I cannot say for certain the true origin of Wagz, whether he is a Labracorgi, an Oodleweiler, a Labracorgioodleweiler... He has that sort of appearance... Y'know, the kind you'd attribute to a Mr. Potatohead assembly process. To give you a clearer picture, imagine a mysterious circus type who says he can make you a dog, any dog, but all the parts he has to make one are a lanky set of legs, a wirey coat of blonde curls splotched with brown, a slightly curled, expressive tail, the square head of a champion stud, and the ears of a clumsy Corgi. When he puts them together, what he's really fashioned is a dog that could look like any combination of dogs. That's Wagz... Well, what he looks like anyway.
I mention his odd features first because they somewhat explain his elusive habits, ones I've noticed more and more in our partnership as the dogbassadors for Barkley & Wagz, a brand our owners cooked up for dog lovers who also love smartphones and shopping for humans. If you were to visit the online store at www.barkleyandwagz.com and examine the logo, you'd know immediately who Wagz is. What else would you call the dog who's always just enough in view so that all you could make out is a tail? It is no exaggeration. I do not remember the last time I woofed at the guy to receive a reply from anything but his hind parts.
Those are just his quirks. What really makes Wagz a remarkable creature is his story. He was just a tiny mutant of a pup when he escaped the Dangerfield puppy mill. It was one scorching, fateful day in July when he sneakily clawed his way up Mr. Dangerfield's sweatpants to the back of his jacket. As Wagz's human arch nemesis stomped his way from the dingy dog pen to his cushy suburban palace, that deft dog was able stay put long enough to slide down to the dining room floor. Even though Old Dangerfield heard Wagz's claws click and was just about to snatch him up, Wagz was able to create a diversion with an overturned a bowl of water. That's when he dodged his way through an obstacle course of chair legs and clutter to reach the kitchen and slide through the doggy door.
His ensuing journey was just as full of crawls and slides and unexpected diversions as that sweltering July escape. He crawled his way through mud and across busy streets to find himself on a promising doorstep, only to be spotted by animal control and taken away to a shelter. There, he got to know hundreds of curious human faces as they walked by to make friends with the next dog. Two months into his residency at the cramped shelter he was finally found, but not by a person who would change his life for the better.
Wagz hasn't said much about Vince Feldor, the man who took him in, but I can tell that the day Vince left him in a cardboard box on the side of the road with a sign that read, "FREE DOG" was a relief. This is where Wagz came upon the most unusual of foster parents... Her name was Mina, a forty-nine year old heiress with a famous piano-playing Poodle named Clareece.
Mina looked into the eyes of her newest muse and exclaimed with a squeal, "Oh, we're going to have so much fun together, aren't we?"