Putting on the dog
Ludwig von Wrinckelpuss was a mutt of the finest kind. His true parentage was a deep secret long lost in the forgotten lore of the precinct, and his description would just be a large dog with long legs and enormous feet. His name was offered by Dickie Saunders in a mood of ridicule, for Ludwig was no closer to aristocracy than was Archie the cockroach. Ludwig von Wrinckelpuss soon nicked off to ''The Baron,'' and The Baron was our family pooch for going on ten memorable years, attending to every duty with zeal, dispatch, and sagacity. Whatever accrued, there was faithful Ludwig, well in charge, everything in hand, and not a thing to worry about. He was lovable to a fault, one of his faults being the cordial wet smack, and let a lady speak kindly to him and he would climb right up in her lap. He would meet wayfaring tramps a half mile up the road and fetch them all a-wag right into the parlor. Of all the dogs we've had, and farm dogs come and go, The Baron was the prince and the pride. I thought so much of him that I faked his papers.
His lineage was thus impressive. By Sirius Canis Major out of Cerberus, he had a bounding start, and as his family tree waxed I was apprehensive that the AKC might become suspicious. An Uncle was Argos the Argive, and a first cousin was Gelert of Llewellyn. I recall numerous others of his ancestry: Mother Hubbard's dog, the dogs of war, the little dog that laughed to see such sport, the gingham dog that went bowwow, the dog having his day, his Highness's dog, Hamilcar Barca, the toss't dog that worried the cat, the dog that bayed the moon , See-nul-nuk (the lead dog on Peary's dash to the pole), the hound of the Baskervilles, the dog that doth delight to bark and bite, the dog in the manger, Cave Canem, The Fastest Hound Dog in the State of Maine, dog eat dog, Mad Dogs and Englishmen, snappi