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Ruff Life: Speak, boy

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Speak, boy, speak!

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My husband asked Chip if he was ready for supper. “Duh,” I answered in a deep voice. “Which of the 20 signals I gave did you not understand?” “That’s not Chip’s voice,” Kyle said. “That was Johnny’s!” Throughout our 22 years of marriage, my husband and I have routinely conversed in our dogs’ voices. That’s 12 dogs total, each with their own unique tone, inflection and vocabulary. Speaking in these cartoon voices sometimes allows us to distance ourselves from touchy situations. For example, Gummi—our Pomeranian—had a string of bad luck be2368 Research Parkway fore us and was frequently agitated. Colorado Springs, CO 80920 A Residence of Legend Senior Living® His voice (in our minds) verged on LegendSeniorLiving.comshouting and was a cross between Joe Pesci and Curly of The Three Stooges. “That guy gives me the creeps!” 2368 Research Parkway Colorado Springs, CO 80920 Gummi groused, after visits with our teenager’s boyfriend. Gummi said it, not us. A Residence of Legend Senior Living® LegendSeniorLiving.comYvette—Chip and Ernie’s moth er—was a velvet hammer. Petite and cute as a button but tougher than nails, Yvey used her Marilyn With many thanks to God and Monroe-like voice to let humans you, we hope to serve you for know she disapproved of them many years to come. picking up her newborn pups.~Jim and Paula Cappadona “Put my son back down carefully,” she’d say, in her deceptively sweet, breathy way, “or I will have your liver for a snack.” Recently, my sister and I talked about our imaginary discussions with our pets. She was headed out of town that morning and worried about her dog and cat being alone for a few hours. She confided that she’d had this “talk” with Arthur and Boots, and they wanted her to stay home with them.

“Do you think we’re normal?” she asked.

I reminded her of a trip we once made to Arizona to visit old friends. At happy hour by the pool, I’d asked them if their own dogs had voices. It turned out they did, and our friends even let me record them doing impressions of their furry family members.

Randy channeled Archer (a golden retriever mix). I asked how Archer would respond to a burglar in their home. Archer said (in a voice similar to Scooby Doo’s) that he’d invite the guy in and show him where the good stuff was.

“I’d even help him take a load to the car!” Archer offered enthusiastically.

Bill and his bully mix, Jagger, had been to the vet’s for Jagger’s yearly exam. Bill was bummed that the doctor insinuated his dog was overweight. I asked what Jagger would have said to the vet. In a distinct Boston accent amazingly like Bill’s, Jagger complained that the quack called him heavy.

“I’m big-boned,” explained Jagger indignantly. “Not fat!”

Last week Chip and Ernie turned 15 ½ years old. I was sitting on the floor with them, admiring their white faces and stroking their silky ears.

“Do you know how much I love you boys?” I asked.

Ernie tilted his head and wagged his tail.

He didn’t need to say a word. ■

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THE RUFF LIFE

BY MARTI BENSON

Send your questions to Marti in care of Life After 50, or email her directly at OutnumberedByDogs@gmail.com

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