An Interview with Vivian Louise Brown: June 2013

Vivian Louise Brown is a five-year-old West Highland Terrier. She currently resides with her mom, Nancy, and this lame blogger in one of the Beachwalk Way town homes in the Sandestin resort, but would prefer something in the more upscale Burnt Pine neighborhood. She detests frogs.

Although she is normally wary of any publicity, Vivian recently consented to an interview. Her only condition was that there be no frogs present.

Good morning, Vivian. How are you feeling today?

Fine I suppose, although I do have a lot on my plate today.

Really? You mean you have some appointments lined up, that sort of thing?

No. In case you didn't notice, I'm a dog. We don't do appointments. For one thing, we don't understand time. To us an hour is the same as a day which is the same as a week or a month. Every time you walk in the door, it's as if I haven't seen you for one of those things I just mentioned, whichever one is the longest. When I just said I have a lot on my plate, I wasn't being figurative. I don't know how to do that. I just meant that there was some extra food on my plate and I'm going to have to deal with that.

You just said you don't understand time. Exactly what do you mean by that?

Wow! So this is what it's like to be interviewed by an idiot. It means exactly what you think it means. As a dog, I have no concept of the passage of time. When you say to me that you're going out and will be back in an hour, this is what I hear: “blah blah blah blah out!”

OK, why don't we talk about something you DO know about. How do you feel about squirrels?

Glad you asked. Frankly, I detest them. I wish they'd do something about them in my Beachwalk Way neighborhood. I hate the way they flaunt themselves; that pompous feeling of invulnerability they display. And I particularly hate their tails.

How do you express these frustrations?

The only way I know. I'll sit under their tree and bark non-stop until either the squirrel moves or you and Nancy force me back inside. I have no choice. That's the deal my people made with squirrels. They flick their tails at us and we bark at them.

Forgive me, but with all that barking, well, it sounds as though you're the annoying one, not the squirrel:

Next question.

Right. Let's talk about sleeping. It seems like you do quite a bit of that on a given day:  

Well, since I don't know what a day is, I'm not sure how to respond. All I know is that your town home has lots of cushions, and pillows, and soft, warm, elevated places, so I take advantage of the comforts available to me. I mean after all I am a dog. Nobody is depending on me to solve the world's problems. I have no other place I need to be on a given day. And while we're on the subject, it seems to me like you are quite a napper yourself. A regular Joel van Winkle!

Very funny:

Hey, if you don't like the answer, don't ask the question.

Fair enough. You said something about elevated places. What do you mean?

Well, there is no doubt that I am short. Compared to you, I'm tiny. Even when you compare me to other dogs I'm on the low end of the spectrum. So my people have developed the habit of climbing up onto high ledges whenever possible so that we can appear to be taller than we really are. I think it's the same deal as your people buying SUV's. Call it vanity if you like, but I like the view from up there.

I see. When you're up there sleeping on top of the sofa cushions, do you ever have dreams?

Sure.

What do you dream about?

Squirrels.

Got it. What about taking a walk? Do you enjoy that?

How can I put this? To me, taking a walk is one of greatest events I could ever hope to experience. Maybe you've noticed my excitement when someone even mentions the word “walk”. Oh, and while we're on the subject, I know how to spell w-a-l-k, so you can stop that tired old ruse. When I hear that word,  I just can't seem to control myself. Here it is in a nutshell (pun intended): The best thing that could ever happen to me is for a squirrel to fall out of a tree. The second best thing is to take a walk. Period.

What do you like about these walks?

What don't I like? I mean the fresh air, a chance to experience new things. I've always felt that travel broadens the mind. Why just the other day Nancy and I were on a walk and we met a cute little Pekinese. I believe you would say we had a moment, whatever that is. She taught me how to say “Hello” in Chinese.

Terrific. How do you say that?

Ruff.

Very funny.

It's an old joke but still a good one.

So what else do you like about these walks?

Well, Sandestin is a really beautiful place with lots of little ponds, great bird life, that beach I can't go on, plenty of other dogs, even these weird people who golf.

Yes, as you know, I'm a golfer myself. Why do you refer to golfers as “weird people”?

What else would you call them? I mean they spend their time trying to make a hard little ball go from here to there and when it finally goes in that cup, they fish it out and do it all over again. Not for nothing, but I've seen a lot of them get as mad at that ball as I get at the squirrels. Look, I enjoy chasing a ball around as much as the next guy, but there's a limit. And you don't see any of my people grousing about handicaps.

Let's change the subject.

Hey, you brought it up. And we haven't even gotten to the expense. I mean between buying the latest driver, and the best golf bag, and losing all those Nassau bets, I imagine you spend about...

Wait. I thought you didn't understand money.

I don't. I just know that whatever it is, you spend a lot of it on golf. Why just the other day Nancy was saying that...

What did Nancy say?

Oops. I think we'd better conclude this interview before I cause a domestic dispute.

Fine. Anything else you'd like to add?

Well, I don't want to get overly sentimental. It's not in my nature. I mean after all I'm not some kind of slobbering retriever or setter. I'm a terrier and we're nothing if not stoic. But, I just want to take this opportunity to let everyone know that living in Sandestin with you and Nancy has been...tolerable. And I'm happy to say that I have consented to stay with you for at least another dog year.

Gee, thanks.

Don't mention it.