“Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue. . . . Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumbshows and noise; . . . it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.”  ~Hamlet, Act II, Scene 2 — William Shakespeare

As I watched Elvis doing his best martial arts act on the sofa pillows, I noticed how incredibly like Po, the Kung Fu Panda, he looks.  I have not seen the movie, but I have seen Jack Black, the voice of Po, on several talk shows, and I have seen the movie previews on TV, and I have even read a couple of movie reviews because there is something appealing to me about Po, although I did not recognize what it was until I made the observation about Elvis. Now, I’m sure I have to see the movie!  Po is Elvis’ animated twin!

Elvis is a ham.  And the most endearing thing about him being a ham is that he’s totally unaware of his “haminess.”  This is just Elvis’ way.  He is really quite versatile in his antics.  One of his most affected performances is when he hears something or sees something that sends him into a frenzy of barking.  Most of the time, it’s something that the average person or pug wouldn’t even notice.  There is a Nextel commercial featuring a very light, high-pitched cell phone ringing that absolutely sends Elvis into a paroxysm of rage, “splitting the ears of the groundlings” as Shakespeare warns against.  Elvis’ bark is the antithesis of his brother Kojak’s, which sounds more like a little old man dog with laryngitis.  Kojak’s bark is annoying at best and worst, but Elvis’ bark is startling at best and terrifying at worst.  He sounds like an enraged Rottweiler.  Everything in that bark says, “I’ll tear you to shreds!”  The other day, Elvis snuck out on the porch as my son opened the door to greet his friend who was stopping by, and upon spying the young man in the driveway, he launched into that “I’ll eat you alive” tirade.  The young man rocketed back to his truck in true cartoon fashion before he even saw the chubby little dog from which that ferocious bark emanated. When he saw him wagging his tail on the outside of his truck, he grinned in embarrassment, but that’s the effect that Elvis’ bark has on people.  There is a tagline from Kung Fu Panda that shows the evil Tai Lung sarcastically asking Po, “What are you going to do?  Sit on me?”  To which Po replies, “Don’t tempt me.”  That’s about what you’d figure from Elvis, too.  There is just no ferocious temperament in him to back up that bloodthirsty bark whether he’s greeting a stranger in our yard or hearing that little cellphone ringing on TV.

On the other end of the spectrum, when Elvis is trying to gain sympathy with his whimpering, he produces the cutest, softest begging sound ever.  He sounds as if he’s been coached by a professional to elicit the most sympathy and pity from his humans. That sweet little sound, accompanied by his most wide-eyed, plaintive expression should win him an academy award nomination.  It does usually win him a baby carrot or a rawhide chip to gnaw on.  And because it works so well, he launches into that routine in a heartbeat.  He can even go from the savage bark to the piteous whine in an instant. Bravo, Elvis, Bravo!

Unlike the bark or the beg, his Kung Fu bit seems to be on certain occasions just for his own satisfaction.  I’m not sure what inspires it, but he can walk calmly into the den, stop and survey the territory, and then leap onto the sofa or loveseat and fully launch into his tumbling, twisting, tumultuous attack on the pillows. He first body slams himself into them and wallows recklessly against them.  Then he backs off panting before hurtling back into them for a somersault which often sends them flying. After a couple of these attacks, if any pillows remain, he head bumps them like a soccer pro until they sail onto the floor.  He will often end these martial arts moments lying on his back, and grinning his most satisfied upside down smile, which reminds me of a large-mouthed frog with teeth.  These particular moments with the pillows are probably for stress management, much like meditation, and he usually settles down to nap when he’s finished.  But he also uses the martial arts to conquer his stubborn humans when they refuse to obey his will.  He Kung Fu dances against me when I’m still lolling around in bed in the mornings and not hurrying to get him his breakfast.  Just this morning, I was petting him before getting up for my usual bathroom run.  I warned him as he pressed himself firmly against my full bladder not to cause me to have an accident.  No sooner had I said, “Careful, Elvis,” than he bombarded me with his very best rolling, spinning body slams, which are as much musical theater as they are martial arts.  He had me cackling with glee at his hilarious routine until he finally flung himself backwards across my body, panting with satisfaction and showing me that toothy frog grin.  He looked for all the world as if he was saying, “Now, I have you exactly where I want you.  You will bow down to the Kung Fu Master.”  Of course, I had to get up then because I needed the potty much more urgently than ever. 

I realize that Elvis’ performances are really not staged as much as they are just Elvis being Elvis, and that is why I appreciate him so much.  He may not heed Shakespeare’s advice about acting as he executes his exhibitions: “for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness.”  Instead, his renditions range from buffoonish to melodramatic, and he more often mimics those who Shakespeare so abhorred “who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumbshows and noise. . .” and who overact their parts as they” out-herod Herod.”  Elvis is not capable of taking acting instruction, though.  His personality comes to him naturally, and his performances reflect it.  While Kojak sits back calmly and observes, Elvis, just like Po the Kung Fu panda, exhorts, “Get ready to feel the thunda!”