I have seen a purple cauliflower and tomatoes the color of mud — products of scientific breeding. And I have seen unlikely dogs with descriptions such as cockapoo and cavapoo. Designed, I assume, for cuteness and docility.

(I have even seen a Labradoodle, but I am trying to forget it.)

Reflecting on all this, it slowly dawned on me that there is quite a bit of semi-intelligent design going on. So, I took myself to the laboratory of a friend who is a well-known mad scientist to ask some questions about this trend.

Q: Dogs, I said.

A: You know about some of the many poodle crosses, although perhaps you haven’t heard of the most recent, the chowchowapoopoo. Could be a bit of a marketing problem with that one. Any dog that would have been a mongrel 20 years ago can now be called a designer dog.

Q: But there’s more than dogs being tinkered with in your laboratory?

A: Most certainly. Vegetables are still the favourite subject. We are all hunting for the square tomato and are about ready to give up on the watermato.

Q: Watermato?

A: Indeed. A cross between a watermelon and a tomato. It seemed a good idea, but we got melons the size of cricket balls — only harder — and tomatoes so big that it took two people to eat a BLT sandwich. I think I could also report the banavocado as a failure. Which is why I prefer to work with animals.

Q: Dogs?

A: Mostly dogs, but you should know that we managed to cross a wolf with a rabbit. With two outcomes. One was a cute wolf with long, floppy ears and a fondness for lettuce. But the other was a pointy-eared rabbit with sharp buck teeth and a penchant for chasing squirrels and groundhogs. And you wouldn’t want to meet it on a dark night. We call it a wabbit.

Q: What else?

A: Our work with ducks and chickens has gone swimmingly. Back in our barn, we have some quite attractive dickens and also some chucks. The sad part is that if they get into the pond, they tend to sink. We hope to remedy that with some loon strain so we can have lickens and lucks. It does get complicated. But our snake work has gone well.

Q: Designer snakes?

A: It must be said that these are early days. Snakes are quite easy to work with, and we had no trouble crossing a rattlesnake with a water snake. We ended up with something we call a wattlesnake. It shakes its jowls when it gets angry.

Q: Can we get back to dog crosses?

A: Wouldn’t you like to hear of the work we’re doing with gnus and sheep? We call it gnus ewe.

Q: Dogs, please.

A: You really must allow me my little jokes. But on dogs, we crossed a Newfoundland with a Labrador. And guess what we got.

Q: A Newfoundor?

A: No, a Canadian province. I’m quite proud of that one. We also did some silly work, such as trying to get a husky/ chihuahua cross, which would give us something called a chusky — which couldn’t pull a sled worth a damn. And, purely in the spirit of humour, we thought of crossing a Nova Scotia duck tolling retriever with a Pekinese.

Q: To come up with?

A: What else? A Pekingduck. But I’m saving the best for the last.

Q: I hope so. What is it?

A: Perhaps our most notable success: we crossed a boxer with a short-haired pointer and came up with a spotted dog with a modest muzzle. But it is the name of which we are proudest.

Q: And that is?

A: Boxer shorts. We hope to sell them two at a time.

Q: You mean?

A: Exactly. Pairs of boxer shorts.

Q: Thank you. And goodbye. 

IE