Luke Skywalker

Miniature Poodle/Pekingese
Picture of Luke Skywalker, a male Miniature Poodle/Pekingese

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Home:Bonaire, GA  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 13 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 1-10 lbs

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   Leave a bone for Luke Skywalker

Lou, Wimp, Psycho

Doggie Dynamics:
not playfulvery playful

Quick Bio:

any one of his 20+ stuffed animals and his friends: Buffy, a maltese; and Jeannie, the beagle

any unexpected noise

Favorite Toy:
any of his 20+ stuffed animals (these are referred to as his "insecurities" because he carries them around with him whenever he changes rooms or hears a noise.)

Favorite Food:
He doesn't like typical dog treats, but he gobbles up any kind of dog food.

Favorite Walk:
in the neighborhood to show off in front of other dogs so they will think he is tough even though he's really a wimp!

Best Tricks:
He charges through the house at top speed and pivots off the back of the sofa in order to get even more speed for his nightly charge.

Arrival Story:
Our maltese, Buffy, needed a friend, so we picked Luke. His first house was gross and unclean. He had a few problems at first, but now he's healthy and happy.

He acts very tough, but Luke is really a wimp. He barks at anything that moves, but he does stop barking when we tell him to stop. He isn't "yappy"; he's just simply a little wimp. Luke is completely in love with Buffy, but he likes to play with Jeannie outside. Luke likes to be "top dog" whenever someone is petting all of the dogs; he will climb up on you so that he can be King of the Hill.

Forums Motto:
Luke---a.k.a. Lou

I've Been On Dogster Since:
July 28th 2004 More than 11 years!

I Was In The:
See me in Dogster's 2005 Holiday Picture Party!
Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Dogster Id:

Meet my family
Buffy DavisBenjiJeannie

Meet my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals

"Days of Melodrama"

A Particularly Unusual Haircut

October 11th 2005 5:13 pm
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I had an especially trying experience a few days ago. My mother took me to a store which was filled with dogs and dog smells. I even saw some of those little hamsters like we have at home. Then my mother told a lady to give me "The Works". I was excited until my mother handed me over to the lady. Then my mother left!!!! The lady bathed me, cut my nails, and then she had the nerve to shave off my chest hair and my mane!!! My mother TOLD her to do this. Now I am going to have to act even tougher around that beagle, Jeannie.

Everyone keeps saying how handsome I am, so I guess I will accept my new look. Actually, my muscles show more! I knew I was manly, but I truly did not know how manly I really was until some of my fur was gone. I am going to like this new place! I can't wait to show off in the neighborhood. I got tired of just walking in fields and woods at the old house.


"An Especially Innocent Mistake"

January 31st 2005 5:59 pm
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It is a perfectly innocent mistake which I make this particular morning. Mother goes outdoors. We dogs know where she is, and we are all anxiously awaiting what we hope will be her prompt return. Jeannie, the young beagle, seems rather insecure about Mother's absence. She stands closest to the door. Benji and Buffy sit directly behind Jeannie. I am pacing the floor in my typical fashion. Pacing clears my otherwise anxious mind.
Because I had chosen Jeannie to be our new sibling, and because I had been her surrogate mother for several weeks, I am quite disturbed by her whimpers as she stands by the closed back door. I try to tell her that Mother will return soon. I know this is true because mother has not taken her keys with her. My pacing takes me to the opposite side of the room; therefore, I am truthfully unaware of what happens next.
The door swings open, and I hear a scream. A loud, puppyish yelp of pain escapes from Jeannie's mouth. I quickly ascertain my surroundings and conclude that since Benji is standing near the injured Jeannie, he must surely be the culprit of her pain. I go in for the attack. No One- and I mean NO ONE- hurts my Jeannie. I make the guttural sounds of my wolf ancestors, and I instinctively clasp my teeth into Benji's jugular vein in an attempt to avenge Jeannie's unwarranted attack.
Mother begins to scream---at ME! She hooks her fingers into the hinged part of my jaws and pries my teeth from Benji's neck. Seeing Mother on the floor, hearing Jeannie's cries of pain, and feeling the shame of punishment, I do what comes naturally to me. I go completely insane. I leap into Mother's lap, licking her with huge apologetic swipes of my tongue, and then I decide I had better apologize to Benji, too; although, at the moment, I am not quite sure why. I bathe him all over, and he bathes me in forgiveness.
I turn my attention to Jeannie. Mother is using her sad voice and says, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," like she always does when something bad happens. Why is Mother apologizing to Jeannie? Why does Mother hold Benji and say, "I am so sorry," to him? Can I have been mistaken in thinking that Benji was the aggressor? I had been so sure. Can this whole incident have been an innocent mistake? I conclude the latter is true, because Mother begins to massage Jeannie's forepaw and says, "I am so sorry, Jeannie, that the bad ol' door mashed your little paw. I am so sorry."
So, the door is to blame. Mother turns to me, as I am still panting with confusion, and she explains that she is so sorry that I am upset. Mother says that to me quite often. She holds me close to her chest as she comforts me in my time of trouble, too. Mother knows I am innocent; Jeannie's paw is intact; Buffy remains completely undaunted; yet Benji seems most aloof in the distant corner of the room. Somehow, I do not believe HE is very sure of my innocence in this unfortunate event.


"An Especially Terrifying Canine"

January 31st 2005 12:21 pm
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“An Especially Terrifying Canine”
Being of short stature allows this canine a few amenities. I deftly slip underneath tables and into humans’ laps, and I can easily fit into the smallest bed in the kitchen. Being of short stature has many drawbacks, too. There is a particularly terrifying canine within our household. Actually, to clarify that statement, I must say that this particular canine does not live IN the household; he has earned the special status of living within a fenced in compound beneath a stand of pines on the outer border of the yard. How he earned this private domain is still quite a mystery to me. Perhaps he did not EARN anything. Perhaps his domain is really his prison. Perhaps he MUST remain in his prison to impede what would certainly be a most inevitable attack on my innocent body.
My siblings may assert that I am paranoid. I must state the facts in this matter concerning the terrifying canine in question. I AM of short stature. I weigh ten pounds. I am ten pounds of pure muscular strength. My household siblings weigh ten pounds and under with the exception of my beagle sister who is a hefty thirty pounds. No matter…even a thirty pound dog does not compare to this inmate who dwells in that outside prison cell.
I am told, and this may be a rumor, that this dog weighs 125 pounds. Simple arithmetic determines that he is 12.5 times my weight. Am I paranoid? No!! The facts speak for themselves. This canine calls himself a Labrador retriever. I think he is a type of horse. He may be a Trojan horse. I simply know for a fact that he is evil. He has even laughed at my name.
I am a Peek-a-poo. Now, I don’t believe my name sounds silly. A Peek-a-poo can be a very vicious dog, and I initiate viciousness exercises with my siblings each day. When that Labrador retriever begins to mockingly chant, “Peek-a-poo, Peek-a-poo, I am going to GET you!” I cannot be anything else but terrified. My Maltese sister, Buffy, tries to assure me that she has never heard the Labrador chant anything except, “Hello, over there, my friends!” I beg to differ.
I am ready for this dog’s impending attack on my body and on my character. I know that Mother calls him by the human name of Danny. I scrutinize Mother’s actions so I will be ready for any interaction between her and Danny. I can even hear Mother whisper Danny’s name. I can even detect in my sleep when Mother is speaking of Danny. I bark my most deep throated bark at the sound of his name. I have practiced this bark, but I still tremble a bit at the sound of Danny’s name. Perhaps if I bark a bit louder, or perhaps if my bark is mixed with a growling undertone, I can avert attention from my trembling and focus everyone’s attention to my fierce resolve.
My resolve is to show this Trojan horse of a canine that I, Luke Skywalker Hunt, am a brave Peek-a-poo. I do believe Danny saw the brave side of me one especially terrifying day. Father opens the door to the prison cell. The giant oaf gallops across the yard. Thankfully, I am confined to my own fenced in area at the immediate backyard. To defend my honor and my territory, I run at top speed and crash into my fence. I do this over and over, and although I am bruising my muscles, I know that my integrity will not be bruised after this show of courage. I decide to do something a bit more daring. When Danny approaches a nearby tree, I bark my growl embedded bark while scratching backwards with my hind legs. Now, I know from experience that this maneuver is a quite a manly one. Barking and scratching off at the same time gives my body a bit more impetus to crash through the fence if I must, and I do admit that my adrenaline is flowing rapidly throughout my bloodstream. The adrenaline rush goes to my brain and gives me a new idea. When Danny sees this, he will surely never chant my name, Peek-a-poo, in jest again. I grab the fence with my teeth. I pull at the fence with all of my ten pound might, thankful for the many rawhides I have chewed in the past. This technique seems to be working. Father leads Danny away toward the truck. It is obvious Father does not want Danny to have nightmares about my fierceness.
When Father puts Danny into the front seat of the old truck and slams the door, I must admit that I am somewhat relieved. When Father begins to approach ME, the relief melts into paranoia. Why is Father coming towards me? Does he want to praise my bravery? Does he want to thank me for my incessant barking? Father picks me up, and I feel safe again, but then he does something that has been in my dreams ever since. Father walks with me to the truck. I am going to be face-to-face with the Labrador retriever named Danny. I do believe this is more than a dog of small stature can endure. Smelling the Labrador's evil scent catapults my sanity into a faraway pit. I became insane. I bare every tooth I have. I even scratch Father in hopes of scratching that huge dog.
I am a bit embarrassed of my misbehavior on that particular afternoon. After all, Father simply wanted me to get better acquainted with Danny. My memory is a big foggy concerning my actions, but Mother snapped a few photos to show me later. I DO look quite brave. Bravery does shine through. I still cannot convince my other siblings, though, that Danny is the embodiment of all that is evil, and I will continue to bark at any mention of his name and to crash into the fence whenever he is near. May he never know how truly terrifying he is to me.

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