This is Hunter.
He is our very own living legend here in the black hole just outside of Harmony Grove.
People often ask, what makes him a legend?
Well, let me count the ways.
Is it his prior king of the jungle status?
Could it be that shelf of shiny trophies from the era he reigned as tug-o-war champion of the world?
Or is it his acting career as Bark Man, the loudest barker of all time and fearless leader of the Titanic Trio, featuring his feline sister and brother Cat Lady and Tuxedo Boy?
While all of these amazing chapters are pieces of what makes this dude special.
And trust me.
He is special.
What makes him a legend is the way he always makes the necessary changes and fine tunes his talents to fit his ever growing ass, as time marches on and he becomes more and more ancient, right before our eyes.
For example, after the night of the attack of the wooly mammoth episode, back when he was king of the jungle, Hunter revised his title to, king of the front porch. It just made more sense. He sort of had to since his mother would not let him run free after the sun set. And over time he realized that it was easier to howl at the moon and all the UPS drivers from the comfort of his front yard, rather than patrolling the woods and the field and the pond as he had done in the past.
Although the pond will never really stop calling his name.
He took the disqualification in stride at his last tug-o-war competition a year ago, for not standing up and making his opponents do all the work. He barely batted an eye at that. Now he just receives the biscuit at the end of the match without all the pulling beforehand.
We three find it more relaxing.
And the movie star in him will always be Bark Man, both on and off the screen.
He is the John Wayne of the Titanic Trio, since the character he always plays is always himself.
The good new is, it sounds like my sister Louisa, executive producer of the show is getting ready to get back to work in the near future. She said she just needed to take a break from the spoiled rotten actors that all live in this house with me and my sweet Sven.
But none of this matters to Hunter.
Hunter like any true amazing soul is always looking for new ways to perform at his very best.
To work with what he has.
That is why every evening he gets right into position as soon as he hears Sven open the lid to the cookie jar.
I believe this has something to do with his pal Kogen, our grandson who plays hockey. They have always been tight.
No piece of cookie, no matter how big or how small, will make it past that barrel chest of his.
He can block any shot like nobody's business.
Every game is a shut out.
Of course he usually cannot find the prize that has been picked free of chocolate chips and has bounced off him in God knows what direction.
And yes, somebody does have to get up to help him look for it on the rug and then hand it to him on a silver platter.
But that is not the point.
The point is, this guy still turns his old sad brown eyes by nature and begging purposes, into sparkling, dazzling, cookie eyes.
And that is just one reason his parents, as in we, continue to slide his sling under his belly and help him stand up on his stick legs that are not keeping up to the rest of his ever expanding self, to keep on keeping on.
For as long as he wants.