Fetching

Clearly the professor has never met my dog, Tucker, or his best friend, Carlos, who recently spent a week with us. Both are pound dogs of questionable parentage and personal hygiene. Both are old men; Tucker is 11, Carlos 12. And both are way smarter than your average poodle. Listen to some of their recent conversations.

Tucker: Hey, get your nose out of my bowl!

Carlos: I’ll trade you mine for yours.

Tucker: OK, but my food is for “mature’’ dogs, and you’re not mature.

Carlos: Dude, that just means old.

Tucker: Hey, you’re older than I am. Why the hell are you still chasing your tail? You going senile or something?

Carlos: Nah. I just like it. It’s fun.

Tucker: Well, you better not pee on my mom’s cookbooks again. You’re too old for that, too.

Carlos: I think I got a bad prostate.

Tucker: Bummer. Hey, it’s time for our walk!

(Both dogs sniff their way around the duck pond.)

Tucker: Yo, a squirrel! I’ve been trying to catch one for 11 years now.

Carlos: Hey, I saw it first. Wait, what is that thing? That’s the weirdest looking squirrel I ever seen.

Tucker: That’s not a squirrel. I heard my mom call it a chihuahua. She says they’re rats that bark.

Carlos: It’s kind of cute, but what happened to its hair?

Tucker: I’m a one-woman dog myself. I met Dakota in puppy obedience class. But lately she’s put on a few pounds.

Carlos: Look who’s talking. You don’t walk; you waddle.

Tucker: How about you? You ever been in love?

Carlos: Yeah, with steak. The minister came over the other night, and everyone was eating in the living room. He put his plate down on the floor to lead prayer. I was on that sirloin before you could say “amen,’’ and it was sooooo good.

Tucker: Mother of God, Carlos.

Carlos: That’s exactly what my mom said. But it wasn’t as bad as when I got into the Thanksgiving turkey or the birthday cake or the loaf of bread hot out of the oven. . .

Tucker: Enough about food. What about girls?

Carlos: I got my eye on this cute chocolate Lab next door but she won’t give me the time of day.

Tucker: Dude, if you’d clean up your act. . .

Carlos: Look who’s talking, dog breath. Yours could knock a buzzard off a garbage truck.

Tucker: Hey, my mom brushes my teeth now. Dr. Perry told her she should.

Carlos. Oh man, I hate the vet.

Tucker: Yeah, especially when they say, “OK, buddy, this won’t hurt.’’ What a big fat lie.

Carlos: Whenever I see that thermometer headed for my tail, I bolt for the door. Hey, there’s your mailman! He totally rocks! He has the best treats ever!

(Wild, mad barking ensues.)

Tucker: Gimme that treat, Eddie! Gimme! C’mon! Ahhhh, thanks. I love you, dude. Next to my family, Eddie is my favorite human.

Carlos: Ewwww, what is that smell? You got gas again?

Tucker: The smeller’s the feller. It was you.

Carlos: Was not.

Tucker: Was so.

Carlos: You’re the one who ruined the dining room rug.

Tucker: You’re the one who got into the cornbread and made a mess.

Carlos: Man, that was some good cornbread.

Tucker: Carlos, you’re my best friend, but I really miss my brother. He went away to college recently. My mom has not been the same since. For one thing, she’s giving me more hugs and kisses. She keeps saying I’m going to be the first dog to live forever.

Carlos: I got another year with my brother, and my mom’s already crying. I think she’s gonna start carrying him around in a papoose or something.

Tucker: Hey, dude, have you been fixed?

Carlos: Say what?

Tucker: I don’t know what it is, but every time Benson comes over to play, he starts doing the shing-a-ling with my stuffed bear. My mom says it’s because he hasn’t been fixed.

Carlos: Gross.

Tucker: Yeah. She says it’s because he’s a purebred.

Carlos: Poor Benson.

Tucker: Yeah. Night, Carlos.

Carlos: Night, Tucker. Hey, did you just cut one?

Tucker: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.