EVERYONE LOVES A pet. Well, nearly everyone. Pets come in all sizes, shapes and sounds. Some growl and snarl while others bark. Others become mascots. Many mew and purr. Still, many of us are not experts when it comes to pets. This book gives a lot of information on not only choosing a pet but also caring for it. This is so important not only for individuals but families. So, let’s begin with an amazing dog named Barkk who tells much of the story as we move on to investigate all kinds of pets including naturally dogs and cats, birds, ferrets, guppies, sea horses, exotic pets, riding horses, reptiles and amphibians, raccoons, barn yard animals and more.

Dogs have been known to be faithful, patiently waiting for its master, even at times long after the master has been unable to come home. In a family with many children and even other pets, a dog will somehow be loyal to one more than another. Yet, a dog can show far less partiality than many human beings. Dogs can be mongrels, crossbreeds or bred with phenomenal pedigrees traceable way back into its ancestry. Dogs can be bred to be hunters and taught innumerable skills. Some actually have vocabularies of dozens of words, possibly even more words or commands to which they respond. Or ignore.

MY NAME IS Barkk. Now, this isn’t as strange as it sounds. It happens all the time. We call someone Honey, not because she is sweet and sticky but because she is endeared and loved. But I am sure glad they didn’t name me Honey. Might be all right for a honey-colored puppy but not me. I know a little girl whose nickname is Blossom simply because ever since she was a little girl she loved to play on the lawn, pick dandelions and four-leaf clovers. I also know a dog who was named Petite because she was so tiny.

Barkk is not my nickname. It is my formal name, etched on my dogtags. It’s interesting, isn’t it, that military personnel wear dog-tags, not people-tags. So why shouldn’t a dog wear a dog-tag? I’ll admit, though, it does sound a bit weird to be called Barkk but I’m used to it. Cats, even when grown, are often called Kitty but not too often Mewi.

I am not exactly sure how my name was chosen or even if there were other considerations. I suppose I could have been Buddy, Rover, Fido or even Sebastian for all I know. Some names are chosen because they carry on a tradition. Like Barkk II someday perhaps. There are famous dogs like Lassie although I personally don’t know many Lassies so maybe Lassie as a name is more revered than used. Then there are other famous names like Rin Tin Tin, Old Yeller, Cijo, Beethoven, Bandit and Barfy among countless others.

For one thing, I know I don’t have a pedigree of any kind. They tell me at an early age I was abandoned. Some kids found me and one of them tried to bring me home. His mother wouldn’t have anything to do with a scrawny, dirty mongrel which broke her little son’s heart when she wouldn’t take me in. The father had more pity (I think he liked dogs more than she did) but he was overruled and so after I was appropriately groomed, off to the doggie store I went.

That turned out to be a good thing because I became one of those cute little doggies in the window. I could hear many oos and aahs mostly from children on the other side of the glass. One day, a brave young man, all of seven I think, dragged his mother into the shop and pointed at me, saying, “But Mommy, that’s the one I want.” I overheard her tell her little one that I was nothing but a mongrel even though she thought I was cute.

Cute. That did it. I preferred being considered handsome, not cute. The next day he returned with his mother and father and two sisters. After looking at all kinds of dogs and kittens, the little boy won and I had a new home. He didn’t know a thing about dogs and I didn’t know a thing about little boys. However, we became the best of pals, and in a relatively short time, his mom overcame her misgivings and probably some fears about that doggie in the window.

Moving into a home like this was not only a new experience for me but for everyone. I was their fi rst dog, and because I was rather small for my age (I was older than they thought), I was treated as a puppy. That was all right with me because they didn’t expect too much. I was pampered, given all sorts of treats for no reason at all, and frankly, I was getting spoiled. And then careless. I hadn’t been really house-broken before I was abandoned but here I had some lapses. Nothing serious but quite annoying to my inexperienced hosts. They soon got wise to me and hit me where it hurts: mealtime. They cut back on my rations and were far less generous with treats.

That hurt my feelings and so I began to sulk. When Timmy, the seven-year old, wanted to play, I was less than enthusiastic. For some reason, I began to bark. I barked at everything that moved: when a car drove by, when the doorbell or telephone rang, when someone slammed a door. I was smart enough to know I wasn’t their watchdog but I barked just to hear myself bark. Soon I began to sense I wasn’t as welcome as I once was. I continued my bad behavior and barked even more. Timmy’s mom remarked sarcastically one day that I should be called Mr. Barker. I understood her frustration but for some reason I didn’t care. This is when everything changed.

Timmy’s father told young Timmy that I had to quit barking or out I go. At first I didn’t believe it. Timmy began to reward me when I did something right. He taught the usual: roll over, sit, heel, bark. He gave me a treat when I barked at his command but not when I barked on my own. Usually we dogs are rewarded for not barking but Timmy outsmarted me. I began to realize that ultimately I wouldn’t be able to outsmart Timmy and his family. He was the boss which was good. On occasion I was called Mr. Barker but that began to fade although Barkk stuck as you will see.

Timmy’s dad was wise, wiser than I thought. Since I rarely barked now, I was beginning to undermine my importance to the family. Smart dogs barked when trouble loomed. So Timmy and his sisters were given a project: to teach me how to bark. Now, I already knew how to bark but I didn’t know the art of barking at the right time for the right reason. At fi rst I thought they were crazy. One of his sisters would ring the doorbell and Timmy tried to get me to bark. I looked at him thinking he had gone out of his mind.

Finally, it dawned on me that he wanted me to bark when the doorbell rang. So I did, and believe it or not, he gave me a treat. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang again and so I barked. Another treat. Then the other sister knocked on the window and Timmy informed me that it was all right to bark. So I did. Another treat. This went on for several days. They came up with all kinds of reasons for me to bark and I soon caught on. Before long, I was barking when the phone rang, when someone knocked at the door or on a window, when a car drove up in the driveway.

When I got the hang of it, the treats began to diminish. At first I as upset and began to balk. Then I realized I was getting too fat from all the treats and had a hard time keeping up with Timmy when he went out to play. One day he fell and didn’t get up. I licked his face but he didn’t respond. So, I began to bark but realized no one could hear me. So, I ran home and barked my head off until Timmy’s mom came out to scold me.

I backed away, gave a little bark, and backed further away. Then she caught on and followed me as I led her to Timmy who was still lying on the ground. He had hit his head on a rock and knocked himself out. Besides, it was bleeding quite badly and so it was a good thing I barked. It was then I fi nally learned there is a time and a place to bark. Because Timmy was so proud of me, he kept right on calling me Barkk, not Barker or Barkley but Barkk (with two k’s) and I have been Barkk ever since.

This volume gives all kinds of suggestions on finding and caring for all kinds of pets. Centered around a family and their pet, it is good reading for all ages, experienced or otherwise.  Now,

Take a peek at Chapter 4

Chapter Four
The Family Increases with a Kitty

Valerie felt left out and persuaded her parents to let her have a kitty. She would take sole possession of the kitty and assume full responsibility for it. In some ways she seems a bit too old, thirteen years, but since she has never taken to a dog I’m  not sure she’ll take to a cat. Kitties as with puppies are quite lovable but too soon kitties become cats just as puppies become dogs. If there has been a gap in the developing relationships, it could be rather hard to close. Val started out very conscientiously and took excellent care of her kitty. Before too long, however, she got caught up with other things and began to ignore her at first and then neglected Kiti. She couldn’t settle on a name at first and soon she inherited an unoriginal name but Val spelled it K-i-t-i.

Anne, Timmy and Mandy gradually took over while Valerie simply looked on or at times looked away. This was unfortunate because Val needed a friend but Kiti never became that friend. Let’s look at some of the reasons why Valerie chose Kiti in the first place. There are many kinds of kittens and most young kitties look charming. She had a choice of many lines of kittens including Angora, Burmese, Oriental, Persian, Russian Blue, Siamese and Siberian but she chose Ragdoll.

Ragdoll was an unknown to the Dorchesters so they looked further into it. They discovered that the Ragdoll kitten is a semi-longhair breed originating from California, USA, created by breeding a white female Persian to a male Birman in the early 1960's. Ragdolls have a rather big and long body. Adult females weigh about 10-15 pounds. The coat is soft like rabbit fur and being longer around the neck and on the hindquarters forms "the ruff" and so called "britches". The tail is very bushy.

Ragdolls come in any of 6 colors: Seal Point, Blue Point, Chocolate Point, Lilac Point, Red Point, and Cream Point. Ragdolls are born white and develop into full color only when they are 2-3 years old. In a sense, Val wasn’t exactly sure what her cat would look like as it matured. Ragdolls are very good at relaxing especially in the hands of the owner. They seem to able to relax every muscle of their body. They are also known for their very sweet, placid and docile personalities and are devoted and loyal to their owner. Poor Valerie. She never did experience the wonders of this cat although the rest of the family did.

Since Kiti was ordered over the Internet, she would be delivered by a courier. One site said that our Ragdolls are a part of our family. Our kittens are born and raised inside our home with our two children and our other pets. This ensures every kitten gets individual love and attention everyday. Our goal is to provide your family with a healthy, beautiful, well socialized Ragdoll and we are dedicated to finding these wonderful cats good loving homes.

No wonder the Dorchesters fell in love with a Ragdoll. Now hear this: The sweet temperament of a Ragdoll is very comparable to that of a puppy; they are dedicated, loving out-going cats that are known for their fearless nature. They are very laid back and if you're looking for a lap cat - this is the breed. Ragdolls are non-aggressive and for that reason should strictly be an indoor cat. Very comparable to a puppy? Two doggie-like animals in one household? And fearless?

I’ll have to admit I was a bit jealous when Kiti arrived. She was every bit as described, and worth every penny. In fact, she cost about ten times as much as I did but then, I didn’t arrive by plane and delivered by courier. Kiti and I kept our distance at first but then we began to check out each other. As they said, she was fearless and I am not exactly shy. We soon began to lose our fear of each other and my jealousy diminished until it was gone. Kiti was a wonderful addition to the household and when we were home alone, which was quite often, we explored every corner of the house and soon became the best of friends.

Since Valerie paid little attention to me from the beginning, everyone thought she would enjoy having her own favorite. It would be hers to own, cherish and manage but it wasn’t to be. At first she was very dedicated, fed her regularly, made sure she was well groomed. Gradually she eased out of her responsibilities which were almost unnoticeably assumed by Anne, Mandy and sometimes by Timmy.

He liked Kiti nearly as much as he liked me but we did things together he could never do with her. Meanwhile, Val was preoccupied with her own affairs. Her school chums were becoming more important to her than her family, especially her mother. They argued quite a bit, often over Val’s choice of dress for school. They also had disagreements about Valerie’s choice of music, the volume she used in her room which permeated the whole house, and her diet. Val was on a weight-loss kick and they often argued, sometimes bitterly, about her eating habits. She sulked, and at times left the dinner table and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Dad Dorchester took a pretty neutral stand during these encounters which was unfortunate. She may have been his favorite but if so, he was inadvertently contributing to Val’s misbehavior. If Kiti approached her, instead of letting her cuddle on her lap, she brushed her away. It didn’t take long before Kiti didn’t bother and found solace in the laps of Anne and Mandy, and once in awhile with Dad. At other times she cuddled up with me and we often fell asleep together.

There were times when Val brought a friend or two home with her. They would rush straight for Val’s hideout, shut the door, turn up the music and then get on their cell phones. On other occasions they cranked up the computer and it would get eerily quiet in there. Mandy often argued with Desmond about Valerie having her own computer in her room but Des always shrugged it off saying it was an old machine and couldn’t possibly do any harm. Little did he know what they were watching. Now, how did I know? Well, after all, I’m a watchdog, right?

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Note: Cobblestones and Love Carved in Wood
are also available at Amazon.com

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