Deborah O'Toole

Foofer Goes East

Foofer O'Toole had become quite comfortable with his Mummy's "friendship" with Wilbert. In fact, Foofer had come to love Wilbert so well that he hated to be away from him for very long. You see, Foofer tended to pout a bit when he was feeling low. His Mummy could always tell when he was blue - Foofer would lay about, hang his head on occasion, and give great, big sighs. Often.

Foofer got to see Wilbert maybe once a week, sometimes twice. Once in a great while, Foofer and his Mummy would stay the night at Wilbert's house, and Foofer loved that the best. He got to see Wilbert all night; in fact, Foofer tried to keep Wilbert from sleeping he got so excited. Foofer would get on Wilbert's bed and lay on his chest, licking his face and making whining noises in his throat. Wilbert would laugh most of the time, but once or twice Wilbert sort of became annoyed and told Foofer:

"Lay down, boy. It's time to go night-night."

Foofer usually understood this, but sometimes he pretended not to so he could stay next to Wilbert on the bed. Finally, Wilbert would give up and Foofer stayed right where he was. Foofer would smile secretly to himself, and then he would settle in for the night.

Right next to Wilbert and Mummy, Foofer's favorite place to be. Besides the car.

One hot summer day (this was eight months after Mummy had started bringing Wilbert to see Foofer), Foofer overheard Mummy and Wilbert talking softly. But Foofer listened well - he just never let on that he did. Mummy and Wilbert were discussing moving away to another state together. Foofer's ears perked up.

"I'm tired of living here," Mummy had said.

"So am I," Wilbert replied. "I'd like to live in another state."

"Me, too," Mummy said softly. "But where?"

"What about Montana?" Wilbert asked. "Or Colorado?"

"Colorado sounds nice," Mummy said.

Foofer was concerned. As he listened to them talk, not once had Mummy and Wilbert mentioned taking him along on this move. Foofer felt a bit panic-stricken, but he tried to conceal it as he continued to listen to their human-speak.

"We need a house with a yard," Wilbert was saying. "For Foofer."

Foofer started wagging his tail. There! Dad had finally said it, had included him in this little discussion him and Mummy were having. Foofer listened some more, intent on learning what was going on - or what was going to happen very shortly.

"Colorado sounds the best," Mummy was saying.

"I agree," Wilbert replied, taking Mummy's hand and kissing it. "So, Colorado it is! And look out world, here comes Foofer!"

Foofer simply could not contain himself. He jumped up to Wilbert, wrapping his paws at Wilbert's shoulders. Wilbert laughed - that great, deep laugh - and kissed the top of Foofer's head. "Its okay, big boy," he soothed. "We would never leave you behind."

Packing for Foofer was a very involved process. If one didn't know better, it would seem as if the packing was being done for a "royal" dog, including all the trappings of majesty. Foofer was aware of this, but it seemed normal to him because it had always been that way. The day before he, Mummy and Wilbert were due to leave for their trip, the upper-crust packing began. Foofer lay quite comfortably on a bed to watch his Mummy pack, as she laid out a large, red satchel; another small black bag; and two large plastic bags with handles on them. Foofer set his chin on his fore paws, his eyes wide and very alert as he observed his Mummy. He wanted to make sure she didn't miss a thing!

First came the toys. Foofer was hard-put to choose which toys he wanted (there were so many, and he knew he couldn't take them all!). Finally, Mummy chose his blue fuzzy lamb with the broken squeaker; the big yellow half-moon with the mouse attached; a white and worn plush toy in the shape of a bone, and finally one of Foofer's absolute favorites, a turquoise "nanna" (banana). Mummy stuffed these toys in the red satchel, and then she began to pack some food.

Six cans of "Mighty Dog"; two packages of "Vita Snacks" (one cheese-flavored, and one beef); one package of turkey "Beggin Strips"; a dozen flat rawhides; an entire box of multi-flavored biscuits; two extra-large basted rawhides; one dozen round rawhides; a baggie filled with "Townhouse Crackers"; a package of people-beef-jerky; a tupperware container full of kibble; and last but not least, a triple-pack of "Dentabones." Or as Mummy called them, "la brosse a dents," which was French meaning the bones with the "toothbrush design."

Foofer watched all of this with keen interest; he knew Mummy was an old pro at packing for him, and she had done an excellent job once again. The food was placed in the red satchel as well; and then in one of the plastic bags, Mummy placed his dark-green food bowl; an extra small dish; and an "indoor" water bowl (This was very large and could hold a whole gallon). The water bowl for the car went into the bag, too. Then Mummy put a gallon-jug of spring water in the second plastic bag.

"I pack more for you than I do myself," Mummy was heard to murmur, but with a smile on her face.

Foofer wagged his tail, his ears perked up.

"Mustn't forget your pillow, either," Mummy said. She grabbed a large black pillow that was lush and soft. It was Foofer's best pillow, and Mummy had bought it from the "Martha Stewart" collection. Foofer loved laying his head down on the pillow, or hiding his nose underneath it while he slept. Then he wondered to himself if Mummy would pack his green-and-white-striped blanket, too.

As if reading his mind, Mummy said aloud: "This is August, Foofer. You don't need your blanket."

Foofer sighed. She was right.

"Can I pack for myself now?" Mummy asked him.

Foofer wagged his tail, his eyes on Mummy.

"I suppose that means 'yes', does it?" she continued.

Foofer wagged his tail again.

Wilbert picked up Mummy and Foofer in his rented car at two o'clock in the morning. Foofer groused out of bed; he was not used to getting up this early, and he couldn't understand why they had to leave at such an hour.

"It's a long drive, Foof," Mummy said. "Ten or eleven hours, and we need to get started early!"

"Whatever," Foofer thought to himself.

But Foofer was happy when he saw Wilbert arrive in the rented car. It took ten minutes for the greetings to take place (Foofer couldn't help himself - he adored Wilbert, and the excitement was almost too much to bear). When Wilbert took the luggage and started placing it in the trunk of the car, he kept shaking his head. Finally, Mummy asked him:

"Why are you shaking your head?"

"You've packed enough stuff to last for a month," Wilbert replied, his tone disbelieving. "We'll only be gone three days!'

"Foofer needs his things," Mummy said defensively.

"Yeah," Foofer thought. "I need my things, Dad!"

"I wasn't complaining," Wilbert said patiently, trying to explain. "I have just never seen anything like this."

"You have now," Mummy laughed.

Wilbert also packed Mummy's bag, and a small red cooler. Foofer knew what this cooler contained, and he was anticipating a taste treat along the way. Besides his own food, he knew Mummy and Wilbert had to eat, too. Inside the cooler was soda pop (which Foofer hated; he didn't like the fizz); individual baggies full of cubed cheese (yum!); four deli sandwiches made with chicken and turkey meat (which Foofer had watched Mummy make); and a dozen hard-boiled eggs. In another container (a small box), there were canned items - four big cans of vienna sausage (one of Foofer's favorites); two of deviled ham and chicken; one of tuna; one cheese-in-a-can; a box of crackers; a big bag of potato chips (Foofer liked these), and three loaves of bread: one of white, one of oat-wheat and one of sunflower. Foofer anticipated some great "tasty morsel" treats on this long ride!

Wilbert settled Foofer into the back seat of the car, and he was delighted to see his black pillow propped up against the arm rest of the door. Not to mention Mummy had snuck in his green-and-white-striped blanket, and it was smoothed over the backseat of the car, quite comfy-looking. Wilbert had also placed his water bowl for the car on the floor of the back seat. Foofer was set, and he was as happy as a clam (so to speak).

Once they began their journey, Foofer's excitement was tempered by the lulling motion of the car and the darkness of the hour. He felt his eyes growing heavier and heavier, and he tried to fight it but couldn't. Sighing, he took one last look at Mummy and Wilbert in the front seat of the car, and then Foofer laid his head on his black pillow and snuggled into his wonderful green-and-white-striped blanket.

Wyoming was a rather dry, barren state to Foofer. They stopped the car several times, and Wilbert would take Foofer for walks amongst the sagebrush. This was okay, and there were a lot of new smells and new places to life one's leg. Mummy kept taking pictures of Foofer and Wilbert, and when she took one of Foofer lifting his leg on some sagebrush, Wilbert admonished her:

"Deborah Elizabeth, don't take a picture of Foofer doing that!"

"Why not?" Mummy asked (her real name was Deborah Elizabeth, but Wilbert only called her that when he was reproving her). "We should get a photo of Foofer going in every state we drive through." She winked at Wilbert, and then stuck out her tongue at him. "Is that okay with you, Wilbert Albert?"

Mummy only called Wilbert his real name when she was teasing him or mocking him, and Foofer hid a small smile behind his panting, and he pretended not to hear what they were saying by looking up at the sky.

Wilbert had to laugh. "Like I could stop you!" he told her.

Once on the road again, Foofer asked for biscuits every so often, and he drank a lot of water. It was very hot and humid for August, and Wilbert kept the car's air-conditioner running at all times. As they passed through Wyoming - Laramie, Rock Springs and Little America - Foofer wished they would get into Colorado already!

"I want to lift my leg in Colorado!" Foofer thought with glee, "that will make me a true quad-state dog!"

Just after ten in the morning (they had already been on the road for eight hours), Wilbert drove the car over the state line between Wyoming and Colorado. The scenery and the air changed instantly. There were pine trees off to the side of the road, and the area didn't seem as barren as Wyoming. Ten minutes after crossing the border, Wilbert pulled the car into a rest stop.

"Time to walk Foofer again," Wilbert said. "And you can get your leg photo of him!"

Foofer started panting and wagging his tail. He couldn't wait to life that leg and smell the new scents!

Sure enough, as Wilbert led Foofer on his leash in the area (and Foofer was happy with the pine trees and the pretty plants), Mummy took a picture just as he was lifting his leg at the base of one of the pine trees. Wilbert started to laugh again, and he said: "Are you happy now?"

"Very," Mummy replied, her eyes twinkling.

Foofer was happy, too, and he wagged his tail to show his appreciation. He gave a short, quick bark, and Wilbert continued to walk him through the pine trees.

Fort Morgan, Colorado was the place for them, and Foofer knew it as soon as he saw it. They arrived there just past two in the afternoon, and Foofer sniffed at the air through a crack in the back window; the air was filled with the sweet aroma of corn fields and freshness, and he loved it at once. Even Mummy and Wilbert seemed in awe.

"This place is great," Wilbert said. "Only 11,000 people live here. It's perfect!"

Mummy agreed. "Can you believe this? It's simply a bit of heaven!"

Foofer was excited, but he was also tired and warm. Before long, Wilbert and Mummy found a motel on North Platte Avenue, and this seemed to be a main road in Fort Morgan. The motel room was right off of this road, and it allowed pets (for an extra $5). As soon as they got into their room, Foofer ran around smelling all the furniture and making sure it was safe for all of them. Wilbert and Mummy unpacked the car, and Foofer watched them as well, making sure they didn't forget his toys, food, pillow and blanket. And of course the large "indoor" water bowl!

There was a king-sized water bed, a table with a chair, a television, a small fridge and microwave, a coffee pot ("Thank God," Mummy was heard to mutter); and a bathroom with a shower. Mummy flipped on the window air-conditioner, and Wilbert tuned on the television. Foofer drank a lot of fresh, cold water from his indoor bowl, and then he jumped onto the king-sized bed to relax. Wilbert joined him.

"I love this place already," Wilbert said.

"Me, too," Mummy replied.

"Me three," Foofer thought drowsily.

"But we still need to drive around," Wilbert pointed out. "Let's check out the area around Fort Morgan. There may be an even better spot."

"I doubt it," Mummy told him. "But we'll drive around all the same."

Foofer was only half-listening to their conversation. He was so tired and simply worn-out; the arctic blast from the air-conditioner was making him all relaxed and drowsy, so Foofer thought: "I'll just close my eyes for a minute, just a short rest. Then we can go out and explore some more, and a bite to eat wouldn't hurt, either."

Foofer fell into a dreamless and deep sleep, and he didn't awaken until much later.

Later that evening, Wilbert, Mummy and Foofer drove around Fort Morgan (this was after Wilbert had given Foofer several walks around the motel). Wilbert took the car to the small town of Brush (seven miles from Fort Morgan), and then they doubled-back and drove around Fort Morgan again. Foofer looked in wonder out the backseat window: the town was small, but not a "hick place," as Mummy was fond of saying. At first Wilbert was enthused, and then he said (almost as if to himself):

"Chucos," the word was in Spanish, which Wilbert is fluent in. Sometimes he said things like that, and Mummy would not always understand him.

"What do you say?" Mummy asked him.

"There were some kids back there who looked like they belonged to some sort of gang," Wilbert replied darkly (the word "chucos" meaning gang members). "I saw them on the next street over."

"There are gangs everywhere," Mummy said. "It's worse where we live now. How much of a problem can it be in a place like this?"

Wilbert shook his head. "We'll see."

Foofer looked back and forth between Wilbert and Mummy as they talked. He had crept quietly up between the two front seats, listening carefully. "Oh, please," he begged silently. "Let's move here. Who cares about the 'chucos' - or gangs, whatever they are? I'll scare them away - I'll growl and snarl and bark at them."

As if Wilbert was reading Foofer's mind (he had a funny way of doing that, just like Mummy), he looked at Foofer between the seats and said:

"Gangs are groups of kids who think they have a message for the world, Foofer. They band together with a common cause - or what they think is a common cause - and they go around scaring people, destroying property, and sometimes even doing serious harm to innocent bystanders. Usually all they really are is kids that are bored beyond belief, and forming a 'gang' is something they think is cool, and it helps pass the time. These kids just don't realize how stupid and ignorant forming a gang really is, or how very un-cool it makes them look. It can literally ruin their lives, or end their lives completely at that."

Foofer listened intently, his ear's alert and perked-up. "I can handle these little squirts," Foofer said, although not so Wilbert could hear him - it sounded more like a deep yet soft growl in his throat. "One good snarl and a show of teeth, and they'll run for their lives, I promise. Besides, it's my job to protect Mummy. I wouldn't ever let anyone near her."

Mummy spoke up: "But Fort Morgan isn't like Salt Lake, Wilbert. The two places are absolute worlds apart. Fort Morgan is a wonderful, clean place. There is no traffic to speak of, no dirty air - all I can smell is the sweet aroma of cornfields. This is a perfect place to live, and I know Foofer will be happy here."

Foofer wagged his tail, although Mummy and Wilbert couldn't see that. Foofer thought: "I have an opinion, too, you know! I want to live here!"

Then Foofer stopped himself. But what about Gamma and Gampa O'Toole? And Ganny Elva? And, of course, the Uncle George Dude? If Mummy and Wilbert and Foofer moved to Fort Morgan, they would be leaving behind part of their family - it was a 12-hour drive! Foofer had second thoughts - he didn't want to leave the rest of his family, but he also knew he could not live without Wilbert and Mummy.

Mummy was reading his mind again. "We'll visit Gamma and Gampa often, Foofer. And Ganny Elva and Uncle George. They'll come and see us, too. You don't have to worry about that."

Foofer exhaled a short breath, and it seemed like he was panting, but he really wasn't - he was smiling a great big smile and thumping his tail. What was left to decide then? Time to make the decision and move to Fort Morgan, Colorado!

If only life were that simple!

They spent an extra day in Fort Morgan; they drove around some more, and asked questions of the owner of the motel. They asked this man what Fort Morgan was like. The man said it was the best place he had ever lived, and he had come from Chicago 13 years before. Before they left, Wilbert and Mummy had all but decided to make plans to move to Fort Morgan. It was the perfect place, something Gampa would call "God's Country."

And it truly was.

Mummy, Wilbert and Foofer left Fort Morgan at five in the morning; Foofer still wondering why they had to leave when it was still dark. He jumped into the backseat of the car, not even bothering checking if his water was in place. He saw his black pillow and green-and-white-striped blanket; that was all that mattered. Foofer hunkered down to get some sleep as the car started to move. Mummy and Wilbert were speaking quietly, and the sound of their voices soothed Foofer and made him feel secure.

Foofer dreamed about the treats he'd had on this wonderful trip. He'd had his own food, of course, the food Mummy had carefully packed for him. However, every time Mummy and Wilbert had something to eat, Foofer had his share of that, too. He gorged on vienna sausages and cheese, and the Townhouse Crackers were all gone. The second night they had stayed in the motel room, Mummy and Wilbert had ordered pizza, and Foofer had some of that, too. There was ice-cream following that, and Wilbert made sure Foofer had his own little helping in his special food bowl. Foofer felt like he had eaten like a King, but his tummy was rumbly and he was so tired.

Then Foofer dreamed of the walks Wilbert had taken him on when they had stayed at the motel. Once or twice, Foofer had nudged Wilbert awake in bed at one and three in the morning, and Wilbert had risen without complaint and attached the leash to Foofer's collar. Happily, Foofer had trundled outside, straining against the leash, anxious to mark some sort of territory here. They had walked past the back alleys (which were so clean and tidy), and then Wilbert had taken Foofer as far as a Catholic Church called St. Helena's. For some reason, Foofer knew this was important to Mummy and Wilbert, because they were both this thing called "Catholic." Foofer supposed he was, too.

"Catholicism is a religion, big boy," Wilbert had told Foofer in his dream, reading his thoughts again. "Not everyone belongs to a religion or a group, but most people do. In the world there are Catholics, Jews, Protestants, Lutherans, Anglicans, Methodists, Baptists, Jehovah Witnesses, Buddhists, Mennonites, Druids.......the list goes on and on, big boy. Religion is the faith of individual people, the belief they have in God. While we may all worship differently, and some not at all, there is one particular feeling running all through these various beliefs."

"What one particular feeling?" Foofer wanted to know.

"To be kind to your fellow man," Wilbert continued, smiling down at Foofer. "To be honest, and to treat all people with respect, no matter what their religion, race or gender."

Foofer nodded wisely, trying very hard to understand. Wilbert always explained things very nicely.

Foofer was jolted awake as Wilbert stopped the car. They were back in Wyoming (Foofer sighed), and it was time to get out of the car and take another walk. Foofer stood up in the back seat and shook himself. He had been having such a nice dream, and he was sorry to see it come to an end. But later he could fall asleep again, and there was no telling what he would dream about this time!

"Little America," Wyoming, and the Flying Red Ants:

Wilbert walked Foofer between the sagebrush and the hot sand just past "Little America," while Mummy made sandwiches out of the cooler in the car trunk. Occasionally she would smile and wave at Wilbert and Foofer in the distance (Wilbert always took him such a long way!). Foofer and Wilbert were about halfway back to the car when Wilbert started acting strangely. He was sort of running and slapping at his neck and arms, and Foofer looked up at him, frightened and concerned. Foofer started to growl, running alongside Wilbert. Only it wasn't like running any more - it was as if Wilbert were careening to the left and to the right, like a drunken sailor. He was yelling and still slapping at his neck and arms, and now Mummy was walking as fast as she could toward them. Foofer could see she was scared, too, and this made him growl some more.

"Get in the car," Wilbert was shouting as he was running. "Close the trunk, get in the car and roll up the windows."

Mummy did as she was told (for once), and Wilbert and Foofer were right behind her. By this time, Wilbert had pulled off his shirt and was whipping it through the air. Foofer sped up his pace, and they were soon in the car. Doors slammed shut, but the yelling continued.

"What is going on?" Mummy asked, her voice frightened.

"Red ants," Wilbert declared, slapping his legs and arms still. It was then that both Foofer and Mummy saw the red beasts - they were big and round and fat, with black wings, and long, pointy back-ends. Wilbert was smashing the ones he could find, crushing them with his powerful hands and the bottom of his soda pop can.

All of a sudden, Mummy let out a loud scream and started slapping at her own legs. Foofer lunged forward between the front seats, his teeth barred and a deep growl roaring out of his mouth. All he could think of was that Mummy was hurt, and this panicked and angered him beyond reason. Wilbert held Foofer back, trying to calm him:

"It's okay, boy," Wilbert said. "Mummy just found a flying red ant."

A flying red ant? Foofer shuddered, but still kept his stiff stance.

Mummy had flipped the flying red ant off of her, and Wilbert squished it. "The dirty little bugg.........." Wilbert stopped himself, and looked at Foofer. "Fling red ants are like regular ants, big boy, but they can also fly, and they sting. They're mean.......and...." Wilbert paused. "Why were they attacking only me, and not Foofer or you?"

Mummy was giggling. "You used my shampoo this morning."

"So?" Wilbert asked, puzzled.

"My shampoo was apple-scented," Mummy replied. "The ants must have been attracted to that." She laughed again. "Either that, or they were sweet on you, Wilbert Albert."

Wilbert laughed, leaning over to kiss Mummy. Foofer shoved his way between them:

"Hey, what about my kisses?"

Both Wilbert and Mummy kissed Foofer on each side of his snout, and Mummy whispered in Foofer's ear: "I love you, little boy. Love you lots."

And Wilbert whispered in the other ear:

"Love you, big boy."

Foofer wagged his tail, and then he sighed. So, which was it? Was he a little boy or a big boy? He supposed it was all in how one looked at it, and he knew these were affectionate names' Mummy and Wilbert used with him. Along with "fooferbug"; "baby cheeks"; "bugbag"; "love cake"; "Rowso"; and the very ultimate, "love muffin." Mummy had so many nick names for him, Foofer sometimes wondered where in the world she dreamed them all up. But Mummy was a writer after all! What else could you expect?

The ride home continued and Foofer grew sleepy again. This time, he kept one eye peeled for a stray flying red ant ( he wasn't sure if Wilbert had squished them all). Foofer let his mind wander again, and he thought about how much he had loved this trip to Colorado, and how much he wished him and Mummy and Wilbert could move there and live together. Foofer understood there were a lot of things to consider - Mummy and Wilbert had to find "jobs" first ("jobs" were places where Mummy and Wilbert went and stayed all day, just so they could get money to buy his food and toys and pay for his visits to the vet). Plus, they had to have a house to live in with a big yard.

"Sometimes life is too complicated," Foofer thought drowsily. "But I know a lot more stuff now. I know about the stupidity of 'chucos', or gangs, and I know more about what people call religion. All in all, this has been a wonderful trip. As long as I have Mummy and Wilbert right there beside me, there's nothing to ever be afraid of again."

Foofer looked up from his place on the backseat, his eyes going to Mummy and Wilbert as they sat in the front two seats. They were quiet now, and the only thing Foofer could hear was the hum of the air conditioner, and the smooth roll of the car wheels on the highway as they sped along. There was also a faint buzzing noise, and Foofer was certain neither Wilbert nor Mummy could hear it. But Foofer knew what it was, and he had to smile to himself secretly. Foofer sensed there was one more red flying ant in the car, and it was in the trunk. The next time they stopped, and Wilbert opened the trunk, the red flying ant would come charging out, madder than a hornet. And Mummy would surely scream again!

That was okay, too. It provided great entertainment for Foofer, now that he knew what all the hoopla was about!

Foofer settled into his black pillow, and his green-and-white-striped blanket, and he let out a sigh that sounded more like a low growl. But he was content. He was with Mummy and Wilbert, the best place in the world to be. Foofer felt safe and secure and warm and comforted.

As he drifted off to sleep again, Foofer thought with jubilation:

"The best part of all was I went through two more states these last three days, and that makes me a quad-state dog. And I can honestly say I lifted my leg with pride and honor in each and every one!"

by D.A. O'Toole (Debby Hunt)

September 30, 2001.

Self-Published with EXEBOOK.

(Version 2130A, file size: 500KB)

Cover photograph of Wilbert Alviso and

Foofer O'Toole (August 2001) by Debby Hunt.