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 “Hope it isn’t catching,” said Dud.
We knew without being told what a Labradoodle was, of course. It
meant that a good retriever got too close to one of those tippy-toe
prancing fluffs and now there are puppies that need good homes. We’d
been broken in to this world by cockapoos and peekapoos, so a
genuine Labradoodle wasn’t that much of a stretch. At least it gave
us something to talk about over coffee.
“You know,” said Doc, “if you were to cross Lassie with a Cardigan
Welsh corgi, you could get a colling-card.”
“You send that same corgi on a blind date with a shar-pei,” said
Dud, “and you could end up with a bunch of card-sharps.”
“This is getting bad ... but now that you mention it, what if a half
Yorki-half old English sheepdog got interested in a lonely papillon.
You’d find yourself with yor-old-pappi.”
The waitress was giving us looks like she needed our seats at the
counter to be empty. Especially since the dog-combo disease was
spreading.
“You take one of them Japanese Akitas,” said a guy from the
truckers’ table, “and cross him with a Boston terrier, you’d get A-ki-ta-boston.”
“But what would it unlock?”
“A Scottish terrier and a great Dane would produce some
Great-Scotts,” Dud said.
“At least that would sound fairly good in a classified ad,” Doc
added, nodding. [to top of second
column] |
“OK,” said our waitress, finally
succumbing to the downward spiral of waning intellect, “if you had a
part saluki, part terrier and crossed it with a part bull mastiff
and part Llasa apso, what would you get?”
“A litter with an identity crisis?
“No. You’d get a bunch of ap-saluki-terri-bulls.”
The groaning continued for minutes while we got refills.
“If one of them Australian dingos got crossed with those little
Mexican dogs,” Dud said.
We looked at him and waited.
“Well?”
We shrugged.
“You’d get a dinkahuahua, of course.”
I think that’s when Doc hit him with the napkin.
At least when it was over, no one had suggested a tryst between a
shih-tsu and a bulldog.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
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