Bobo Bites!

It’s no secret that I am a dog lover; have been all my life in spite of getting bitten when I was a toddler. I still have the scar at the base of my left thumb. Ironically, my son Tyler, has the same scar he got after jumping onto a fuzzy looking German Shepard. Rommel, the dog, was dozing contentedly at the base of the staircase while guarding the front door of my friend, Linda’s, house when Tyler got him confused with his giant stuffed teddy bear. He did a “bonsai” from the third step landing on his back; can’t say that I blame Rommel for reacting. The doctor that stitched him up called it a “Love Bite”!

Speaking of bites … a few days ago, my friends and I in Roca Verde went for a morning walk. Lynn and Lucas have three big dogs – two huskies,Lobo and Sonoma, and Cinnamon, a Chocolate Lab, all healthy and energetic, especially when starting out after a good night’s sleep. Ahhhh, the morning walk.

Lucas carries treats. Every dog in the neighborhood knows this. They come running when they see (or hear) the entourage. Sometimes all that energy gets inadvertently mis-placed…like the time our “visiting” dogs got into it with Cinnamon and the poor dear needed stitches.

When Lynn got an email titled “BOBO BITES”, I happened to be privy to it. With a title like that, we both thought it was a joke. In and of itself, it’s funny. BOBO BITES! We said simultaneously, “Who is Bobo?” As we looked at each other, we burst out laughing! Ohhhhhh, Lobo! That rascal. He didn’t mean to bite anybody. We didn’t even know about it until much later. In rough-housing with the neighbor dog, his tooth grazed the leg of the neighbor’s wife. Her name was unusual and in reading the email, I thought it was a dog. In fact, I thought it was referring to my “visiting dogs” who were named Peter, the Brazilian Mastiff, and Sosa, the American Stanford, which I can’t figure out if the translation is Pit-bull or Staffordshire Terrier. (That which we call a rose …) I call the Mastiff “Turner” and the puppy “Hootch”. I found out the big one responds to “Peter” as he was named by the absentee owner, so I call him “Peter Turner”. It sounds like THREE dogs: Peter, Turner, and Hootch!

In any case, Lynn apologized profusely once she found out about the neighbor’s concerns and assured them Lobo aka Bobo was current on all his shots. And the dog stories keep on coming!

We are in St Thomas! Maybe, if I’m very very good, I’ll get to go on “Bad Kitty” again!

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