Chet Baker is Five!

Today, December 12, Chet Baker turns five. I can hardly believe the Eternal Puppy is five years old! But I have a hard time believing Phoebe is 13 and Liam is 10, too. As I write, Liam and I are deciding what Baker's birthday meal should be, and The Bacon is happily chewing an ear of Nylabone corn in a pile of Polarfleece blankets. The cake needs to be something other than chocolate. Rest assured that he will be getting even more hugs and kisses than usual, and a variety of wrapped presents to rip open. Susan, yours arrived just in time!

Not long ago, we took a ramble with Chet's friend Cooper, a cattle dog/blue heeler cross.

Cooper is a very, very nice dog. He defers to Chet, having figured out immediately that that was the only way they were going to get along.

I have to play nicely with Chet Baker? He's not very polite, you know. Well, maybe you don't know. But trust me on that. It's a dog thing. You might not understand.

I do understand, sweet Cooper, and I hear you loud and clear. And you are a good good boy for putting up with him.

Boston terriers think Keepaway is the best game ever, and that's because they're fast, agile, and extremely snotty animals. At first, Chet got the stick from Cooper every time, but now Coop has learned to hold it in reach, then whip his head to the side at just the moment Chet's jaws are about to clop on it. A snapshot of that exact moment:

When they tie onto a big stick, GAME is ON.
Chet starts out at the lower end.

He works his way closer and closer to Cooper.


And the snarling starts.

You can see Cooper's expression change the closer Chet gets. Gaah, Baker is such a hobgoblin.


I wish I had a soundtrack. It is quite impressive, with continuous raspy snarling--a hailstorm of snarls--from Chet Baker, and the occasional low rumble from Cooper.

But Cooper doesn't give in.

Though he takes a terrible tongue-lashing from Chet.

GIVE ME THE STICK. GIVE ME THE STICK. GIVE ME THE STICK, COOPER YOU PITIFUL GIRLYDOG!! GIVE ME THE STICK OR I WILL LITERALLY KICK YOUR SPECKLY BLUE A--!

Note position of Tennessee turd-tail. Danger! Danger! But Cooper's tail is up, too. He ain't givin' in. Gee, Chet, can you stand any taller? You need Tom Cruise's platform shoes, buddy.

Mighty tugs, and lots more snarling. The bulldog in Chet comes roaring out.

Cooper is the ideal companion for such a Napoleonic beastie.

Any friend of Chet's has to be able to say, "You win!"


Happy birthday Chet Baker! Known as an inveterate bully among his few dog friends. The American Gentleman, around people. But we have abundant forgiveness for your transgressions, few as they are. In fact, there are only three: Canine Napoleon complex, a tendency toward suddenly boinging up four feet into the air and French-kissing unsuspecting guests, and your well-documented gaseous emanations. Forget 'em all. Chet Baker you are all spirit, all heart, and one of the bright lights of my life. Happy five, sugardog lovepuppeh!!