Tuesday, July 27, 2010


On Monday, I was meandering through my neighbourhood on my way home from work when I saw a sign taped to a lamp post – LOST Golden Doodle. Underneath there was a picture of a dog.

First I thought, 'aww.'
Second I thought, 'Well I’d run away too if you called me a Doodle.'

A doodle is the absent-minded squiggle your pencil leaves on your notepad while you are trying to think of an excuse to escape a terribly dull meeting in the boardroom, not what a breed of hybrid dog should be named. I know, someone thought it sounded cute. But that someone did not think that one day that poor puppy would be sitting up in doggie heaven around a table with other dog spirits - playing poker (of course) - and one dog would pipe up and say, “Back on Earth, I was a Great Dane. It was a glorious existence, my mere presence demanded respect, I stood tall and I was admired by the world.”

The spirit next to him would then say, “I was a Rottweiler. I wasn’t vicious, but I didn’t have to be – no one messed with me because they knew if the need arose I could tear them to shreds.”

The third dog-spirit would follow with, “I spent my days as a Golden Retriever. I rescued children and invoked great pride in everyone around me.”

And then, “I was a Doodle.”

"A what?!”

“A Doodle”

“A Noodle?”

“A Doodoo?”

“No, no, a DOODLE. Like a scribble, but more ferocious...”

Nothing more would be heard over the laughter.

Did the dog-breed-namer guy not think about this at all?
I thought about it.
A lot.

Then I took a crisp piece of stark white paper, drew a fancy doodle with a goldish yellow marker and delivered it to the address on the sign.

happy friday!

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