BarkingProse

People say I’m an old soul. I don’t exactly know what that means but I like the sound of it.

Journey turned three in May. I turned one year old in July. I feel like part goofy puppy and part grown up.

Me and Journey were trash talking last night when suddenly she got real serious.

“Listen up, Finn,” she said. “If we want to keep BarkingProse going you have to step up your game.”

“Why me, Journey?” I asked. “Why can’t you do the Barks?”

Journey was quiet for a few seconds and lowered her head. When she looked up I saw tears in her eyes.

“It’s not in me, Finn. I’m a hunter not a thinker like you,” Journey said. “I can bark about stuff I do but I don’t have words for how I feel.”

“But Ash raised you,” I insisted. “You were there when he died. He must have told you how to do the Barks.”

“Ash did raise me. He taught me how to play and have fun. He kept me safe and always looked out for me,” Journey said. “But he knew I’d rather chase down a rat than write a Bark.”

“You’re from Asher’s line,” Journey continued. “You have his great big heart inside your silly self. You think before you do something. I just do it.”

I knew that Journey had a point. She was happiest following her nose. That girl can smell a mole two feet in the ground. That’s why she loves her nose work classes so much.

Me, I like to play chase and bark at anything that moves but I’m always looking over my shoulder to see where mom is.

When I’m not playing with Journey I’m usually under a chair watching what the humans are doing.

So maybe it should be my job to tell the world what’s happening at Asherpark. I have to go back to the very first Bark so I know my history. Then maybe I can make sense of why there are so many dog souls that speak to me when I’m real quiet. Dogs I never knew, dogs who come to me when I’m silent.

I told Journey I would think real hard about what she said. If I can do the Barks maybe that would make Journey and our people happy. I’d like that.

Finn

Did you ever have a day that didn’t go so well? I did. Yesterday things started out fine. Me and Journey were having a good old time running and romping.

Mom let us in the big front yard, which is our favorite place. It has a low muddy spot along the fence where Journey likes to hide her old bones.

On this particular day Journey dug up a real stinky bone and wouldn’t let me near it. I got frustrated so I started digging next to her kicking mud and grass all over her.

The more I dug the more she teased me. The more she teased me the madder I got.

I dug so deep I could finally wallow in the squishy, stinky mud. It was wonderful.

After a while Mom came to check on us. I heard her whistle and went running to greet her. Journey quick hid her bone and then came running up behind me.

Usually when Mom calls and we come she acts all excited and praises us like we just did something really special. This time her voice sounded different.

She slipped us a treat for coming but then real quick snapped a leash on my collar. Journey got another treat and settled down in her crate.

Mom still had her treat bag so I figured we were going to do some training. Wrong! We were headed to the bath tub.

Mom asked me politely to jump in the tub. I looked at her like she was crazy, but she enticed me with a whole handful of treats so I reluctantly climbed in.

I was feeling pretty sorry for myself and even the warm water didn’t make things any better.

Mom worked on me for a long time. Apparently mud gets stuck tight to us long haired dogs. That doesn’t explain why the mud stuck to my short haired snout like glue.

Finally it was over. I got a good rub down, rolled around on the rug, then went into my crate for a bone.

Do you know what the reward is for taking a bath? You get to come in the house and hang out with your people. So I climbed up on my favorite bunk and took a snooze. Notice the clean snout……