Yappy Easter

(Author's Note: Story 2 of Puppy Dog Tales. That's just a cutesy way of saying this features the same narrator as "Anywhere But Here.")

"No, you are not going to put rabbit ears on Wolfgang's head!" Charles said to Hawkeye in my defense. I was standing right next to Charles with a dogged look on my face, showing my full support of his opinion. I love Hawkeye, but there was no way I wanted to wear those dumb-looking rabbit ears he was holding.

"Charles, his name is not Wolfgang. He's the camp's dog, not yours, so the entire camp gets to name him. But until we get the results of the voting, feel free to call him Fido."

Charles barked out a laugh. "Fido! How utterly unimaginative of you. I wouldn't use that name for this wonderful little creature if his life depended on it."

Hey, wait a minute! I turned to look at Charles, thinking, let's not be so hasty here… Actually, I didn't care a whole lot what they decided to name me, though I wasn't too keen on Wolfgang. If they called me Wolfie for short, though, maybe that would be kind of cool.

Hawkeye took a step toward me. "It's just a cute little pair of rabbit ears—"

I stepped back from him, wanting to growl to show my displeasure, but I couldn't do that to Hawkeye.

He seemed to understand, though, that I wasn't having any of it. He shrugged. "OK, Fido. No rabbit ears for you. Got it." In one quick motion, he put the rabbit ears onto Charles's head instead! Not that they stayed there for long, of course. Charles whipped them off his head almost as soon as they were put on.

"I loathe you, Pierce."

Hawkeye was laughing, and I was pretty amused myself. These Swamp guys were a pretty entertaining bunch. Never a dull moment in this place.

B.J. stuck his head into the tent then, saying, "So am I the only Swamp rat who's actually helping to hide Easter eggs? C'mon, guys… the orphans will be here in less than a half hour."

"Right behind you, Beej," Hawkeye said, following his friend out and finally abandoning the idea of putting the rabbit ears on some person or canine. If he liked them so much, why didn't he just wear them himself?

With them gone, Charles turned to look at me. "You're welcome, Wolfgang. No need for you to look silly parading around in some ridiculous Easter get-up, isn't that right?" He patted me on the head and I gave him a doggie smile. He and I were good buddies. When you first meet Charles, you might think he's a bit of a jerk who doesn't like anyone, but I found out pretty quickly that his bark is worse than his bite.

There was a knock on the Swamp door and then Klinger came in, all dressed up in his Easter finest, looking very pretty in pink. He's a real character, that guy. At first he scared me, but now I know that he's a sweet guy who's only putting on an act to appear nuts. From what I gather, the Army's a dog-eat-dog world, and Klinger's just a pussycat who doesn't want any part of it.

"Major?" he said excitedly. "You're not going to spend the day holed up in here, are you? We have the orphans coming for a full-blown Easter celebration… egg hunt, picnic, the whole shebang." Finally he seemed to notice that I was there, and he reached down to pet me, saying, "Oh, hey, Lucas." Everyone was calling me something different, and it was darn confusing. I would be glad once they had their camp vote to decide on one name! Klinger's choice of Lucas, he had told me once, was because his beloved city of Toledo was in Lucas County. This didn't make much sense to me (what do I know? I'm just a dog), but then again, neither did Hawkeye's decision to call me Fido. If I had shoulders, I would shrug them. As long as they didn't call me late for dinner, as the old joke goes.

I could tell Charles was trying to figure out how to get out of going to the Easter picnic, because he was sputtering a little, finally telling Klinger, "What if somebody's needed in post-op?"

Klinger wasn't buying it. "Oh come on, Major. There are two nurses covering post-op… everything's under control there… that's no excuse. Come on out and help us hide Easter eggs. Join in on the fun!"

Charles reluctantly went along with Klinger though I'm certain he had no intention of having fun. I followed them since I prefer to be around people, but I knew I wouldn't be able to help with the whole hiding of Easter eggs thing. I wasn't even entirely sure of the point. Just hide them? Why not bury them? That's what dogs would do. What can I say, I often find human traditions confusing.

Just as I approached Hawkeye and B.J. out in the clearing, I saw a big truck making its way down the road toward us. I gathered this was the orphans arriving for the festivities. Oooh, I was starting to get pretty excited. Any kind of party is always fun, and this group really knew how to throw great ones. When I'd first arrived here, I was invited to Hawkeye's birthday party, which raged on for almost 12 hours! I'm telling ya, it was a howling good time.

Hawkeye and B.J. approached the truck and helped the orphans climb down off it. Major Houlihan was there in the next instant, doing the same. She said to Hawkeye, "Before we start the picnic and egg hunt, Col. Potter wanted to say a few things to everyone."

Hawkeye nodded and looked at me. "Do me a favor, Fido?" he asked. I gave a soft "woof" to show that yes, I was willing. "Run and get Col. Potter, let him know that the kids have arrived." I wagged my tail furiously and gave a couple of "woofs." I loved it when they gave me something important to do!

I ran to the Colonel's tent and tried to figure out how I was going to communicate my message to him. I'd start by barking a whole lot… see if that worked. I used my nose to nudge open his tent door and stepped in without an invitation. When you're a dog, you can get away with doing stuff like that.

The Colonel was on his bed and it looked like he was napping. "Woof?" I asked. No response, so I raised the volume a little. "Woof?"

Hmm, there was still no movement from the Colonel. I carefully stepped closer to him. I didn't want to startle the poor guy. Lots of people hate it when you sneak up on them and scare them. At full volume, I went, "Woof!" and waited for him to wake up.

He didn't wake up, and now I was really concerned. That last bark should've done the trick. No longer worried about startling him, I put my paws up on his bed and licked his face… waited for a response… and still got none.

Oh dog-poop! He wasn't napping… he was passed out! That couldn't be good. A few days ago he'd had a pretty bad case of the flu, and we all thought he was over it (he'd even worked a long OR session yesterday), but I guess maybe he wasn't fully recovered after all.

My little heart racing, I ran out of the Colonel's tent and back to Hawkeye, barking my fool head off the whole time. I used the high-pitched, frantic bark that's supposed to mean "Emergency! Help!"

Hawkeye and B.J., who were by this time entertaining the orphans with a pre-picnic singalong of "Here Comes Peter Cottontail," heard me coming and brought everything to a halt right in mid-song. They seemed to understand that something alarming was going on. The kids whirled around to look at me, some of them looking a little frightened.

"Fido?" Hawkeye asked me, concern clouding his face. "What is it?"

Still barking, I did a kind of twirl, trying to suggest they should follow me. I was hoping they'd get it. B.J. smacked Hawkeye on the shoulder and said, "Something's up, Hawk."

"I sent him to go get Potter—"

"Then I think we better go check on him."

I went, "Woof! Woof! Woof!" to let them know that's exactly what I wanted them to do.

The two of them left the orphans in the capable hands of Major Houlihan and followed me at warp speed. I'm a fast runner, but those two guys kept up with me. I led them straight to Col. Potter's tent and the three of us barged in, where the Colonel was still out cold on his bed.

"Oh damn," Hawkeye said when he saw the situation. "He's passed out… let's get him to post-op, Beej, and get some IV fluids into him."

B.J. stuck his head out the door and yelled into the compound, "Medic! Anybody! We need a litter in Col. Potter's tent, on the double!"

I took that as my cue to get out of the way. The doctors needed to work, and everything would be OK now. I let myself out of the tent and stood off to the side, watching as Goldman and some other guy showed up with a litter. The Colonel was on his way to post-op in no time. Whew, I felt so much better knowing he was being taken care of.

Luckily, Col. Potter was fine the next day. It'd just been a harmless little fainting spell after his nasty bout with the flu. The doctors kept him in post-op longer than he would've liked, but they wanted him to rest and get some fluids. He was ornery about it, but he listened to them. He was back to his cranky, colorful self in no time, and the whole camp—myself included—breathed a sigh of relief.

A few nights later, there was a post-Easter party in the mess tent (any excuse for a party with these folks!), where there was still an abundance of leftover boiled eggs and chocolate bunnies. (No chocolate for me, though. Dogs can't eat that stuff, though it does look delicious.)

In the midst of the festivities, Hawkeye stood up and waved his hands, trying to get everyone's attention. When that didn't work, Radar finally just screamed, "Quiet!" and that did the trick.

Hawkeye announced, "In addition to celebrating post-Easter, we're gathered here tonight for a couple of other reasons." He gestured to somebody off to the side, and the cook came out with a plate of roast beef covered in gravy! Holy collie, that looked delicious! "First, to present our camp dog with this delectable reward for alerting us to Col. Potter's condition the other day. Thank you, dear Fido!"

I had no idea that was coming! I was all set to run to the plate and start devouring the goodies on it, but Hawkeye put his hand up to stop me right in my tracks. "Just one more thing, Fido my friend. You'll get to eat in a second, I promise. But we have one other piece of business to attend to first. The official naming of you, our camp dog… because something tells me you're not real fond of Fido. And I'm sure you're not liking Wolfgang much, either!" This brought laughter from the assembled group, except for Charles, who grumbled. Hawkeye beckoned, "Radar?"

Radar joined Hawkeye at the front of the room. He had his clipboard in hand, and he read off it: "After a camp vote, we have chosen for our dog the name…"

Hawkeye made a drumroll sound and did the hand gestures for good measure.

"Blake!" Radar exclaimed, ending the suspense. "Named, of course, in honor of our former C.O. Henry Blake, who, just like this pooch, always wanted to help in any way he could."

Ooooh, I liked it! Blake was a very cool moniker. And to be named after someone they all loved and admired so much… it was an honor.

"OK, Blake," Hawkeye said with a smile. "You may eat your roast beef now."

The cook set the plate on the floor and I ran to it and started gobbling up the food. Even so, I could hear the whole group applauding for me…

Blake.

I wagged my tail like crazy as I ate. It's true. Every dog does have his day.