Bruno Part 1

I can remember the day I was chosen as a new member of a loving family. 
For a pup I have had an extraordinary sense of all that is around me. 
That first day when Hap, my new father came right to me and gently 
cradled me in his arms, I was instantly captured by his loving embrace. 
He told everyone who saw us together that I was his other son. He didn't 
even consider himself as my master. I looked up to him, trusted him 
completely, and loved him beyond master - hood. Hap named me Bruno (The 
Bear) right from the first view he got of my Bob-tailed Timber Wolf furry 
rear end waddling back and forth as I tried to coordinate my big 
over-sized Malamute snow-feet. My mother was a beautiful pure bred 
Malamute. She had won many top praises in competition for her breed. I 
and my puppy brothers and sisters liked cuddling up to her giant fluffy 
form where we all fit just fine, waiting eagerly for her to tell us 
stories of our family tree. I like the story about how she met my father, 
who was a 170 pound Light- Blonde Arctic Bob-tailed Timber Wolf. She said 
his breed were little known among men, and legendary among the hounds of 
the northern territories. He came down too far into lands of men one too 
many times hunting. His elders had scolded him for being overly and 
unwisely adventurous and carelessly curious. He was caught by a man, who 
luckily for him, was a good man. Dad was caught in a harmless trap that 
was meant to capture, not maim, or kill trespassers who hunted in the 
right place, at the wrong time. My Father was not strong enough to resist 
the man who befriended him slowly. It succeeded only because of the tender 
age of my father. His master became a companion after the tough love 
stage had succeeded. They moved to the Southland's where my mother lived. 
Like in what the humans call movies, The master fell in love with my 
mother's matriarch, and as people say, "the rest is history" Mr. and Mrs. 
man, and Mr. and Mrs. dog. It's not real clear which happened first. 
Maybe at the same time. Anyway, it really doesn't matter I guess. I know 
I am one of the results of the match. We pups gave my father lots of room 
to spare. He was so tall; I wondered how he would be able to tell if he 
squished one of us pups. He was quick on his paws though. He was always 
Leaping of a sudden to miss one of us. As I said, His kind were without 
tail. I took after him in that respect. Humans who didn't know my father 
gave him much room ; in fact, I could sense the hairs on the back of the 
men's neck prickle with controlled fear. Now that I am older and 
comprehend more of what I sense, I understand why my father was given 
such respect. I am usually 40 to 50 pounds short of my fathers weight, 
and people are always trying to get away from me before I have even moved 
a paw. I do take to pawing up massive chunks of sod and dirt with my hind 
paws though. My brother Joe, Haps first son always gets exasperated when 
I do this as he gets a face full of dirt and debris. It's usually the 
worst when he is on his hands and knees pulling up green stuff out of the 
ground. For a long time I thought he was gathering the stuff to feed on, 
but later learned that humans pull it up because they feel it is an ugly 
mess. I like it when he does this though, because I can get right in the 
dirt with him at my head level with his, and we can sniff each other 
better. Sometimes when I give him a bit of a kiss and his eye gets in the 
way he says,"Bruno! Your tongue is as big as a cow. In certain areas of 
our marked territory (called property by man) he digs holes and he lets 
me dig some too. It's great fun, except when he comes across one of the 
many bones I've buried as a cache. Let me get back to my father Hap. He 
gave me such a wonderful puppy-hood; He often climbed on this noisy 
smoky moving thing of his and went around and around and around, over 
and over again for a time. The noise scared me at first, but as time 
passed riding on this thing with Dad was the greatest fun, and it made 
it so that I was close to him, which is where I wanted most to be. When 
I was real small, he put a box on top of what he called the hood of the 
mower thing, and placed me in it where I would ride right out in front 
of him from where he sat. He said I was his hood ornament. When I got 
bigger and bigger he put a thing called a trailer behind the mower 
machine for me to ride on. I really liked that because I could run around 
on it and jump off easy if I wanted. He didn't like that because 
according to him it could break my buns, or worse; like I wouldn't be 
able to dig holes any more cause of breaking my dirty overgrown paws. 
What fun and great times I had with him as a pup. When I am old and 
tired, lying on my brother Joe's feet, I will have such good memories 
to daydream about. Some humans don't think dogs and other critters can 
smile. Let me just say, I'm here to smile at their ignorance. I'm going 
over and sprawl out on my lawn chair for a time. I have a great many 
adventures to tell later on. Oh Oh! water is falling out of the sky 
again, my family says when my fur gets wet it stinks. They won't come 
near me until I am dry. I shake my body to get the water off but then 
everyone just screams and runs for the house yelling BRUNO!!!!!!