s your name?

Hi everyone,

I met the new member of the family out in Oregon. He’s pretty charming for such a young fellow. He can speak for himself.

I’m Petey. What’s your name? They call me a Bichone. Right. I checked online and I’m actually a cross between Great Dane and St. Bernard.

I was born in a sofa. One day I just popped out. “They” say I came from Florida, but they are often mistaken and hard to train.

Here they are — my slaves. I got one of each kind. He’s big and strong and thinks he’s in charge. She’s pretty and has brown eyes and she thinks she’s in charge. Really? They keep forgetting who owns them. They’re forever wandering off to do silly thing, like taking their eyes off of me. See what I mean? The ocean bores me. I like grass better. But not to poop in though. They keep wanting me to go outside to poop in the grass. Do you have any idea what grass feels like on your butt? It’s all itchy and scratchy. And CATS pee in it!! Nope, I think I’ll hold it until I get back inside to the nice warm floor. It is my house after all.

You have no idea how long it took to train her to look where I want to look. I like her though. She teaches children. I haven’t made my mind up about children yet. I mean, what can they do for me?

Here’s another trick that took a while and tons of practice. When I say, “Reach down and pet me,” it’s her job to stop wherever we are and reach down and pet me. How hard is that?

Dealing with old people is a whole different matter. I was going to send this one home until I discovered wax in his ears. Now that’s pretty good stuff. Note to self: check to see if children have wax in their ears.

I know you enjoyed meeting me. But I’m through with you for now. You may leave. I’ll bark if I need anything.