After seven long months of exile from his beloved dog park, a Golden Retriever named Bark Twain, has expressed his grievances, saying that while baby food scraps are a decent consolation, they are “nowhere close to sniffing 14 butts in a row.”
Bark Twain, 5, a previously pampered canine, enjoyed a pre-baby life filled with Frisbee catches, belly rubs, and almost daily visits to the local dog park. That all changed when the Twain family introduced a tiny, squealing human named Max into the household.
“Look, I get it. Babies are cute, and they smell interesting,” Bark Twain howled during our exclusive interview. “But this little guy yanks my tail like he’s trying to start a lawn mower. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”
Bark had been a part of the Twain family for four blissful, baby-free years before Max came along, stealing not just the spotlight but the very essence of his being.
“Let’s be real. They used to call me ‘the baby.’ Now they call me ‘the dog.’ What’s up with that?” Bark woofed, clearly exasperated as he looked at a chew toy gathering dust in the corner of the living room. “The park was where I caught up with my pals: Fido, Fluffy, Duke. Now the closest I get to socializing is Max drooling on me.”
“Also, let’s talk about this so-called ‘baby-proofing’ business. They put up gates everywhere. I used to sprint from the living room to the kitchen like Usain Bolt chasing an Olympic record, but now it’s like navigating through an obstacle course on a reality TV show,” Bark Twain growled, his tail flicking in agitation. “I feel like I’m a contestant on ‘American Ninja Warrior: The Canine Edition,’ but without any of the fun or the treats at the end.
The Golden Retriever sighed, adding, “If dog parks had Yelp reviews, I’d give mine 5 stars, easy. Meanwhile, the Twain house here is a shaky 2 stars on a good day, 1 star if Max has had a bad nap and turns into a tiny screeching harpy. Look, I love the kid, but my hearing is sensitive, ya know?”
However, not everything about the arrival of the new family member has been detrimental to Bark’s well-being. The canine mentioned that the uptick in food scraps has been a “silver lining to this otherwise cloudy situation.”
“Sure, you could argue the kitchen floor is my new buffet,” Bark exclaimed, momentarily distracted by a piece of mushy carrot that Max had tossed from his high chair. “I’ve sampled puréed peas, mashed sweet potatoes, and something they call ‘baby cereal,’ which tastes a lot like cardboard, but so does the food I already eat twice a day.”
Though thankful for the delicious human food, Bark is adamant that there is no replacement for the ecstasy of zooming around a dog park and rolling in another dog’s poop.
“Just throw me a bone here, guys. Literally, I mean it. Throw. Me. A. Bone. And while you’re at it, let’s hit the park,” Bark whimpered, his eyes pleading.
