Catchy title, isn’t it?

Now that Biscuit, my best pal and biggest nuisance, has reached full maturity, I have had to become more and more insistent on the fact of the matter. The fact of the matter is whatever I happen to pick up in the way of a STICK on our walk in the city or country, it is always going to be mine. Biscuit is lucky to have me to keep him humble. He may think he has control of long and short branches, entire limbs of trees, and other such oddments (remember I have a large vocabulary), but as soon as I see that he is chewing on something, I have to step in. I am very fast. You used to call me Lightning. 

My preeminence also includes other wood products such as the newspaper which I have been bringing in for years. Biscuit tries to sneak it away from my alligator jaws, but I always win. Sometimes we shred the paper in the tussle. You give me my treat begrudgingly.

Above, you see me exhibiting my natural powers. Biscuit and I were running in our Wisconsin woods. You happened to capture this struggle with your little phone. Don’t I look adorable? In case you’ve forgotten how handsome I am, check the dog-dude on the left. On the right is Biscuit, who thinks jumping high and smiling sweetly is going to win.

I, on the other paw, am much more subtle, my hind paws barely clearing the ground. Amazing strength, wouldn’t you say? Aren’t you proud of me? You don’t see the stick because it’s in my mouth.

As far as the newspaper goes, Biscuit still hasn’t caught on how to take it in his little Biscuit bities and bring it to you gently for a treat. Daddy usually gives him a treat anyway which really isn’t fair, but neither is the usual course of life…fair, that is. Daddy calls Biscuit’s attempt an “assist.” I call it doggone dumb.

Advice from Oliver: Don’t be afraid to exert your strength and wisdom that comes from age. Younger dogs can learn by watching. 

Today was extra delicious. You took us to a great big place where Biscuit and I ran around free without our harnesses or leashes. I don’t think you had as much fun as we did.

I’m cute, sure, I know that. But, I’m even cuter with a dead bunny hanging from my mouth. I think it adds to my overall shaggy allure. I was lucky enough to find a juicy rabbit hidden way down next to the water. Someone else made him stop moving before I found him. I didn’t have to do that part. Once I had him firmly in my teeth and fended off Biscuit and our friend Freya, I ran you all around the big park for quite a long time with guts and blood dripping on the snow.  It’s wonderful to be off leash! The bunny’s hippity-hoppity legs flopped up and down out of my mouth when I ran. We were a beautiful sight, fit for the slickest outdoor magazine. Dawg, this was my lucky day. And it made such a delicious crunch when I chewed him, bones and all.

Your voice had a different tone when you called me to come. I think you knew it was hopeless to get me to let go of the delicious food. You sounded, well, like you were seeing a different side of me. I let you get really close and then I’d run away again. I am faster than you are and we both know it.

 You tried so hard with the treats I usually get including a small scrap of dried bacon to bribe me to drop my treasure. You didn’t honestly expect me to drop the rabbit for measly dog treats, did you? I am an animal like you. One major difference between us is that I don’t need an oven to cook my food. I like it raw. I had so much fun.

That was the best rabbit I’ve ever eaten. Come to think of it, it’s the only rabbit I’ve ever eaten.

Now I have new knowledge of what those furry things taste like—you know, the ones that come at dusk and chew on your favorite plants—those things. Rabbits. Bunnies.

Do you still love me? You made me stay on the deck for awhile. Usually, when I scratch on the door and bark twice, you let me in. This time, I had to bark many times. I can’t really count. You leashed me up, brought me directly to the bathtub, scrubbed my face and my chin until there was no more bunny aftertaste. The flavor faded with the peanut butter flavored enzymatic toothpaste that you scrubbed onto my teeth. You also gave me a pill.

I hope that bunny didn’t make me sick. You got on your tappity tap tap machine. I’ll bet you were sending Freya’s mother a message. I think it might have had something to do with Freya, in case the bunny leg I left her didn’t agree with her. You gave her a couple of pills too, just in case.

I think I’ve lost my sleeping-on-your-bed privileges for awhile.

Advice from Oliver: Take full advantage of every opportunity to search and find new dining delicacies. Exciting experiences await you over every hill.

Hello, all my fans and loved ones. Notice the little pup trying to upstage me? His name is Doyle, a nine-month-old puppy without a permanent home. Biscuit and I tried to ignore him at first. Then I mounted him.  He is beautiful so I thought that was the right thing to do. You shouted at me, “No, no!” so I stopped momentarily. Then I let Doyle play tug with my favorite toy. That was very generous of me. Next I knew, he was a part of our pack…Biscuit, Iris, Daisy and I, and…ahead by a tail, Doyle. We all chased around the yard, and Doyle was pretty speedy. After that, we three Beardies ran in circles around the log pile, behind the trees, around the house, circling the fire pit, making much bark noise. “Come inside!” you yelled after we had circled the yard ten times. 

I like puppies for a few minutes, but they make me quite tired. After we came inside, we slurped water from a stainless bowl and fell asleep. 

Doyle’s whole foster family wants him to live with us, but you say it’s too much work to brush and comb three Beardies. I say we are worth every brush stroke. I felt a hole in my belly when he jumped up in Stephanie’s car and left us. He’s gone now and you say Biscuit and I are enough.

Does anyone have a home for him? Beardies are adorable. How can you resist us? LMK if you want him (that’s an acronym for Let Me Know.) Remember I have a very large vocabulary, and I occasionally whip out my hip 2022 lexicon as well.

I love our new deck. I play with my pal, Biscuit, and watch the beautiful world go by. Biscuit has finally agreed that when the morning newspaper comes, I am the only one who can bring it into the kitchen. He used to try harder, but I growled and shook my head until you convinced him it was my job, not his. At least I think that’s what you said. Biscuit pretends to put up a fight, but I am the obvious Number One Champ at newspaper delivery and he respects that.

I had my tenth birthday, but no one gave me any cake. I overheard you mention it and it is on my badge that I wear to work: 8/12/2012. If you want, wish me a happy birthday anytime.

I was a beautiful puppy and now I am a handsome adult. You tell me that when you comb and brush my long hair. You say, “Oh Oliver, you are SOOO handsome!” and you stroke me behind my ears. I lie down and feel happy all over my bones. I will tell you a lot if you look into my eyes.

Biscuit and I are good cons. We went on an eating strike several months ago and would not eat anything. Now you feed us fresh ground hamburger every morning and every night. You stir in fresh kibble and cool it all off with chicken broth. You feed me first and Biscuit waits in the bedroom for his bowl. It is dog-licious. I drool all over the floor while I wait for you to set it down. Who is smarter…Biscuit and I or you?

We still go to the MSP airport and to the University of Minnesota where I get petted and look cute, and we also started working at Methodist Hospital. I get a LOT of attention at the hospital, mostly from the nurses who work there. They love me very much. We starred in the newspaper as new volunteers and there was a photograph of both of us sitting in the hospital hallway. I am positively magnetic. I don’t have to wear a mask, but you do. That’s because I’m a star and stars don’t have to wear masks. They never get sick and they never give sickness.

Advice from Oliver: Sometimes it’s okay to take advantage of your position in life, especially as you get older.

Whew! Talk about stress. All these people were sitting around on chairs looking at me.

I did not like it. It was really hard to pay attention when you asked me to follow you around

and lie down when you told me to. I like to lie down when I feel like lying down which I

demonstrated right in the middle of the test. I needed to show them I could lie down. One of my

distractions was the distinct smell of bacon on the table behind the nice lady who kept telling us

what to do.

I wanted the bacon in a big way. That was a problem because you wouldn’t give me any. I am

used to getting treats when I do what you want, and sometimes even just because I’m so cute.

The third time you asked me to lie down, you smoothed the hair back away from my eyes and I

could see your eyes, and your eyes showed me love and patience and confidence that you knew

I was just kidding all along. I knew what to do. So I did it.

Now we can go back to the airport and back to the University of Minnesota, and well, just a lot

of places where I love to go sporting my special “North Star Therapy Dog” scarf and leash. You

wear your badge that says Pet Partners. I am your partner. I’ll always be your partner. I may be

nine years old, but we ain’t done yet.

Advice from Oliver: If you don’t pass the first time, you may need to go back to school to be a better dog. I know I did, and we’re better off for it. You gave me lots of treats and love afterwards, but you would’ve done that anyway.