EMMA? EMMA? EMMA, THAT’S MY NAME!
Shortly after I came to live with the Shaffer pack, my lady started saying odd things at me. I was in the yard sniffing the new smells, when she called out, “Stormy.” I had no idea why she would do that. I ignored her. A little later while I was hunting for a bird that I had seen, she called out, “Misty.” I didn’t see anything she could be talking about so I when on with my hunt.
When the man came home, my lady was talking to him. I was “sleeping” in the living room so that I could hear them talk. My lady said, “I’ve been trying to decide what to call her. We got her on a stormy day. I’ve tried ‘Stormy’ and ‘Misty’ but they don’t seem to fit. She is definitely too mellow to be called, “Stormy.” I just can’t decide.” This new pack was nice but boring. I went to sleep.
The next day the lady started giving me cheese occasionally. Cheese is sooo good. Then I started to notice that she didn’t know the name for cheese. She called it, “Emma”!
I was sniffing a really good smell in the yard and she called out, “Emma”. Well, I’m no dummy. I knew she meant “cheese” so I ran to her. She gave me the cheese! A little while later, I was digging a nice hole and she called out, “Emma”. Wow, another piece of cheese! I was around the corner sniffing a mouse trail when she called out once again, “Emma.” I’m getting to really like this, even if she doesn’t know what cheese is called. This happened over and over again that day. I never tire of cheeeese! I ran to her to receive each piece.
When it was starting to get dark outside, the man came home. Doing my dog duty, I ran to meet him. He gives nice pets and rubs my belly just the right way. I like him.
My lady and the man were talking about cheese the whole time he was rubbing my belly. Emma this. Emma that. He didn’t know the correct word either! What else am I going to have to teach these people? Then I noticed that each thing my lady said the cheese, the Emma, had done that day was something I had done! Cheese tastes sooo good. It doesn’t do anything. The man rubbed my belly one last time saying, “Well, Emma puppy girl, I guess your name will be “Emma”.
My name! Oh, that’s right they didn’t know my name. When I was at the shelter they didn’t know my name. Chris who rescued me didn’t either. My lady and her man do not know my name! I guess “Emma” is a nice name. I get cheese when I come to it. I’ll let them call me, “Emma.”
I’ve got sniffing to do. Talk to you later,
Emma Basset