Hi. I’m Kramer. Or at least I am now. I used to be named TyRon or something like that. Didn’t make much difference. I didn’t answer to it anyway. I do like Kramer better because I come by it kind of naturally. You see, I like to run and I’m good at it. Stopping, not so much, especially on wood or tile floors. In my youthful exuberance, I have a tendency to overshoot my intended destination and slide to a stop, frequently where the available space ends. My dad, I’ll call him that, saw that and said it reminded him of Cosmo Kramer on the Seinfeld show, so Kramer it was.
It doesn’t seem possible that a week has already gone by since I adopted Bob. He wasn’t my first person. This is my fourth home in one year, through no fault of my own of course. The first place I don’t remember a lot about being just a kid, so I don’t really miss it. I don’t miss be called TyRon either. Do you know anyone with a kid named TyRon? No? Me neither. Anyway, it didn’t work out and that is how I ended up at the Humane Society shelter the first time. That’s when I first saw Bob. He wasn’t around a lot, but he was friendly and would stop by to see me. At the time, I was wearing a Victorian collar, frequently called “the cone of shame”, because I had decided to perform a post operative procedure and remove my own stitches, which I found was frowned upon. But shortly after, I was allowed to adopt a new family, and I got together with a nice lady with a big dog. They both seemed nice and I was allowed to take them home. However, it seems that, once there, the big dog became a little, how shall we say, aggressive. Not a good sign and certainly not a place I wanted to stick around. So, back to the shelter I went. I wasn’t there but a heartbeat before I took one of the employees home. He was a nice guy. Very caring and I really liked him. However, he shared an apartment with a roommate and three cats, none of which held me in very high regard. Much less respect then I deserved. That lasted about a week. One day while talking to the trainer about possibly having to surrender me, the trainer remembered that Bob had been interested, so he called and Bob came up for my approval.
He seemed like a kindred spirit, at least what little I knew about him. He was a little old, so I didn’t know how easy he would be to train. You know. Old habits die hard. But I decided to take a chance. I rescued him and here I am. It’s a little early to know for sure, but I have a good feeling about this one. I am one of three dogs now, but since they are a lot older, they left me in charge. I own a big house with lots of rooms and a lot of stuff to climb on. I’ve got my own toys and my own bowl. I get to ride in the car, and I sleep at the foot of our bed with my brother Scooter. I take Bob out during the day and we go for a walk every morning. In return for that, I have agreed not to mess in the house.
So that’s what it looks like right now. Bob turns out to be a little brighter then originally thought and has quickly learned my preferred routines. Meals are on time and snacks are available upon demand. I do have to watch him closely though. He has a tendency to enter or leave rooms without telling me. So I have established a network of observation posts, like his computer chair, the couch, the bed, and sometimes I have been known to curl up next to the computer.
I think this may be a good gig. By way of encouragement, I gave Bob a kiss the other day. I hope he doesn’t read anything into that. It was only meant as encouragement. I can’t say I have encountered any real negatives, although I did hear him mention the O word the other day. Obedience class. Not sure about that. I guess we could give it a try. Maybe Bob will surprise me and catch on quickly. I just hope he doesn’t embarrass me.
I will sign off now until the next time. Feel free to keep my picture. Hey, you know you want it. Just sayin. Huh. Bob says that a lot. He must be growing on me.