artykins

There once was a dog named Zorba. At least I named him Zorba.  I named him so because my grandmother told me a hilarious story about him.

You see, Uncle Arnie just recently bought a house and he's been getting it set up to his liking.  Well, his neighbors on one side are Greek.  They're wonderful people, whom I hope to meet tonight when I go over to see the place for the first time outside of pictures.  I say these people are wonderful because Sunday night, they fed Uncle Arnie and Doug (co-house-person and family friend) with homemade gyros with homemade tzatziki sauce.

Now, this is woonderful on many levels because she was born and raised in the 'old country' while he was born here, but spent years in Greece living and working there before they both moved here.  That said, I think I may have found someone that makes better gyros then me now.  I'm gonna have to learn a few things.

Anyway, said Greek neighbors have a dog, Zorba.

Zorba had to go to the vet recently and was left for a while before the owners returned.  When they came to get Zorba, the vet was beside himself and told the owner that 'this dog needs obedience school!'  The owner was puzzled by this and started giving the dog instructions, which it followed perfectly.

As it turns out, the owner was giving it instructions in Greek.  Go figure.  A dog who understands Greek, but not English.

I laughed heartily at this tale.