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My name is Scooby, but they only call me that (very loud) when I don’t feel like listening. Sometimes I tease them by ignoring them.  For friends it’s just Scoob.

I’m thirteen years old. Peter and Ellen adopted me when I was only 5 weeks young. My nationality is Dutch (we live in Rotterdam), but my mom was from the U.S. and my dad from Chile. That South American temper kept me so lively all those years. Only two years ago I gave up behaving like a puppy. Sometimes it drove P & E crazy.

Unfortunately my bones aren’t that strong anymore so I have to slow down. I hate that. Sometimes I try to go wild again, but afterwards I have to suffer for that behaviour. I’m on very expensive medication for arthritis, which makes a big difference.

Peter and Ellen say that dogs are the only reliable creatures: that their love is absolute. I stick by them all the way. I love them and I comfort them when they are in pain. I make them laugh and I make them cry (when I’m in pain). I take care of their physical wellness by letting them walk me.

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I even help doing the dishes. What more can they wish.

Please send my love to all my Fourlegged Friends,

Scoob.

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