Copper, the Original Farting Dog

My Aunty Marcy (mom’s sister) is in town visiting and somehow they got on the topic of fart jokes, still funny and popular. That made me think of one of mom’s favorite chapters in my book,  Bad To The Bone: Memoir Of A Rebel Doggie Blogger. The first nationally published (Kensington Books) non-fiction book written through the dog’s eyes, not bad for a writer in a fur suit. The star of this story, Copper, is now 14-years-old. What we call ‘bonus time’. We enjoy every day that we have with her.

 Heavy Metal

 As I recall I was a few years older at the time my second sister, Copper, came into my life. She’s a Rhodesian Ridgeback, a breed famous for hunting lions in Africa. Sounds like a majestic and exciting background but even with that lineage nobody wanted her. She was found as a stray on Copper Mountain, or so the story goes, and was most likely dumped there because she didn’t have the ridgeback that the breed is coveted for. In my book, that makes her a Ridgeless Rhodesian Ridgeback, a misfit just like the rest of us. Welcome to the island.

It was a beautiful fall Saturday, temperatures in the high sixties, and the leaves turning to a shock of orange. Put another way, it was a perfect day for my parents to go out and do something fun, and stick my fuzzy rear end inside the house to sleep the day away.

Their planned destination was an apple fest in north Georgia. To magnify the good time, they asked some friends to come along, check out some crafts and buy some apples. I’m sure my father asked my mother, “How do you like them apples?” at least fifty times. She’d be the first to tell you, he can be redundant and idiotic at times.

After walking around what seemed to be days, an ice cream booth was spotted. Mmmm, ice cream. After the obligatory, “Oh we really shouldn’t”, the foursome caved in and made their purchase. I’d be willing to bet dollars to donuts that they all got banana splits, extra whip cream and toppings. Oh, and a diet soda to wash it down with.

Mary Painter, one of the anointed friends, suggested they eat their cold treats next to the area where the doggie adoption folks were set up.

 *Danger Alert* Anyone that thinks they aren’t going home with a dog after spending more than 5 minutes next to an adoption center is either a) a dog bite victim b) a cat or c) a serial killer. *End of Alert*

 It’s amazing how fate works…a craving here, a suggestion there and boom…..(READ MORE)

*This work is copyrighted and may not be reproduced or copied in any way without written consent from the author. (Kensington Books/2009)


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