El Bark-no

Hey, I’m not going to tell you how to raise your kids.  I keep my kids in a couple of sacks at the ends of two long tubes and once a month I chuck one into the toilet, just for kicks.

But you should not teach your kids that dogs say “El Barko” in Mexico.

(I have it on internet authority that dogs say “guf guf” in Spanish.  Too bad kids today don’t know anyone who can speak Spanish who could give them a straight answer instead of encouraging this nonsense.)

15 thoughts on “El Bark-no

  1. It’s probably just somexenophoic guy who’s worried about all them furriners. I mean, really, Le Woof? Only a Francophobe would teach his children such things.

  2. A friend of mine (who is a Spanish teacher) has convinced her mom that chihuahuas speak spanish. She was dog sitting some chihuahuas and her mother came over and said “sit and got no response. My friend said “sit” in spanish and the dog immediate stopped and sat.

  3. Darling, I’m only trying to protect you from a man who would teach you incorrect Spanish. You don’t want to go to Mexico, be out in the countryside counting stars and stealing smooches from a cute local boy when all of a sudden, you hear a noise in the night–guf guf guf guf guf–and the cute little local boy says, “Oh, senorita, it must be the local pack of killer wild dogs. We should flee.” and you be all, “Oh, no cute local boy, wild dogs go ‘el barko.’ That must be something else. We are perfectly safe.” and get eaten alive, would you?

    I didn’t think so.

  4. El barko is different from the “growlero”, which is to indicate that the the animal is issuing a warning. Worse still, is snarlemente, which, roughly translated, means, ‘I’m about to bite your cabeza right off.”

    Feel free, though, to stumble in here, oblivious to the fact that I hold many degrees in animal language, and am considered the world’s leading authority on proto-euro-canine-discourse.

    Yea, well, I thought so.

  5. Darling, I’m only trying to protect you from a man who would teach you incorrect Spanish. You don’t want to go to Mexico, be out in the countryside counting stars and stealing smooches from a cute local boy when all of a sudden, you hear a noise in the night–guf guf guf guf guf–and the cute little local boy says, “Oh, senorita, it must be the local pack of killer wild dogs. We should flee.” and you be all, “Oh, no cute local boy, wild dogs go ‘el barko.’ That must be something else. We are perfectly safe.” and get eaten alive, would you?

    I didn’t think so.
    ——–
    *laugh*

  6. Did you say something, Mack? I was busy listening to my friend Mick, who’s totally making me chicken friend steak right now and preparing to let me rest my head on his lap–very manly lap–while he feeds me tiny bites he’s gently blown on until they are neither too hot nor too cold for my pallet. In his native land, it is considered an unpardonable sin to promise a girl chicken fried steak only to mock her while eating it one’s self.

    It is said that men who even inadvertently ate chicken fried steak without me would climb the Templo Mayor and offer themselves to AuntBetochtitlan as a human sacrifice.

    It’s in all the Mexican history books. Oh, excuse me. All-o the-o Mexicanemente historio bookos.

    As I’m sure you know.

  7. the world’s leading authority on proto-euro-canine-discourse

    That’s sooooo limited, you know. Just think of all the Uralic, Asian (north and south) and African canines you’re ignoring.

    Oh, and since you’re such an expert, what noise do El Birdos make?

  8. SuperMousey, you’re a lot smarter than your dad. But do you know who El Birdos were? I think your father and I may be among the few who comment here old enough to remember them, and I don’t think he was paying attention.

Comments are closed.