Our visit included seeing my sister, Laci. She has already won ribbons at dog shows. I realized something while spending time with these three dogs: I was the one they chased. With my tail down, I took off to the truck with the three of them in hot pursuit of my butt. Randy was right on the situation—not that I was in danger, but he wanted to be sure it was fair to me. I like feeling protected. “Put Laci away; it’s not fair to Shellbee,” said Randy, so Ann locked her up. The rest of our visit went very calmly, as my struggle for “survival of the fittest” was taken care of by the humans. There was much discussion about some pictures of my bones, which made no sense to me—but I wasn’t too worried about trying to figure it out. I was very happy to lounge around in the warm grass, avoiding the stampede of tussling dogs.
Soon it was time to say goodbye to everyone at Woodloch Kennel, and we were back on the road. Now, I am generally a quiet, respectful passenger, unless I see cows or horses. It’s not that I am looking for them—Mommy and Pappy point them out! They bang on the window and say, “Look, Shellbee, cows!” I go bananas, off the spool, barking, howling, twisting around until I get tangled in the safety harness that secures me to my seat. A lot of good this fun does them. Mommy has to climb into the backseat to unclip my harness and untangle me. Sometimes, if I’m fast enough, I slip out of my harness and jump into the front seat! HA! “Oh, no, Shellbee, very dangerous; the air bags could kill you.” So we pull over, renegotiate the seating, and continue on our way. Mommy and Pappy have gone through these shenanigans countless times, never learning to just not say “cow” or “horse.” I guess they just can’t help themselves, or maybe their memories are so shot they forget the consequences of their actions. You know what? Grown-ups whine about how hard they work to raise their children. Let me bark this: it’s not always easy raising parents, either. Parents are a huge responsibility and require a lot of training. Woof woof to that!
Finally, we made it to Inn by the Sea, where I relaxed on the couch. It was a beautiful day when we arrived, so we took a short walk to the water gaps of the ocean. Now, the ocean is my style—not too rough but interesting enough to be fun. Somehow rivers had formed there as well. Mommy and Pappy and I hopped all around, splashing in the cool water, exploring the many different pools. I stepped out of the water every once in a while to chase away the birds. I wish I could fly—even chickens can fly high enough to get up onto their roosts at night. I eat chicken, so I guess it’s good they can get out of my reach. Truthfully, I wouldn’t know what to do with a live chicken! Pappy told me about some birds called penguins that can fly underwater. Little, black, furry, four-legged me can’t fly, but I do love the song Mommy sings to me: “I wish I could fly high up to the sky, and we can!” When she sings that song, we both close our eyes and jump up to the sky, pretending to fly high. Okay, so we look silly—like goony, landlocked birds—but why not try? My world is an endless game of imagination. Did you know sensitive dogs have the greatest ability for imagination? That’s me!
Our days at Cape Elizabeth were so magical we went back a second time with Auntie Linda, Cousin Jen, and Jakey Sniff, a Miniature Pinscher and my best dog friend. On our drive there, Jakey did the unthinkable: he moaned for seven hours! Now, I understand that emergency workers, rescue people, and other brave humans must train for the unthinkable. I wish I could have asked someone with such skills about what to do with Jakey, the moaner, for a seven-hour ride. He moaned the entire time, regardless of all attempts to improve his state of mind. Jakey was being driven insane by the loud sounds and shifting noises of the truck. One would think that, from a psychological perspective, he would habituate and adjust to the newness of the event. Not Jakey Sniff! He was relentless, unaware of how annoying the incessant moaning was to all the other passengers, me included. At first, I felt sad for him, but my sympathy quickly gave way to confusion and then exhaustion. So I did what any dog would do: I put myself into a deep sleep, leaving the humans to endure the endless moaning.
Despite the torturous drive, we all had a great time at Cape Elizabeth: we ate at outdoor cafés, went on hikes, and took long walks on the beach. Good times! Unfortunately, the trip home was the same as the trip there. Jakey moaned, Auntie Linda groaned, and I slept!
Yours truly, in love,
Shellbee
Inn by the Sea
Audubon Room
Doggy Menu
Satin Balls
100% raw food for dogs who like it “raw”
Ground tenderloin, wheat germ, oatmeal, vegetable oil, eggs, gelatin, molasses, Total cereal, & garlic powder mixed together and served in nickel-size balls
It can be fed alone or with kibble
Doggy Chicken
Grilled and served over rice with only the freshest vegetables
Bow Wow Sirloin Burger
Fire grilled, served on a fresh roll or over rice
Topped with brown gravy & fresh vegetables
Homemade Biscuits
Frozen Peanut Butter Yogurt Treats
P A R T 2
FAMILY
Letter 6
Friendship
Hi, it’s me—Shellbee. Mommy and Pappy have friends named Albert and Phillis. They are Pug people, with two Pugs of their own, Little Man and Puss Puss. Puss Puss recently went to heaven, and Little Man keeps looking for her; then he cuddles up real close to Albert and Phillis. Through telepathic communication, Albert, Phillis, and Little Man enjoy a lasting relationship with Puss Puss. It sounds so sad, all that love and togetherness coming to an end. I think even when we’re not physically together with those we love, we’re still with them in some way. The bond of love is never broken—it’s carried on in our hearts and minds. Mommy says there is a spiritual connection, which is something all animals understand.
Albert and Phillis are my friends. I think they even like me more than they like Mommy and Pappy, but who wouldn’t love “the cutest puppy in the world?” They stop by just to see me, and Phillis lies on the floor to play with me. Phillis also supervises Mommy and Pappy’s treatment of me (like a grandma would!). I love Phillis’ voice—when she says my name, it sounds like a song: Shellllbeeee. Albert has big, strong hands, a great laugh, and enveloping hugs. Both Phillis and Albert love all animals, especially dogs. They talk about the pure love, the sheer joy, we give to people. They are so happy I’m with the Campbells, because Mommy and Pappy and brother Jimmy need me to provide them with endless, boundless love and joy.
You know, long before I came along, Mommy, Pappy, and brother Jimmy had another black Lab, Coot (she was named after a diving duck). They often tell me stories about Coot, and anytime someone passes gas, they still blame it on “Cootie.” It goes like this: you’ll hear a tooooooot; then they say, “Cootie!” Coot grew up with my brother Jimmy—she used to be on guard duty every night in Jimmy’s bed. Coot was also a lifeguard, dragging the family (and some strangers) out of the ocean. Coot’s career as a lifeguard began when Mommy thought it would be cute to teach her to rescue swimmers. Mommy said Coot taught her an important lesson: if you give a Lab a job to do, she’ll do it tirelessly. The family had to find a way to escape Coot’s rescuing so they could boogie board in peace, and that’s how Coot leaned to ride waves, sponging alongside one of the clan. But one day, Coot regressed back to her lifeguarding ways and swam in circles around her family, attempting to herd them back to land. Her behavior drew a crowd of angry onlookers; the crowd thought Coot was suffering, and to a degree that was true, as Coot wanted her family safe on shore. Finally, my family, the selfish wave riders, gave her a turn on the board. Yes, she sat like a sphinx and caught a long, lazy ride to shore. The once-angry crowd laughed and clapped, asking for more. It’s funny how things look different once you understand. On the other hand, understanding the lunacy of my clan is a stretch for most people.
You’d think Mommy and Pappy would have learned their lesson, but they made another Coot-like mistake with me. They taught me to play a game called “No Peeking.” Here’s how it goes
: Mommy and Pappy hide ten treats throughout the house, and my job is to find them. Now don’t think the treats are ten big dog biscuits or anything easy to find—they could be pieces of green beans, carrots, or some microwave turkey dog. My favorite is Mommy’s sweet potato jerky. Of course, now that Mommy and Pappy have started this game, I make sure we play it every single morning. Over the past decade, I’ve played 3,650 games and eaten 36,500 treats. Yummies today and every day to come.
Back to my friends. Cindy is another friend of mine; in fact, she’s like a sister to me (and like a sister, she can be real bratty, too). She’s also a dog lover, having had many of her own that were much bigger than me, like Rottweilers. Cindy says I’m not a dog, I’m a person and so friggin’ smart (that “friggin’” word is an example of her bratty mouth). She is always pointing out things I do that are person-like. For example, I sit upright on Mommy’s lap to join all conversations, listening to what each person has to say. Let me tell you, people have a lot to say. They talk and talk and talk, but a few barks out of me, and I get shushed, while they keep on making noise with their traps. The antiquated belief that children should be seen but not heard gets applied to little old me sometimes. Anyway, back to Cindy. Cindy has a thing for my head, mouth, and ears. She’s a clean freak, so I let her clean all my head parts, and I make sure to sniff each gooey glob she removes. When Cindy sleeps over on the couch—in my spot—I wake her gently by pouncing on her. She says, “Shellbee!! What are you doing?” Then I sing to her until she gets up.
Yep, that’s right, I know how to sing. Brother Jimmy and his friend taught me. It all started when brother Jimmy’s voice partner, Jim, stayed with us. Brother Jimmy plays old-time wooden contraptions with strings (think lute, theorbo, and guitar), and Jim sings songs in different languages. When Jim was visiting once, he taught me to sing. I learned a whole range of voice scales, singing along with him as he laughed, a big, bellowing laugh. It’s okay people find my talents humorous. However, I am a force to be reckoned with. So you see, I’m not always barking—sometimes I’m singing songs of unrequited love. Isn’t life grand!
You already know about some of my other friends, like my breeder, Ann, and her husband, Randy. They brought me into the world at Woodloch Kennel, nirvana for dogs. I haven’t seen them in a long time, but we keep in touch by writing and calling. When I first came to my new home, I wrote them a letter:
Hi Ann and Randy. I squeezed my eyes closed the whole time I was at the vet’s. That man looked me over in places no man has ever been, so I decided out of sight is out of mind. Thank God there was no shot this first time. Mommy seems to like the guy; however, my jury is still out, especially because he told Mommy to cut out the noon meal already. He said I could get fat!!! The nerve of the guy!! Mommy whispered to me that we are following your rules, not his, so I was happy the girl’s team won. I am also very happy because I got a bunch of new toys. We have a great routine, too, and I’ve been so good that I’m going to work on Monday with Mommy. We set up two places at the office for me to rest or hang out. I know Mommy wants to just sit around and kiss me, but I said we girls have to work. Then Pappy is going to pick me up; I act very sweet with him because he is a man and needs a lot of loving. Overall, I am whipping them into shape around here. Mommy did say the vet thinks I’m great and got excellent care from you. He just doesn’t understand that there is nothing but the best at Ann and Randy’s house of hounds. I do miss you and think of you often. Love, Shellbee.
I’m reminded of Ann and Randy every time Mommy and Pappy kiss me gently right between my eyes, because that’s what Ann and Randy have been doing since the moment I was born. It’s another ritual that will add up to probably a zillion kisses, but who’s counting anyway? I love all my friends.
Yours truly, in love,
Shellbee
Letter 7
The Fourth of July
Hi, it’s me—Shellbee. My Fourth of July celebration began on Friday, July 1, at Auntie Linda’s pool party. Auntie Linda’s house is all about backyard entertainment—it’s like a private resort. She has a pool, plants, luscious green grass, lounge chairs, a hammock in the shade, barbecues, and a shed. The shed is the most important of all because it has a refrigerator exclusively for beer chilled to the max. Anything without alcohol would freeze in that fridge. The other day, Mommy and I got a call from Auntie Linda at about 10:30 AM. “Get over here,” she shouted. Auntie Linda doesn’t like to party alone, so we raced on over to claim our spot in her backyard.
The usual suspects showed up for the party, like all my work companions, but the most important guest was my best friend Jake Sniff. Jakey and I had a great time: he growled, I leapt back; then I snuck up again, he growled, I leapt back . . . we played that for a little while, but we spent most of our time sniffing each other. I love sniffing hineys, but Jake has me beat by a mile. He’ll sniff a hiney all day long! On occasion, Auntie Linda put Jake in the house to give his snout and my hiney a rest.
When this pack of people gets together, they laugh a lot (it’s the same at work). I’m not sure what’s so funny, but I like the vibration of happiness. This pack is also very good at eating—a lot. We had hot dogs, bacon-cheeseburgers, chicken burgers, sausage, macaroni salad, and fruit, and the humans drank hooch. I have tiny tastes, but mainly got H2O and ice cubes. In between our hours of feasting, we went swimming in the pool. Auntie Linda taught me how to walk down the pool stairs so I could chase the guests and toys around in the water. The pool water confused me because it was fresh like a river, not salty like the sea, but it still tasted weird. I found out later that the weird taste is chlorine. I also found out that chlorine gives me the runs, but who cares—it was refreshing, marvelous, and spectacular to cool off and swim in the aqua pond nestled in Auntie Linda’s groomed jungle.
By the way, did I mention I love watermelon? At the party, I ate it all the way up to the rind. I’d eat the rind, too, but no, “that’s not good for you, Shellbee,” they all shouted, so off it went to the garbage can. (Garbage cans are a “no-no” too.) I still have dreams about that garbage can. Oh, the feast that awaits a doggy like me!
Auntie Donna was at the party, giggling and so relaxed. It was good to see her so content and enjoying herself. Poor Auntie Donna is also in charge of money at work; money is the root of all evil, but you do need it to buy dog food. This party was the first time I saw Auntie Donna without green folders piled high in front of her. If you’re of the accountant breed, you’ll understand that Auntie Donna has a lot to growl about when the forms are in sextuplets. No forms today, just a party.
Jake Sniff’s mommy came, too. Her name is Cousin Jen, and she’s Auntie Linda’s daughter. Cousin Jen and my Mommy were out late the other night. My two girls caused a great deal of trouble in their travels that day. Apparently there were some big-wig, hot-shot lawyers they had to spar with in the big city. I heard that Cousin Jen growled and snarled at them, which news brought raucous laughter from the pack. When Cousin Jen and Mommy were done stealing the hound-dog lawyers’ bones, they went to feed their traps at a fancy restaurant, where they were treated like queens as they licked their chops and lapped up flavored drinks. Auntie Linda and Pappy were worried about them because their victory celebration went a bit over the top. As it goes with celebrating, the celebrators weren’t worried at all, while the people waiting for their safe return made a lot of phone calls. I wasn’t worried, though, because I know my Mommy and Cousin Jen can always find their way home. However, I did hear that from now on they have to wear leashes when they go out. Hurray, I’m not the only one! I should ask them which leashes they’d prefer. I have many. There is the purple one, red one, black one, blue-studded one, or my personal favorite—the designer-striped one.
Uncle Richie, Auntie Linda’s other half (whatever that means), joined us for chow time at the party. He’s a dog lover, too. He always gives me lots of attention (and watermelon), and he even lets me nibble on his beard, which makes us both howl with laughter. He is also
a great potato-chip sharer.
Joey is Auntie Linda’s son, and he came to the party after work. He loves me so, so much. There’s a real possibility of him kidnapping me. Joey is a big guy with a very gentle way, especially with me. I feel safe around him, especially because he helped put a stop to Jake’s snout up my hiney.
And, of course, my brother Jimmy was there, laughing a lot and doing crazy stunts in the pool. In fact, one of his crazy stunts involved me. He decided I should lounge around in the pool on a float, so up I went. After much splashing about, brother Jimmy and Mommy settled for me to be half on, half off, with my back legs dangling in the water. I felt like an astronaut suspended in space! Oh, the times we enjoy as a pack just keep on coming.
Yours truly, in love,
Shellbee
Letter 8
Halloween
Hi, it’s me—Shellbee. As you may recall (if not, I will remind you now), I came home to my kooky clan of human littermates on Halloween. This became a very important holiday for me. The fact is, I love to get dressed up in costumes or clothes of any kind. I am a fashionable female with excellent taste, and I have a large wardrobe of Halloween costumes.
My family and I live near a town that is so dog-friendly, they stop traffic on Halloween so us dogs can parade around in our costumes. The first time I dressed up as a Victoria’s Secret Angel—the white dress, wings, and halo were perfect against my shiny black coat. I wanted to make Mommy and Pappy so proud of how nicely I behaved around all these dogs—but, well, it went a little differently than planned. I barked my brains out, pulled on the leash, and ran the risk of becoming a fallen angel. After a while, I did okay once we started our walk. I hate waiting for anything!
Shellbee's Story Page 3