 DECEMBER 12 • 2019 | 5

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Jewfro
What’s Newf? Me ... Rushmore!
G

reetings, Michiganders 
and Michigeese! Ben 
has been pretty sleep 
deprived lately — can’
t imagine 
why — so I am here in shed, 
lending a paw to share some 
good newf.
Allow me to 
introduce myself. 
My name is 
Rushmore and I 
am a dog. Now 
I know what 
you’
re think-
ing: Dogs are 
unreliable narrators, least of all 
10-week-old puppies. Well, I 
have Disney+ and it seems to 
me that animals, insects, toys — 
even brave little toasters — have 
more emotional intelligence 
than those adolescent humans 
who are always manipulating 
their adults with shenanigans 
and hijinks. 
Excuse me for a moment. I 
just discovered the presence of 
a foreign object narrowly out of 
reach and I am confident that 
I can catch it if I just rotate my 
entire body at increasing speeds.
Where was I? Like you prob-
ably, I am originally from Eden. 
Eden, South Dakota — hence 
the name Rushmore — is home 
to 93 humans, which must 
make it a major population cen-
ter. I have four sisters and three 
brothers, one of whom is head-
ed to Alaska for some superior 
sunbathing.
I flew here from Fargo via 
Minneapolis last month. If you 
think the seats in coach are 
bad, try riding under the plane! 
(Delta, not Spirit Airlines. No 
one deserves Spirit Airlines.)
Contrary to popular belief, 
I am not from Newfoundland 

myself, though I hear it’
s love-
ly this time of year. I am, of 
course, proud to follow in a 
long lineage of gentle giants. My 
mom is Bydand’
s Eliza Dolittle 
of Briarwood and my dad — he 
of blessed memory and liquid 
nitrogen 300° below — was Sir 
Robin Hood of Briarwood. You 
can sniff up my whole family 
tree at newfoundlanddog-
database.net.
Maybe you heard the news 
recently about my long-lost 
cousin Dogor. Sad story — he 
was about my age when he got 
trapped in some ice. Bear in 
mind, this was 18,000 years ago 
in Siberia, so his invisible fence 
was a crevasse. 
Speaking of bears, I am not 
a bear. But I play one on TV
. 
I currently weigh 23 pounds 
and enjoy being cuddled like 
a 23-pound human baby. This 
will become increasingly dif-
ficult once I am 150 pounds. 
Again, not a black bear, though 
that’
s not far off the 190 lb. 
average of ursus americanus in 
California. (California is just 
past South Dakota according to 

a map on the cover of the New 
Yorker magazine.) Ben tips the 
scale somewhere in between 
and similarly thrives on food 
scraps and tummy rubs.
You may be wondering, do 
I like you? I do not like you. I 
love you. You are so good. Yes, 
you are. Who’
s so good? That’
s 
right. Yes it is. According to 
the journal Science, you and I 
both experience an increase in 
oxytocin when we lock eyes. 
Oxytocin — as you know, yes 
you do — is a hormone that 
plays an important role in social 
bonding, so please look up from 
your phone unless you are using 
it to take a video of me eating 
your sandal.
Unlike all other dogs, I am 
the best. Virtually every human 
I have encountered in my many 
weeks has corroborated this, at 
a proximity that allows me to 
lick their faces. Face licks are the 
canine equivalent of notarizing. 
So it’
s official, the best — with 
the possible exception of Lola, 
the lady newf (don’
t like the 
B-word) who lived here before 
me and did outstanding work 

training this family. See you on 
the rainbow bridge, Lola!
I recently had a procedure 
done on my widdle eye wids 
and have been wearing an 
Elizabethan Collar since. That’
s 
the official name. If you insist 
on calling it a cone of shame, 
then shame on you! And don’
t 
pretend that you haven’
t had 
work done on your eyes. The 
girl person made herself one to 
wear in solidarity — a kind ges-
ture, but a little too Handmaid’
s 
Tale for my tastes.
I may not know much yet — 
like what could possibly be bet-
ter than investigating these piles 
of leaves at 4:30 in the morning 
— but I know a few things:
First, I have up to 300 mil-
lion olfactory receptors. All 
mine! How crazy is that? Truth 
be told, though, if I sniff your 
butt, it’
s not because the part of 
my brain devoted to analyzing 
smells is 40 times greater than 
yours, but because I think it is 
hilarious.
Second, we are going to be 
best friends. All of us. The best-
est. Since there are many of you 
and I have a strict regimen of 
napping in doorways at inop-
portune times, it may be hard 
for us to spend lots of quality 
time together. So you can keep 
up with me on Instagram: 
@rushmorethenewf.
Third, there are a lot of very 
good dogs who aren’
t as lucky 
as me, so Ben is going to donate 
a dollar to Detroit Dog Rescue 
in honor of every #newffriend I 
make online this week.
Smell ya later!

Ruv,
Rushmore

Rushmore

COURTESY OF BEN FALIK

Me and Ben, 
Phoebe and 
Judah

