“Labradoodles? Some lady in
the city has Labradoodles,” Doc said, putting down the paper.
“Hope it isn’t catching,”
said Dud.
We knew without being told
what a Labradoodle was, of course. It meant that a good retriever got too
close to one of those tippy-toe prancing fluffs and now there are puppies
that need good homes. We’d been broken in to this world by cockapoos and
peekapoos, so a genuine Labradoodle wasn’t that much of a stretch. At least
it gave us something to talk about over coffee.
“You know,” said Doc, “if you were to
cross Lassie with a Cardigan Welsh corgi, you could get a colling card.”
“You send that same corgi on a blind date
with a shar-pei,” said Dud, “and you could end up with a bunch of card
sharps.”
“This is getting bad ... but now that
you mention it, what if a half Yorki-half old English sheepdog got interested
in a lonely papillon. You’d find yourself with yoroldpappis.”
The waitress was giving us looks like
she needed our seats at the counter to be empty. Especially since the dog-combo
disease was spreading.
“You take one of them Japanese Akitas,”
said a guy from the truckers’ table, “and cross him with a Boston terrier,
you’d get Akitaboston.”
“But what would it unlock?”
“A Scottish terrier and a great Dane would
produce some Great Scotts,” Dud said.
“At least that would sound fairly good
in a classified ad,” Doc added, nodding.
“OK,” said our waitress, finally succumbing
to the downward spiral of waning intellect, “if you had a part saluki,
part terrier and crossed it with a part bull mastiff and part Llasaapso,
what would you get?”
“A litter with an identity crisis?
“No. You’d get a bunch of ap-saluki-terri-bulls.”
The groaning continued for minutes
while we got refills.
“If one of them Australian
dingos got crossed with those little Mexican dogs,” Dud said.
We looked at him and waited.
“Well?”
We shrugged.
“You’d get a dinkahuahua,
of course.”
I think that’s when Doc hit
him with the napkin.
At least when it was over, no one
had suggested a tryst between a shih-tsu and a bulldog.