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Let me just say, before I begin my story, that I love French Bulldogs, and in particular, my grand dogs, Bonzai and Jazz.  I haven’t seen Bonzai since my daughter’s wedding three years ago and I had never met Jazz.  I swear when we walked into Megan’s apartment Bonzai remembered me. He went ballistic and my daughter said she thought he remembered me too, but she also said my high pitched squeals of, “grandma’s here,” could have been stirring the pot just a little. Sometimes, the excitement in my voice eggs Fudge and Vern on a little, but Doodle wrestling and zoomies are nothing like French Bulldog wrestling and zoomies.  When Bonzai and Jazz start wrestling it sounds like someone is trying to waterboard the Aflac Duck. 

There is a lot of snorting, heavy breathing, and gasps for air, and at any moment one of them might stop and start panting as if he is not long for this world. I also have to say that this is usually followed by some inappropriate behavior with no concern that Grandma happened to be right there with a camera.

Fudge and Vern have to have two long walks per day or we pay later for our laziness.  Bonzai and Jazz love to go on walks, but they are not required and I swear we went the equivalent of two city blocks in a bit of heat and they came back to the house as if they just completed the Iditarod Sled Dog race in Alaska.

Let me also say these two dogs could mush with the best of them, if only for one or two blocks.  Both of them came back home and plopped down in front of the fan and remained there panting for quite some time. I guess if one short walk does all this to you, you may as well stay home and watch TV. The funny thing is my daughter was walking them by an ad agency the other day and some guy approached her and asked her if she would be interested in bringing them in for an open call audition to model for Target.  Funny, his only question was, “can they be dressed in costume?” and nothing about, “how long does it take their breathing to return to normal after slight exertion?” Of course she called home to tell me this news and prefaced it with, “my dogs are better than your dogs,” to which I replied, “in your dreams.”  I guess I need to start walking by ad agencies with my dogs until someone chases after me and says, “we are looking for one reactive brown dog and one extra large white dog who rolls to star in our latest ad campaign.” She will be the first one I call when all that happens.

Hey Target....we are available!

 

Megan can brag all she wants, but at least when our dogs come in from doing their big business, I never have to say to my husband, “can you hand me the wipes so I can clean their back ends?” 

Fudge and Vern are a little more self sufficient and more hygienic, which is something I thought I would never say about Vern. It really doesn’t even make sense to me, because they have such a smooth coat and very little hair in comparison to a Doodle. In fact, one of the things I missed most about my dogs when I was in Oregon happened to be their softness.  I am always petting my dogs and I love the softness of their hair, especially Fudge's.  Sometimes, when I would roll over at night and find Jazz curled up next to me, the feel of him would wake me up just enough to think, “why is there a seal in my bed?”

The other thing that just has to be said is those Frenchies are gassy little dogs. Seriously, anytime there is some sort of standoff involving hostages, the police should send these two dogs in and let them work their magic up, because they can clear a room in a matter of minutes.  Megan should start passing out warning labels to her visitors, “handle dogs at your own risk,” and a packet of sachets to tape to your nose when necessary, which seemed to be often.  I guess just like skunks they must have gotten used to their odors long ago because it was business as usual for them after some of their worst episodes.  In fact, I think they liked our reactions and I kept expecting them to turn to me and say, “pull my paw,” just for some added laughs.  It gave me a whole new appreciation for Fudge and Vern’s digestive systems. 

Meet Pepe' Le Pew (aka Bonzai)

and his side kick, Stinky Le P.U. (aka Jazz)

Because they are so short and compact, I spent a large part of my visit picking them up. I woke up several nights to find Jazz staring at me and imploring me with his puppy dog eyes to pick him up and put him on the bed with us. That part I liked, because he would burrow in next to me and sleep until morning. What I didn’t like was when I was on my computer and two future Target ad dogs wanted up with me and then wanted down again and then back up again and you get the picture.  I had a hard time getting a grip on these two dogs and I felt like I was bowling vertically with a bowling bowl with four legs.  I just knew if I accidentally dropped one of them, Megan would get all bent out of shape and my cries of, “it’s not my fault, they are shaped funny,” would fall on deaf ears and she would probably scream, “well, you are shaped funny, too!” After that, I suspect we would be going to a hotel. It was bad enough I knocked a fan over TWICE our first night there and it landed in the dog’s water and food bowls with a loud KA-BOOM and sent the contents of both dishes flying and on a later date shorted out some circuit after my computer cord landed in the aforementioned water dish. The fact that I almost electrocuted myself would be nothing compared to any remark I made about the rounder shape of her dogs compared to mine.

 

So, as you can see, the great mystery of whose dogs are better will never be agreed upon in our home.  We did agree that both sets are equally bad walking on leashes, but if truth be told, if you factor in body weight and strength per pound, I am happy to concede that her dogs are the winners.  The other thing we always agree on is that we love all of our dogs.  I am happy to be home with Fudge and Vern, but I miss those smooshed little faces of Bonzai and Jazz.  I am actually crazy about them and Megan is crazy about my two dogs, even if we do each have a competitive streak. Megan called the other day to tell me her dogs missed me and wanted to talk to me on the phone and as I sat there yelling, “grandma loves you, “ into the phone, I got to thinking maybe we both need to focus on just who is crazier.

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Comment by DJ & Chance on August 28, 2013 at 10:46pm
ha, I love the image of cuddling up with a seal: NOT.
Comment by Karen, Jasper and Jackdoodle on August 28, 2013 at 9:42pm

Hmmm...how do I word this without hurting anyone's feelings? 

Let me just say that my answer to the title question would have to be an unequivocal "Yes". And I would have said that even before you told me about the gas issue and the need for cleaning the back ends.

However, far be it for me to disparage someone else's grand-dogs, even when their own grandmother has just made me cry laughing by describing some of their less endearing traits in a public blog. 

Bonzai and Jazz sound like very sweet dogs. And all dogs are wonderful. Just not as wonderful as mine. :) 

 

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