My dog Shungby’s DNA came back shortly after she slobbered into an envelope, and I mailed it to ancestry.com. As I suspected, her mother was a German Shepherd and her father, a helicopter. That accounted for her tail twirling in circles around her asshole when she was happy. She was also part airplane. So, her ears stuck out to the side, which made her ineligible for showing in the Westminster Dog Show. But, she could fly.
Shungby and I used to have long conversations. Sometimes I’d tell her my problems, and she’d stare straight into my eyes and say, “Who’s a good girl?” Other times, I’d say things like, “Shungby-the-Mungby the-Big-Fat-Pungby.” She knew I was joking, and she would crack up. OMG! She’d roll around on her back and laugh hysterically. To the untrained observer, she might have just been scratching her back or having an epileptic fit. But that person wasn’t fluent in dog.
When she got old and deaf I would crouch down and yell into her ear. “SHUNGBY-THE-MUNGBY-THE-BIG-FAT-PUNGBY!” She would lift her pointy German Shepherd head and lick halitosis kisses all over my face.
Nowadays, I want to drop to my knees and shout, “WHO’S A GOOD GIRL?” whenever an old dog smiles at me. G&S
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