I used to be the neighbor who grumbled about dogs that always barked.
Now I have one.
My youngest son calls Blue a barkaroo.
He made up a song about it,
“Blue is the bark-a-roooo
of the cent-ur-eeee.”
Those are the only words, sung on a continuous loop in melodious nine year old boy lilt.
Of course I’m charmed.
He’s my fourth grade son, singing about our big sweet pup who still needs to learn some volume control.
July 23, 2012