I am a two year old Cocker Spaniel. My mother says that my siblings and I are mixed. I think she means that we all looked so much alike as puppies that she would get us mixed up and couldn't tell which name belonged to which dog. Poor Mom, she's sometimes a little flakey!
I, of course, come from a long line of well-bred Cocker Spaniels. The term Cocker Spaniel has been Americanized. In the old country where our clan began, we originally received our name from unique physical characteristics. Some of our group were able to raise up one ear and not the other to listen to sounds in the distance. Hence, the term cock-eared. Also, in wintertime, my ancestors would wear tight fitting overcoats made from elastic-like material (much like the clothes that the human teenage girl that lives in my house tries to sneak out the door wearing). I think its called Spandex. Therefore, the original name of my breed before being Americanized to Cocker Spaniel was Cock-eared Spandex.
Enough history lesson and back to me. I live on a farm in eastern New Mexico along with three humans, one goose, two outside dogs, and a cat. The humans are named Mr. B, Ms. B, and Jill. The goose is named Goose. The two outside dogs are Luke and Belle and the cat is called Cat. Cat is only a kitten and has only lived here a short while. Being a little overbearing (as most cats are) she moved right in and tried to take over. She has some sort of Xena complex. She likes to climb up on high places like chairs and tables, wait until I walk by, and then shout, "HeeYi!" and jump off on my back. It's pretty irritating sometimes.
Luke and Belle live outside and are the guard dogs for the farm. Belle is quite a lady and I think she likes me. Luke is an old stove-up cow dog. He's pretty grouchy sometimes. When Mr. B takes walks around the farm we like to go with him. Belle and I run out in the lead and chase rabbits and butterflies. Luke follows along on Mr. B's heels and gives Belle and me disgusted looks. In the summertime, we dogs sometimes lay around in the shade of the pickup and Luke tells us stories about the old days when he and Mr. B used to herd cattle. He's quite a storyteller. But, then what can a well-bred Cocker Spaniel like me learn from a dog who's spent his life riding around in the back of a pickup listening to Willie Nelson songs?
Goose lives in the back yard and has no manners whatsoever. All I have to do is look through the back storm door and he will go off into the most obnoxious ranting, raving, and squawking fit that you have ever heard. He also thinks he is a philosopher. He likes to quote somebody named Aristole and Plato. Now, I'm not sure but I think Aristotle and Plato are two geese who live down the road at another house. I've seen them strutting around the yard when Mr. B and I pass on the way to the Post Office. Only a goose would have the arrogance to quote another goose!
Jill is a human teenager. She likes to watch TV, talk on the phone, and pick on me. I have this spot on my tummy somewhere about the third rib that when tickled makes my leg kick. Jill seems to find this hilarious. It doesn't take much to entertain her.
Ms. B goes off everyday to something called "work." I'm not quite sure what "work" is but I think Ms. B may have something to do with a top secret organization that is sworn to eliminate all dogs from the face of the earth. I know that she will not go to "work" with as much as one dog hair on her clothes. Just the other day as she was leaving for "work" she found a blond Cocker Spaniel hair on her black pants. She went into a frenzy and started yelling, "MUGSY" at the top of her lungs. Then she said (and this is the scarry part), "Mugsy, I ought to hang you up by the ears and shoot you!" Now, if Ms. B is carrying a gun I feel it is my duty to warn Mr. B. We'll have a talk about it next time it is just him and me driving to the Post Office.
Mr. B is a farmer, rancher, cowboy, musician, singer, songwriter, entertainer, and computer hacker. When the weather is bad and we can't work outside, he spends hours staring at the computer screen. Then, when Ms. B comes home, he tries to convince her that he has been working. He and I share a special bond but I do have the goods on him and if he ever gives me any trouble, I'm going to tell Ms. B the whole story. Mr. B is totally incapable of taking care of himself. I have to ride with him in the pickup seat and bark at all the rabbits, birds, and cows that we pass or I don't think he would see them at all. Also, sometimes he forgets when its mealtime. On occasion, I have had to stand by the kitchen cabinet and bark incessantly to remind him that its time to eat. Honestly, I think he would starve to death if I wasn't around to remind him that its mealtime.
Now to me, (ahem!) the most important part. My main job is keeping Mr. B and the rest of the household in line. I'm also a professional actor and singer. This past summer I had a part in the play "The Real Billy The Kid" that was staged at the Caprock Amphitheatre at San Jon, New Mexico. I was the "town dog." Now this may not sound like a very important part but I was crucial to the whole plot. In the play, I hung around the Blacksmith Shop with the local musicians and helped them play and sing during the performance. I even had a solo where I sang while Mr. B played the fiddle. It was awesome! I'm resting up this winter and getting ready for my next summer acting job. I'm sure the calls will start pouring in soon!
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