I've lived in the Newport area for many years now,
so I know a slew of "colorful" locals, as well as the
habitual surfers, runners and beach cruisers who
frequent the vicinity around Blackie's.

Some are old friends from high school,
some are drinking buddies from Mutt's or The Blue Beat,
some are adversaries in 10k races or triathlons, and
some are surfers whom I'd only recognize if they're astraddle a board.

A few of these weirdos know I'm a fursuiter, but many don't,
and that's where my fun begins.

Ambling up the Newport Pier, I spied two old friends on their
paddle boards making the circuit from The Wedge to the 1 mile buoy.
I gained their attention with my best police dog bark. Startled, they gawked
up at the pier only to see the usual tourists and one large mutt looking
down at them.
"Hey Corncob! Hey RBI!" I yelled and gave them the happy paws.

Corncob earned his nickname during a Baja camping trip when we ran
out of toilet paper and he was forced to use a corn cob to..... you know.
He is a friendly, affable, likeable guy.

RBI got his moniker from a 7th grade baseball game in which he batted
in a runner and won us the contest. It was a semi-heroic deed that he
talked about incessantly for years after; indeed it was possibly the high
water mark of his life.
RBI is a peevish little character who enjoys being angry and causing a fuss.
Why he and Corncob remain friends is beyond me.

Upon hearing their names being bellowed from above by a suspicious
looking canine, Corncob broke out in a huge grin and waved at the
assembled crowd, whilst RBI dropped his paddle and glared at the
tourists and the loud GSD.

I gave Corncob more happy paws, and then proceeded to bark and
snarl at RBI, something I've always wanted to do.
The tourists loved it, but not so much RBI.
He picked his paddle out of the Pacific and skulked off into
open water.

I'll buy them a beer and tell the story next time I see 'em at Mutts.
If RBI is still mad I may have to bite him.