My entire life I’ve wanted to be able to talk to animals. I’m sure I’m not the only blogger who feels that way, but being able to speak with my menagerie has been towards the top of my superhero wishlist for a long, long time. Since I haven’t been bit by a radioactive spider or struck by lightning recently, I’ve found other ways to fulfill my Dr. Dolittle dreams.
It all started with a stuffed lobster dog toy that Tim gave puppy Eliot. We were sitting in Tim’s living room playing with Eliot and his new toy, and jokingly called it a “Wobster” instead of a lobster. Because Tim and I were incredibly goofy together, the Wobster turned into an entire dialect for Eliot in a matter of days. Don’t ask me how my South Carolina English Springer Spaniel that was born in a trailer ended up with a prissy boy accent with busted L’s and R’s, but that happened.
Some of Eliot’s catch phrases include:
My name is Ewiot and I am a mawine biowogist. I study wobsters and fwogs.
I just weawwy weawwy wuv my mom, okay?
Never fear – BT had her accent too. I am not proud to say that she spoke in a stereotypical Mexican accent… for no apparent reason. It just seemed to fit. She was a fesity, angry little dog with a voice to prove it. BT routinely called me a “Stupid beetch” She only had eyes for her “Teimmy” and we spoke to her in this ridiculous voice so much that she didn’t learn to “Sit” but rather would “Seeeeeit”.
Pascale is a southern princess. I don’t do the Texas accent well, but I’ve got the southeast/deep south nailed. She’ll waggle up to you and greet herself in a saccharine, southern drawl.
I’m just a simple girl from Manor y’all. My momma says I’m a pretty little panther lady.
Because Tim and I were incredibly goofy people, we had conversations between us and the dogs in their prospective voices a lot. It was a silly, fun part of my family unit and something I keep up even without him now.
I had Roman less than a week before I decided what his voice would be. Part of it has to do with the show name I picked for him, Romanov, but I’ve decided he speaks like a middle aged, slightly angry Russian man.
I do not care much for your Texas and your heat.
There’s one animal that I haven’t been able to figure out a voice for, and that is my most beloved nerd horse Simon. Why I can’t escapes me. He’s the most personal horse I’ve ever had. I know him as well as I know a close friend, yet I can’t figure out how he talks. At this point, I’ve almost decided he might be a mute.
Am I the only person in the blog-o-sphere that makes up voices for their animals?