MY PALS: Rosie

I’m not gonna lie:  We didn’t hit it off right away, Rosie and me.  It felt kind of like one of those arranged marriages you hear about.  Just because Tana and Beagle Man want to hang out on the bench in front of Jack’s Coffee with their breakfast sandwiches and

their cold brews, doesn’t mean me and Rosie have to like each other.  The first bunch of times, we’d have at least one scuffle.  She’d growl, I’d snarl, we’d both bare our teeth . . . that kind of thing.  It didn’t help that Beagle Man was enjoying his egg-and-cheese on a baguette, and I was getting these microscopic Zuke’s treats.  But when Rosie came to visit me at my beach in late July, everything changed.  Turns out we both love the ocean.  We both love to fetch.  We both love to

swim.  We’re about the same size — Rosie’s a Wire-haired Pointing Griffon, 6 years old.  We both look kind of shaggy and ratty when we’re wet.  But here’s the thing that really impressed me.  When Beagle Man heaved my purple squeaky ball into the waves . . . Rosie got to it before me!  This doesn’t happen.  Sure, occasionally Ruckus will beat me to a ball in the sand; Rucky is really, really fast.  But in the water?  Swimming?  Nobody beats me.  But Rosie did.  There’s only one thing you can say when that happens:  Dawg, you got my respect.

RICKY THE BEAGLE USED TO HAVE HIS MY PALS COLUMN.  I’VE ALWAYS WANTED ONE OF MY OWN.  NOW I HAVE IT.