Hi, I'm Springer, he's Roly. We're born and bred west Tennessee pups and proof positive that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Roly's part beagle, part refrigerator. I'm part Lab, part hound, and part disposal.

We were rescued two years ago, from a fate worse than death, by a soft-hearted dog catcher, Mr. Springer. I'm his namesake. Mr. Springer brought us to live with the Vickers family, who had just moved from a big city doggy nightmare to 120 acres of wooded bliss.

We've got a great family, and they've been quick learners. Dan's my boy--he's 14, and Merrilee belongs to Roly. She's ten. Those two get in more fights than we do! But we've got them trained to come when we bark, feed us at suppertime, and rub our bellies throughout the day. Roly would do anything for a belly rub. Sometimes, though, I'm too busy for much of that.

We have our own private homestead, complete with a house and fenced-in yard. I can open the gate and let myself in and out, but our family often forgets how talented I am and opens the gate for me. I haven't quite figured out the lock yet.

We've got the run of the land, and we let our family run around our property, too. We've been educating most of the wildlife there as well--teaching them about personal space and food webs and all.

My family often takes walks around our property. I guess they worry about getting lost because they stay on the trail most of the time. We just follow our noses. Well, actually, we follow MY nose. Mine's better than Roly's, but he won't admit it.

When they aren't outside playing with us, my family is inside on the computer and the Internet. You might think us dogs don't know about such things, but the truth is, we've had our own version of that stuff for years.

It's called "smellecommunication." When we go for our walks, we check in on the Interpet, leaving "P"mail for our other doggy friends. That's all part of the Information Pooper Highway, you know.

And sometimes we participate in real-time chats, usually after dark when we begin our mutual barking session with all the other doggies and coyotes and boogers in the neighborhood.

I guess our family must be jealous of those chats, though. They keep telling us to be quiet, and even resort to locking us in our house at night. They just don't understand how ideally sound travels at 2am!

I've even found love on the Interpet. I have a sweetie up the road--she's got the biggest brown eyes, softest fur, and the cutest little tail wag when she walks. I guess she's got what you call "animal magnetism." She draws dogs from miles around and we have to stand in line just to get a chance to visit with her.

You know, though, I'm a little afraid I may have Old Timer's disease at the ripe old age of 2 . Sometimes I can't think of anything but that little lady, and then other times I just forget she's there. Must be those aluminum dogfood bowls I eat from.

Maybe it's just as well. My family doesn't seem to appreciate it when I stay out all night with her. I just grin at them in the morning and they can't stay mad at me.

Yep, life is good up here on the hillside. I can laze around all day, chase squirrels, chew on Roly, and end the day with a pat on the head from my family. Not a bad life, if you can get it.