I am not a labradoodle!

a monologue,

by

Cubby

I am not a labradoodle.  The other day, I was walking my master through the Dana Point Whale Festival.  I couldn't step more than four paws without being gawked at, impeded, and even man-handled.  Yeah, I know I'm cute.  No I didn't step in paint cans.  And, I know they look like socks.  Like my Mom says, if I had a dollar for every time someone commented on my white paws....I'd have a lot of dollars.  Hey, dogs aren't great at math.

But what really gets me is the human game:  guess what breed?  That's just breedism. I don't guess where you people came from - despite the occasional crotch sniffing.  I don't ask why you're dressed so funny.  So, don't be a breedist.

What I get mistaken for most often is labradoodle.  I also get poodle (which I am distantly related to) and the occasional sheep dog.  Sheep dog, really?  Do I look like I want to hang out with sheep.  If you're going to insult me, you might as well call me a bichon.

What is a labradoodle anyway?  Besides being a funny word to type (you try typing with paws), it is nothing but a designer genetic mutation.  Part labrador retriever and part poodle.  They neither retrieve anything nor doodle.  Those labradoodles think they are all that, but they are nothing more than mutts.  

I come from a championship line of Portuguese Water Dogs, from that great Portuguese colony of Arizona.    When the president of the United States has one of my kind sauntering around the White House, the people should know my breed.  It's like not knowing who the vice president is....well, that might be understandable.  Besides, I kind of resemble Bo Obama, and luckily not Joe Biden.