STICK

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.