I just had a great idea for some new, original material I can feature from time to time in this blog. The silly adventures of my ever-popular Jack Russell Terrier, Cal.
Cal is quite the hilarious dog. He makes me laugh multiple times every day. He somehow even manages to make his “grandma” all the way in Washington, D.C., laugh every day too! He loves eating. EVERYTHING. He will eat anything that comes in his path–except for a pepperoncini or Warhead (which he has managed to spit out immediately after tasting). He loves going places with his mommy in the car. He especially likes to go to Starbucks with his mommy, because in the drive-through line, he usually receives a treat, despite his body being a quarter in the car and three quarters through the drive-through window. He loves long walks around Lake Eola, even though the swans are mean to him and hiss when he tries to get close. He loves other dogs, but loves dogs that are bigger than him even more. And he loves, loves, loves cats. This dog is obsessed with cats.
I figured I’d do a feature in this blog whenever something funny happens to Cal, which is quite often. He is a popular dog around town and in the airport when he goes traveling with his mommy. People always comment on his constant energy and his good looks. I also hear a lot of, “Your dog looks like Wishbone!” from children and “That’s the Frasier dog!” from adults. In any case, here is today’s hilarious adventure of that silly Cal.
We woke up this morning and I decided to ask Cal, “Do you want to go to Starbucks?”
Whenever I ask something that begins with, “Do you want…” his ears perk up and he turns his head as if he understands exactly what I’m saying. He immediately started jumping (as he frequently does) and running toward the door. We walked to Starbucks, which is approximately a block and a half from our apartment. As soon as we approached Starbucks, Cal decided it was a good idea to squat and poop in the middle of the walkway. I chained him up to a bicycle rack and ran into Starbucks to get a few napkins to clean it up. Once I threw it all away outside, three men who were sitting outside said, “Don’t worry, the worst thing that’s going to happen today just happened!”
I laughed and said, “Let’s hope so!”
I went inside and ordered my drink and returned to a still-alive-Cal-pulling-and-jumping chained to the bike rack. The men then told me, “I don’t think he likes Starbucks; he just peed on the sign when you walked inside!”
I shook my head and unhooked him from the rack and said, “Let’s go, Cal.”
Of course he pulled toward the men who were commenting on him and they were petting him as he sniffed the ground for any fallen crumbs or spilled coffee. “Oh my gosh, how old is he?!” one of them said.
“I don’t know, I adopted him. Probably about six or eight,” I said. This is a common question I get from people. A lot of people think he’s a puppy because of his constant jumping and young looking face. My response? He is a very active dog.
“But he looks so young!” They commented back. “What’s his name?”
“Cal,” I said. Usually people look at me inquisitively and say some variation of, “Cow?” or “Pal?” or “Hal?” So I’ve started responding immediately, giving them no time to ask me the cow questions, “Like California!” Which is what I said today.
The three men sat there and said nothing. Awkward silence from all of them, followed by a burst of laughter. “That’s my name!” one of them shouted. Oh my.
“That’s so funny!” I said, trying to pull Cal away from getting tangled in the table and chairs.
“Can I take a picture of him?!” he asked, as he pulled out his phone.
“Of course!” I said, trying to get Cal to sit still for the picture.
And so, he showed me the picture he took of Cal, and his bandanna that hangs around his collar was showing with the letters, “CAL” sown in the middle.