What ... are you trying to give me a heart attack?

It's quiet around here ... and that's dangerous. What I mean by that is every now and then the simpleton owner gets in a mood and decides to ambush me by hiding around corners and jumping out to scare me. That fool forgets I'm ten years old (70 in dog years) and slightly overweight - my heart can't take this crap. The vet says I'm obese but I say big boned  - and one has to take that into account when trying to figure out body mass index. Besides, had they not fixed me when I was younger, I wouldn't even be having this slight weight problem. Anyway, the pinhead owner has already gotten me a few times tonight and it's getting old fast. Maybe this little game used to fly when I was younger but I'm a senior citizen now! How much longer does he think I can take this? For retaliation,  I should go and chew on one of his new loafers in the closet - that would change his mood. Or better yet,  I could break into the garbage, eat myself silly, and then make myself get ill all over the floor. This is brilliant because of his earlier idiocy, his wife will blame him for working me up and I'll get a free pass. Man I love being smarter than the owner. Ah ... Good times ... Good times!

Forget the Swine Flu - Spring Fever is all around.

All I've been seeing lately are nutty kids running the streets of Burbank all jacked up on Spring - at least we hope that is all they are on. They prance about - some holding hands, others jumping trash cans or having shopping cart races down the street. As their collective nuttiness rises, so too does the anxiety/stress levels of Police officers, store owners, and Teachers all across the land. I can see it first hand in the lead female here at home  - she is a Teacher. Her class was bad enough this past year before the kids contracted Spring Fever - now they are practically unbearable. Unfortunately, it sounds as if these kid's parents only view school as baby-sitting  so are unconcerned when their kids act up. Many did not even attend the school's open house night. This all makes for interesting theatre when she comes home and vents to the big goofball. It's about the only time I ever feel sorry for him. Thankfully, I'm sent outside. Our own kids are affected by this Spring Fever as well but the antidote of limiting freedom as crazy levels rise is still an effective treatment. I sure hope Summer arrives soon!

Tired of the construction...

What the hell is going on next door? I've completely worked myself up into a lather having to baby-sit all the construction crews at the neighbor's house over the past few months. I mean this is absolutely ridiculous! I'm beginning to think that we are living next-door to the Winchester Widow. The really weird thing is that even with all the construction, you really can't tell that anything is different. What are they doing with all the wood and materials that have been delivered? 

I'm thinking that maybe they're building some type of sophisticated crime fighting lair under her house - like Batman's. Who knows, maybe in a couple of months, a new crime fighter will arrive on the scene, dressed in a moo moo, with a jet powered walker and utility purse. She'll fight for noise ordinances in Los Angeles, work election polling stations, and greet people at the local markets - all before her bedtime at 6pm. Of course this could also just be the long awaited subway line connecting Burbank to downtown Los Angeles. I hope they put in parking because I don't want strange people leaving their cars in our driveway.

Anyway, if it hasn't been bad enough policing her normal yard workers - now I have to supervise these crews as well? And if I don't who will -the old lady herself? Doubtful - she's too busy hiring workers to enlarge the mansion. My owner? Please... he can't even spell supervise! Besides, what's the chances of anyone listening to, "Sir Doofulous" mouthing orders while wearing his plaid shorts, open toe sandals, and black socks. No, I believe this is all going to fall on me. And by the look of things, I have my work cut out for me. 

First of all those workers need to know that cats and other vermin are not allowed on that site. I don't care who owns the land - we just don't need any more degenerates in this neighborhood. Secondly, workers need to bring me sandwiches everyday - ones with good meats and cheeses - no bologna! And last but not least, construction will not occur between the hours of 9 AM - 6 PM or 10 PM - 6AM because I am napping and do not want to be disturbed. Well, that just about covers it. I guess I'll go out to set the ground rules. Well ... at least as soon as the goon opens the door to let me out. I'll have to go stand in front of the door until he notices me. Have a good day all!

Mother's day is around the corner...

Mother's Day is coming up but don't expect me to be involved in any canine matriarchal celebrations. Nope, like many out there I have issues with my Mother. In fact, I doubt that I'll be seeing that bitch anytime soon considering how she treated us. She was an absolute monster - if that is even a strong enough description for her! How else would you describe a female who gives away her kids and doesn't even attempt to take care of them? If I had any idea where to find her I might try to look her up to give her a piece of my mind, but as it stands, no one knows where she is or if she is even alive anymore. 

What I'll never forget is hanging out in a box with all my brothers and sisters - watching helplessly as each one was snatched up one by one. All the while - Mother did nothing to try and stop it! She just sat there and watched the various hands reach into and whisk away my siblings to destinations unknown. I implored her to do something but she just told me to hush ... that this is the way things are done. I was devastated by her callousness?

 The first to go was Nero - he was the largest of the litter. He shared my tan coloring, and black snout and ear markings. We were very much alike with the only difference in that he was twice my size. He was probably the most serious of the lot and being the first-born - we all looked to him for guidance. A rotund, red-faced human man with thick eyebrows and beady little eyes snatched him from us at around noontime on a Tuesday in July 1999. He wore a dirty pair of grey striped overalls that smelled of motor oil and kept an unlit cigar frozen in the corner of his mouth. All the while, he wiped an unending supply of sweat from his balding forehead. Nero tried his best to fend off  this beast-man but was simply unsuccessful due to the size difference. He kept trying to bite the human's hand and growled his fiercest puppy growl but this only appeared to give the dirt-hog some sort of sick pleasure. He laughed and said something about liking the fight in this dog as he carried Nero off. We never heard from him again. 

The next to go was my sister  Macey. She was darker in color - like my father. She too was large and playful but unlike the others, had patches on her sides. One even looked liked the shape of the state of Florida.  She was also different in that she really loved to sleep -  which she did almost all the time. I don't believe she even knew she was being taken for it happened as she was sleeping. Oh, we tried to wake her up but she was just too deep a sleeper. A young girl with pigtails who smiled while thanking her parents -gently plucked my sister and her blanket out of the box. She hugged Macey tightly to her chest from the moment she picked her up and all the way out the door. The last thing I heard her say was that Macey was going to be the best dog ever. Unfortunately, like Nero, I've never heard anything about her either but one can guess that wherever she is - she's probable sleeping. 

The next to last go was Comet - he was just plain crazy! He was always climbing over all of us in his quest to find interesting activities. He also kept us up late with his whimpering and box scratching for he was fixated on getting out of the box and exploring. He was taken by an older woman who looked him over skeptically for a few minutes before deciding that he was the one. She said there was something about his eyes that told her that he would be a good fit for her three cats. After he was taken - I was all-alone. People stopped coming by and after a few days, the humans who owned my Mother commented that they had tried their best... and what had to be done - had to be done. 

I was wrapped in a thick blanket and placed into a cage next to a tall, dark, ominous building. True to her past form, my Mother had done nothing as her humans whisked me off into the night. One of them might have had tears in her eyes as they placed me into the cage but I was so afraid of what was happening that I couldn't be too sure. I did know that I could smell and hear dogs and cats somewhere in the immediate area. That was one long and scary night for an abandoned puppy.

The next morning, I was discovered by a nice human female who got me out of the cage and looked me over. She took me into a Doctor who also looked me over and they both decided that I was physically alright. I was placed by myself for a few days in my pen for precautionary reasons but eventually was put into a pen with other small dogs. It is here where I first met the big goof-ball owner. He came lumbering in one day and reached down into our pen to pet us. I naturally wanted to play so I started jumping up and down and biting on his fingers. He apparently thought this was cute. He disappeared for a short time but then came back with the lady who had first discovered me. They took me from the pen and after a bit of paperwork, placed me into his car. In retrospect, had I known what was in store for me - I probably would have acted dead when he first came around.

Oh well, so now I'm with the village idiot and his family and I have only my Mother to thank. Had she tried to keep the family together - maybe things would have worked out better and I would not be stuck in this madhouse. Thanks a lot Mom! Oh, and don't expect a card this year.

You lousy swine!

I hate being so right all of the time. I'm always warning my readers about the dangers of human and animal interactions and now It's justified. This new swine flu that is all over the news is apparently the combination of swine, avian, and human flu viruses - all combined to create one scary, super flu bug. There are those of you misguided individuals who refused to understand my concerns. I was told to calm down... that I was overreacting. Well here it is people. The proof in the pudding my friends. One can now easily see all the despicable things that can occur once those little diseased mongrels are allowed in. And it won't stop there.

 I'm willing to bet that there are plenty of pigs out there right now as I write - watching ... and waiting for a chance to strike. Who knows, some of them may be disguised as dogs  - or maybe as humans walking dogs  - who are really pigs dressed in dog costumes themselves. Some might even try to throw you off by disguising themselves as other pigs - the non-swine variety. Well, don't let them fool you! Question every person, animal, plant, or rock that you may come in contact with over the next few weeks. I'm horrified thinking about all of the possible forms and/or disguises these swines might employ in order to gain our confidence and disrupt our good health. Who can we really trust anymore? Just this afternoon I found myself chastising a squirrel in the front yard lest he be a pig in disguise. None shall pass into the family yard as long as this State of Emergency exists, or while I'm on the job! Yes sir, we are going to be vermin free around here even if I have to check every big lumbering human or miniscule roly-poly. 

Unfortunately, I do not possess the ability to be everywhere at all time so my superior swine identification skills will be limited to the backyard. That ultimately means that I'll be worrying about the female owner and children at their respective schools for the next few weeks. I sure hope that they'll be able to identify any hog infiltrators in their mists. Maybe I'll run a clinic or something to bring them up to speed. I'll let you know how it goes. In the meantime: wash your hands, cover your mouths when you sneeze or cough, and for worry's sake, stay home if you or your loved ones are not feeling well. Remember that people have sick days for a reason so use them instead of spreading illness around the office or school. There is no shame or laziness involved in staying home to protect others from your illnesses. Keep safe out there - it's a madhouse!

Protesting change for change's sake!

I'm tired of constantly being disrespected. Last night I walked into the living room to hang with the family - who were relaxing and having a conversation about the kids or something. I decided to engage in what I call, "Happy Bone Time" where I take my bone and throw it up in the air and it lands on the hardwood floor. It is great fun and makes for much merriment! Usually the humans make comments on how cute I am and then give me vigorous rubs and loving attention. Shockingly - this time they just ignored me. Disappointed, I figured that they just might not have heard me so I decided to throw my bone higher and with more vigor. Unfortunately, the only response I received was from the big nincompoop who took my bone and placed it on the throw rug in the next room over. He then led me outside and patted me on the head as he sent me on my way. WHAT THE *#_@?! That's not the deal that was agreed upon. These people just can't take our normal routines and change them on a whim. There are certain expectations that need to be met! 

Devastated and embarrassed, their actions led me to do something that I've never done before - I refused to go on patrol last night in retaliation and protest. I'm sure all manner of vermin were walking thru the yard last night. Hopefully those lousy street possums were eating the female human's flowers! I may just keep this up until things start to change around here and I start receiving the attention and respect that I truly deserve. So far the owners are hanging tough - no noticeable reactions. In fact, they are continuing their normal routines as if nothing has happened. They also continue to give me pats and ear rubs. This would normally go over well with me but considering the circumstances... Anyway, I'm no fool - it will take more than these halfhearted interactions to make up for their recent inconsideration and disrespect. And where is my apology? Oh we'll see who can take this the longest. I'll keep you updated.

Can't sleep tonight...

I can't help it - watched a vampire movie with the owner tonight. The story took place in Alaska and they killed a lot of sled dogs in the beginning which totally freaked me out. I don't ever remember them killing dogs in the older vampire movies. Quite the contrary, they always employed them as hounds of hell - protectors of the coven - hell bent on vengeance against humans. That is the way it should be. I can identify with that. Don't need to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy those flicks. Unfortunately, they don't make them like they use to so now we all have to suffer with this modern day drivel. These kids just don't know anything about making movies these days. Could they at least do a little research for once?

The only good thing to come out of this whole movie night was that the owner and I are on good terms - for now. Mainly because he shared his popcorn with me. I really like popcorn but have a hard time when it gets stuck between my teeth and gums. I've been trying to get a piece out with my tongue for about half an hour now and still can't make any headway. Now that I think about it ... the owner may have planned this out to make my life a living hell... Nah, that would be giving him more mental credit than he deserves. I guess it's just not possible with his IQ of six. Not that he isn't sneaky from time to time. For instance, he knows that I can't resist peanut butter so he sedates me with it whenever company comes over by stuffing it into my chewy bone.  I then have no other choice but to try and extract every bit of that heavenly goodness - effectively distracting me from my most important job - crying and scratching on the bedroom door. Man I'm weak - I really disgust myself sometimes! I'm beginning to wonder if therapy is in order. I guess recognizing one has a problem is the first step  - right? Anyway, I'm going to try and catch up on some sleep. Have a good morning people!

Way to ruin the moment - idiot!

Wow, the owner almost blew my mind this morning! I was outside with him on morning patrol when he picked up a ball and threw it somewhere behind my back. When I turned to see where the ball had went, it was magically gone. Then when I turned back around, the owner was standing there with a big grin on his face holding the same ball! I was amazed. "No way!" I thought but then he did it again.... and again ... and again. I was mesmerized by this display of showmanship and found myself turning round and round trying to figure out how he did it. Of course like always, he had to go and ruin everything by opening his big, fat, disrespectful mouth. Just as I was beginning to think that he might not be that bad after all, he says, "Stupid dog" and walks back into the house. No wonder I cant stand the guy. What kind of abuser do I work for here? He takes a wondrous moment for me and ruins it by questioning my intelligence. Unfortunately for me, I just can't get over this. HOW DID HE DO IT?! I've decided to set up a camera to get to the bottom of this. I can run some wires and a monitor  from the garage to my dirt hole and set up the camera on the patio. When he comes out later, I'll carry the ball over and he will no doubt do his little trick again. Then I'll know how he does it and throw it back in his face. We'll see who the stupid one is then. Ok, I'm off to set up. Have a good day all!

I don't need a stinking bath!

The nerve of that big idiot! I tell you - his gall knows no limit! Can you believe that he actually  told me this morning that I'm getting a bath today because I stink? Me...stink?! I don't stink .... HE STINKS! I smell fresh and natural .. like the soils of the earth. He on the other hand, smells like that malodorous soap that most humans use. That is with the exception of his feet, which I must admit to being quite partial to. But I digress. Say, who defines society's standard of what smells good anyway Humans? Why should they decide? They don't even have half the sense of smell we dogs have. And why should we conform to the human standard anyway? It's simple, we have the  better sense so we should be the ones who decide. 

Unfortunately, that dreaded time is drawing near. Soon he will  come and grab me with those clumsy meat mitts of his and rough me up in that tub in the back yard. I tell you, there is just no civility in the man. He is a complete and utter Neanderthal! How dare he treat a lady in such a manner! I don't see him grab the human female of the house like that. He sure doesn't - and with good reason. She sure would show him where to get off if he tried a maneuver like that on her. She would brain that mental midget! Maybe if I make enough noise -animal services will show up and take care of the big goon. 

He should at least allow me the decency of washing inside like the rest of the family. But no, I wash outside because he say my fur clogs the drain. Didn't this guy ever hear of drain screens? I tell you what - I'm going to shake every time he soaks me and make sure he is taking a bath as well. That's right - I'll show him who's boss. And as soon as all this is done, I'm heading straight for my dirt hole to lie down. Let him come into the bush if he doesn't like it. Really, I just don't know how much more of this man I can take. He's going to have me drinking early this morning for sure. Oh well, you all have a great day! I have to go. I hear his lumbering  - it must be that time.

I refuse to go out today!

I can feel the heat coming on already! It is supposed to be near the century mark here today in Burbank, CA. That kind of heat is stifling when you are wearing a fur coat all day. Sometimes I wish that they would just shear off all my fur but it really wouldn't be a good thing with my fair skin. I get it from my Mother - she was a pure cream colored Chow. My Dad, on the other hand, was pure German Shepherd with a dark coat. Anyway, I was out this morning and the temperature was already in the mid seventies. I did my business and came right back into the house. I'm sorry but the dirt hole will just not do today. The misfit owner will be running errands today which gives me full run of the house. I've decided to make some refreshing beverages to keep me cool. We have some vodka in the freezer so I'll start there. Stay cool!

What a nightmare!!

I had the worst nightmare ever last night! I woke up lying in front of the living room wall but I had fallen asleep in the bedroom hallway. Apparently, it is possible to run in one's sleep. I have heard of sleep walking before but never sleep running. I guess you can add me onto the list. If I had to guess, I would say that the nitwit owner had something to do with all of this but cant prove it at the moment. Ok, here is my dream. 

It started off beautifully enough - a flowery meadow  in a valley, surrounded by mountains made from kibbles with a beef gravy stream running thru the center. All about the meadow was a healthy supply of pig's ears and snausages sporadically placed. It sure was heavenly - I was even able to fly! Anyway, I was rolling in the sun and had just eaten about fifty pounds of snausages when all of a sudden I heard the owner's diabolical laughter off in the distance.

 At first I  tried to ignore it - hoping that it would just go away but it got closer and stronger. Looking around,  I spotted the most horrendous thing coming over the highest of the kibble mountains - a giant newspaper. I stood speechless but felt myself shaking in terror. A whimper was all I could muster as it approached closer and closer. A large shadow  of the newspaper enveloped me as it blocked out the sun.  I could feel the hairs of my neck stand up and my tail curl under.  As I stood frozen, the front end of the newspaper rose high in the air and then stopped for about a second. It then came racing down towards me with every intention of swatting me like a bug. I turned around to run away but  a fence had magically appeared  to block my way. I turned around again and was dumbfounded to find the big baboon owner blocking my path - dressed in an Animal Control uniform and armed with a net. He was laughing hysterically as he swung the net back and forth. I felt the air pressure of the  paper coming down hard and decided to make a break around the moron to escape. I juked left but broke right and barely avoided the control net and paper as they crashed to the ground behind me. I needed to get away fast so I tried to use my flight ability. Unfortunately, I could only get a few inches off the ground before tumbling back down to the ground. I would have to run. 

My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to run as fast as I could. My muscles were straining  but I was unable to go any faster than a walking pace. Turning to see where the paper was, I noticed it right above me, lifting again for the final swat. The owner's laughter was also getting closer and louder. I tried running harder but still could not put any distance between me and the paper or laughter. The shadow covered everything around me as I braced myself for the impact. I felt the paper strike and it stopped me right in my tracks.

 If not for the pain in my head - I would have thought I was dead. It took a few moments to shake the cobwebs loose and for my vision to clear but when it did, I could not see my meadow or mountains. Instead I found myself lying in front of the living room wall by the front door. I realized that I had been dreaming but how did I get in the living room when I had remembered falling asleep in the bedroom hallway? I got up gingerly and noticed that there was a candleholder knocked over by the bedroom hallway entrance. I must have knocked it over in my mad dash. 

As I contemplated all this, a light came on and the Village Idiot came out of the bedroom in his tee shirt and boxer shorts. His moron eyes must have had a hard time adjusting because he kept rubbing them as he asked, "What's going on out here?" He looked around and then picked up the candle and holder and set them back up on the floor by the hallway. Scratching his rear, he walked back into the bedroom and bellowed, "Be more careful!" He also had the audacity to say, "idiot dog." under his breath. How dare he!

Seething, I tried unsuccessfully to fall back asleep.  Even after I calmed myself down from his insensitive words, I could not fall back asleep. Every time I got close, I would experience a falling sensation that would wake me back up. Man I have issues! Oh well, I'm tired and need to try and catch up on some sleep. Have a happy Monday all!

Friday is party time!

Today is going to be a absolutely beautiful day here in Burbank! The weather service predicts a temperature around eighty degrees with sunshine. I've decided to enjoy the sun and warmth to the max today and have already ignored a few of the big dummy's requests to come back inside. I love it when his eye twitches as I ignore him. Anyway, it will be a magnificent time with sunning, relaxing, and rolling in the grass! This truly is the best time of year - not too hot or cold. I've set myself up in the middle of the yard complete with all the necessities: blanket, music, and an unlimited supply of cold beverages as I declare today, "SunFest 2009". Feel free to stop by and join me but please refrain from bringing any other animals (except the party variety) because I always lose control and wind up as, "Persona non grata" at my own parties. Don't worry about the block-head inside, just come in through the gate on the side of the house.  Of course if he does see you - I don't know about any of this. Enjoy the start of the weekend!

Man, was it worth it!

I got myself in a bit of trouble with the owners last night. It appears that snatching a plateful of lasagna is not looked upon highly in my household. This is not something new for me - I've gotten myself in trouble with food plenty of times. I just can't help myself. Let me tell you about last night. The bulk of the family had just finished their meal and the only one left was the eight year old - which is the norm around here. Because of my past transgressions, I am always placed outside until the meal is over. Well, the eldest boy finished his meal first and then was excused  to go outside and work on his baseball swing. Now, whenever I know there are people eating inside, I try to perch myself at the backdoor. That way, I am able to take full advantage of any slip- ups, which thankfully was the case this time. The boy came out fumbling with his equipment, which enabled me to slip by as he struggled to avoid dropping anything. By this time, the big cretin and his wife had finished their meals and started to clean up the kitchen. That left the youngest boy at the dinner table. He had not eaten much despite the various pleadings of his parents. My keen dog hearing picked up that he had been particularly excited about the activities from school that day. This led him to spend most of the meal relating his experiences. Sneaking into the dinning room, I first noticed pieces of biscuit crumbs lying on the wood floor, mainly by the little one's feet. I decided to act like a Hoover and make quick work of this fortunate mess. As I was extracting every last miniscule morsel of Pillsbury goodness off of the floor, I heard the little one call out that he was going to use the bathroom. I waited a few seconds and then came out from under the table to investigate. I was initially expecting to find a small portion of whatever they were having, but instead found almost a full portion of wonderful lasagna on the boy's plate! Knowing that I had limited time, I decided to quickly gorge myself before any discovery ruined my chance. Just as I was about to finish cleaning the plate to a bright, white, luminous sheen, there was a high pitched scream that no doubt shook the windows of the house. "Hey, that's mine!" was what I heard as my tongue finished its last caress of the smooth, white, melamine plate. Almost immediately afterwards, I heard the rumble of the quick moving, "Union Pacific Pinhead " as it barreled in from the kitchen with wife in tow. I was quickly snatched by the collar and roughly hustled to the backdoor like a homeless person trying to attend the Governor's Black and White Ball. He even had the nerve to administer a stinging smack to my derriere as he forced me thru the door. "How rude!" I thought and, "How dare he touch me with his dirty meat mitts!" I fumed as I scurried for the safety of my dog hole behind the hibiscus bush . Lying safely in my underground fortress, I could hear the big goon questioning his older son about who had let the dog in. The reply was a weak, "I didn't do anything", then a slam of the door. The matter was finished and I was once again - victorious!  Pleased with myself, I decided to move over to the grass to digest the wonderful meal I had just wrangled for myself. My joy was heightened by the discovery of tasty spaghetti sauce caked upon the sides of my snout and whiskers during my haste. Yes, I had gotten my way again. Score one point for the dog and zero for Team Doofus. I hope to get inside again tonight. I hear they are ordering Chinese take-out.    

Woke up on the wrong side of the rug.

I'm not in a good mood this morning. No particular reason other than just being edgy. Nobody better mess with me today because they may become the unhappy recipients of a warning snarl. It's surprising I'm this grouchy because I've already had two drinks of water. I'm usually ill tempered until I've at least had my first drink of water but I guess we can throw all the rules out this morning.

 This black mood of mine is probably the result of the block headed owner again- big surprise there huh? Can you believe that imbecile came home last night from running errands and had the smell of another dog on him. Not just any dog but a Basset hound! Those squat little varmints are teaming with germs. I'm still stunned. What the heck was he thinking? What if it had some kind of disease like kennel cough, heartworm, or even rabies? He'd bring it home and give it to the whole family! Part of the reason why I patrol the grounds is to prevent things like that from happening and once again the boob saunters about all willy-nilly - not a care in the world. I'm beyond rage at this moment. I'm to the point where I don't even care anymore. Why should I? He's always doing things like that:  saying hello to other animals on our walks, feeding squirrels at the park, or just petting that lousy flea bitten cat down the street. Like I can't see thru the fence! Never any thoughts about safety. I guess he'll  just keep touching that hot plate time after time until he gets burnt. Wow, ignorance must be bliss! I guess I need to focus on my stuff before I have a nervous breakdown.

Thank God there was nothing unusual to report about last night's patrol. I did see some roof rats walking across the power lines. They don't usually bother me - they keep to themselves. The ones that have been getting my goat lately are the flock of green parrots that have been perching themselves on the power lines in the backyard by the kumquat tree. They sit on those lines squawking down all manner of rude things. Luckily I can only make out about half of what they are saying because of their thick accents -they're not native to the region you know. Anyway, not only am I tired of their ruckus, but their clamoring always brings out the big nincompoop who then asks me why I'm not chasing them away. Hello - I can't fly! I'm telling you, if I had my own gas chamber  I'd use it on that fool - or myself to get away. Oh well, I'm going to try and will myself into a better mood. Some nice quiet meditation might help. Have a good day all.

Can you dig it!

It's getting warmer here in Burbank - warm enough to justify digging. What I mean by that is that as the temperature goes up - there is an equal and opposite reaction from us dogs to dig deeper into the soil to escape the stifling heat. I have the perfect spot behind the hibiscus bush that I've been working on the last few weeks. It is almost deep enough to hide me as I lie in it. It also adds entertainment when the moron owner comes out looking for me and thinks that I've escaped. I watch him walk from one gate to the next looking to see if any are open. All the while he is calling out my name like the town crier -  what an absolute fool! Sometimes I'm ashamed to even be seen with him. He thinks that my persistent pulling while we take walks is because I want to check out animals, trees, and such but the real reason is that I don't want to be seen with him. I'm hoping that people just think that we are just walking in the same direction or something. Don't think me harsh - you have to see this guy to understand.  Image a big dopey guy who dresses like a european tourist - complete with black socks and sandals. I know the guy all my life and still laugh every morning when he emerges from the bedroom. Just can't imagine what the female sees in that simpleton. Oh well - I'm off to the dig. Maybe I'll find a bone, old shoe, Jimmy Hoffa, or something else interesting. Have a happy day people!

I remember freedom.

Funny, I'm feeling completely stressed out lately. I think it has something to do with the idiot owner still  hanging around all day unable to find any meaningful employment. While I'm outside patrolling the grounds he is watching me. No doubt making some kind of uninformed judgement about my performance. Man I hate when people look over my shoulder as I work. Maybe I should walk off the job to send a message. I did it once before years ago when the gardeners left the gate open after cutting the lawn. I can recall the pure glee that I experienced bounding out that gate into the uncharted free world. The air was immediately fresher. The breeze - cool as fresh ocean air rolling in during an evening cool down.  My snout was experiencing fragrances sharp as those given off after a Summer's rainstorm. I felt alive! Just as I got out I noticed a possum that had been taunting me for over a year in the neighbor's front yard across the street. Man, everything appeared to be coming together. I made my plan to mimic the big cats of the Serengeti that I had witnessed while the big Duffus was watching his learning shows - not that they would ever help him. Anyway, as I started my slow approach across the street to administer  a sweet, long sought after dose of justice,  some sort of monster with two bright glowing eyes as bright as the sun came barreling towards me. It had to have been about nine feet in height and seven to eight feet wide. Wow those bright devil eyes were mesmerizing! I was frozen by them. I braced for the impact but just as I was about to be run over there was this blaring noise accompanied by a high pitched prolonged squeal with bursts of what sounded like hissing. I closed my eyes but when I reopened them I found out that I had not been trampled. I was shaking - took a few seconds to compose myself. When I did get back onto the pavement, there where two old human ladies waiting to grab me by the collar. I fought to break loose but their human hands with opposable thumbs (damn opposable thumbs!) were too much for me. After a few overzealous pats to my head, they inspected my tags to find my address. Unfortunately for me, those two meddling biddies decided to take me back to the house, put me in the yard and shut the gate. I think I heard that damn possum laughing as they escorted me back. Just when I'd thought it was all over, I heard those old hags go to the front door. They ratted me out to the owner and  also read him the riot act about the responsibilities of dog ownership. I'm sure he just stood there dumbfounded as usual - blank stare - trying to figure out what they were telling him. I heard him say that his dog was in the yard to which the old ladies said that they had just put me back inside the gate. He eventually thanked them and then came outside to inspect the gate and give me the ole stink eye. Well that was the end of it - I was back safe and sound and the village idiot quickly got over being upset with me. Not long after that we moved to a side street with less traffic. I often wonder what happened to that monster that passed by that night and why it had decided to spare me. From time to time I have heard it's monstrous shrieking off in the distance but for some reason it doesn't appear to ever come down our street. Maybe it was afraid of me? I may have more power than I think. Maybe it doesn't dare to come down my street because it knows I am here. I guess there is one way to find out. I should try to get out and confront the monster again. Of course I may be wrong and then what? Also, the gardeners are not working for us anymore and the nit-witted owner checks the latch on the gate all the time. Just my luck - not bright enough to find a job but smart enough to keep me locked in. It sure is thick my friends ... it sure is thick! Have a good day!

Friday again...

I'm looking forward to the weekend since the small human boy will be having an egg hunt party this weekend. The only bad thing for me is that I'm going to be put into the bedroom for the event. No fear though since I know that after the party is over, I will be let out to help clean up all the spilt beverages and dropped food items that will be littering the back yard. I will feast on all manner of corn chips, cookies, pretzels and whatever else the Mother human elects to buy for the kids. I have to move quickly though to eat as much as I can before the hose comes out for the final touch up. I would like to partake in all the play but I tend to get a bit too strong with the little ones - knocking them over from time to time. Nothing malicious mind you - I just get a  bit carried away. Oh well, that's the life of a 95 pound dog I guess. Have a good weekend!

From the jaws of defeat....

Almost had a disappointing start to my day but thankfully it all ended in sweet victory. What happened? I'll tell you.  Every morning I start my day in the usual way - walk into the owner's bedroom to help wake the sloth and also inform him that I must go out. Once I'm out, I do my business, patrol the grounds for infiltrators, and then endure the hour long wait for the delivery of household kids to destinations unknown.  All I do know is that it must be a place where they require combed hair and backpacks stuffed with heavy things. Anyway, when the Owner returns from this delivery, he cleans the breakfast table and ... here is the good part - puts the remaining scraps of morning glory into my bowl!!! I so look forward to coming back into the house every morning to the plethora of leftover breakfast items awaiting my ravenous appetite. Unfortunately, this morning my bowl stood empty! Shocked, I thought the owner had forgotten to clean the table but under further inspection I found that the table was indeed clean! What gives? I thought as I walked around the kitchen checking all the corners of the floor hoping that there might be a paper plate or something with a bit of eggs, bacon, poptart or toast.  Instead, I found nothing! I walked up to the owner and I just stood in front of him. After a few moments he realized what I was up to and brushed me off with, "Sorry, the kids ate everything today." statement. I wondered what he would do if when he went into his beloved, " Starbucks" they gave him the same brush off. "Sorry, everyone drank all the coffee today." He would flip out! Probably threaten to write letters to Starbuck's corporate offices or the State Attorney General. If that did not get the reaction he wanted he might pull out the big guns  -threatening to never step foot in the establishment again and on, and on, and on. Yeah, I know - what a jerk! Try living with the man sometime. You would know all this too if you'd ever seen the little hot head in action with the gas, phone, and cable companies. You really do not want to disappoint the guy - especially when you need to be getting somewhere.  Anyway, not wanting the morning to be a total loss, I hunkered down in front of him, to demand what was owed me. He tried a few times to shoo me away but I kept up my persistence. Eventually, he caved saying, "Alright, alright, alright... let me find you something so you'll leave me alone. He reached into the cupboard and extracted a package of pure unadulterated tastiness  - bacon flavored snausage treats!!!! I was beside myself as I turned round and round in circles. I was distracted for just a split second by the sight of one of my most hated nemesis, " The Floating Tail". My first thought was to attack, but I quickly regained my focus and halted myself to receive my share of the food of the Gods! I decided that the Floating Tail battle would have to wait for another time. This was just too important a snack to give up. Gorging myself, I couldn't help but think how what had started off in disappointment quickly turned into one of my more glorious victories! Ah yes, life is good today. Life is indeed good! Watch out Floating Tail, I'm gunning for you!

Tuesday in Burbank

Not much to report today. Owner was outside most of the morning into early afternoon taking care of the lawn. That means I had to stay inside since I'm not the kind of dog who stays in the yard. I'm the one you see running down the street making my owner come get me. I figure that if I get a chance to get out - I'm going for the gusto! 

Well the family is home again...

Must have been nice to get away for a few days. I wouldn't know since I was left behind. No dogs allowed in their hotel room my foot! What a weak explanation for abandoning me while they were out having a good time. I did rip up some  newspapers which made me feel better for a short while. Then I remembered that they sometimes bring me treats from the road such as left over food so I quickly cleaned up my mess. Luckily for me, they had a leftover cheeseburger  which I gladly devoured after the obligatory welcome home dance. I  mainly do it for their benefit since they appear to enjoy that kind of thing. I myself can take it or leave it. As long as I have food in the bowl it doesn't matter which of the meat bags are filing it. Speaking of which, the kid who watched me over the weekend turned out to be alright after all. He game me the correct portion of food that I'm accustomed to and also threw my ball a few times as well. This doesn't make up for the fact that I couldn't go along for the trip. Man I love a car ride! One has not experienced life until one hangs his or her head out of a moving car! Cool air gushing into and blinding the eyes while sweet, warm scents flood the nose. Not to mention the wind vigorously pushing the hairs back across the face - which is one of the only times a dog isn't eating his own hair. Ah yes, a million different types of stimuli being corralled into the starving senses in a mad rush of excitement. Glorious I tell you! One can experience all manner of smells on a single car ride:  the sticky-sweet smells of ice cream and soda, fresh, tart apples, tangy oranges, and sour lemons  - all ripe on the trees - aromatic rose and fresh jasmine bushes bathed in sunlight - the fine scents of fresh newspapers on the area lawns (both wet from the sprinklers and the plastic wrapped dry ones)  - addictive vapors of gasoline and subsequent exhaust fumes emanating from the cars on the roads - and lastly, other animal's pungently appealing juicy droppings and animal farts - why else would we sniff each other's butts. Ah, the cavalcade of smells and external stimuli just makes me swoon thinking about them. All these golden experiences robbed from me with one denied car trip! I think I'm getting depressed again. I guess to make myself feel better I'll do what I do whenever I get like this - go into the back yard and soak up the sun remembering that while I do so, the rest of the household is at school or work. I suggest you join me. It's a wonderfully warm and sunny day here in Burbank, CA with many smells in the air. Enjoy!

Home alone... what the?

Well, here I am again- home alone. They didn't even have the decency to ship me off to the kennel. I mean really... would it have killed them to spend the twenty-five bucks to keep me happy? No... instead they pay some nutty kid a few bucks to feed me and let me out a few times a day. I won't even get a walk out of the deal! I know - I've been down this road before. I'm so ticked off I'm thinking of letting loose on the floor. I'm sure the kid won't believe it worthwhile to clean it up and then the owners might think twice about being cheap again. I'm going to go and rip the newspapers up right now - maybe it will make me feel better. 

What am I doing...

Sometimes I feel that life is just passing me by. It seems just like yesterday that I was a spry young pup without a care in the world. I had friends, enjoyed obedience school, and generally looked forward to what life had in store for me. Then, before you can say, "Kibbles and bits" I'm a senior citizen, stuck in a dead end job with an employer that I don't care much for. Retirement? Highly unlikely  since I have not heard any word of them bringing on any more help around here. I guess their plan is to work me until the day I die. I should have organized years ago when the hamster and fish were around. We had power in numbers back then. We might have made a difference.  No wonder I'm depressed  with all the past opportunities I've missed. To be fair to my owners, my inability to coexist with other dogs may have something to do with their employment decisions but I'm certainly not going to blame myself. Add in my hip problems and failing eyesight and it's enough to make you want to stay on the rug all day.

 I'm starting to struggle with my job. The other day I was on patrol when I saw one of those no good, black and white cats (why are all animals black and white?) strutting in front of the house like it was a Saturday night or something. The arrogance - I just lost it! I went into full on tunnel vision mode. That's when I really can't focus on anything else but taking down the vermin in front of me.  Wow, I'm getting a rush just thinking about it!  Anyway, this flea bitten mongrel is strutting it's stuff and I start my tirade with my best ferocious snarl and then work my way into what I like to call my, "constant bark". That is where I'm barking and you would swear that I'm not even breathing since one bark follows another in quick succession like that of a Gatling gun. Back in the day, it used to send interlopers scurrying but much to my amazement, the  lousy cat just ignored me! At first I thought there was something wrong - like it was deaf or, "special" but then I heard the little stain of the animal world say something to a crow on a branch above about it being a nice day. I was completely and utterly crushed! I went and planted myself behind the hibiscus bush and spent the rest of the day mulling over my life and generally feeling sorry for myself. 

Where did it all go wrong? I think it may have started when they took me away to have me fixed. I've had problems enjoying life since then - and gained a lot of weight which they said would happen.

 It also doesn't help that my life is on display twenty four - seven.  Man, could the owners at least build some kind of screen in the backyard so I could have some privacy when I squat for once! Out of all things - I think that is what bothers me most! Humans act like it's some kind of movie or something. Then they run and get the shovel and throw it in a bin - what are they saving it for? You'd think it was gold or something. I know they don't appreciate their privacy being invaded. On a few occasions I've walked in and just stared at them while they where on their white seats. Now, what was that phrase the owner said that one time? Oh yes, that I was giving him the creeps. Well turn about is fair play is what I told him as I exited. Of course, like always, he just let me walk out without any comment. Sometimes I think he doesn't understand me. Every now and then he seems to show some intelligence when I say something to him but mostly he either ignores me or responds with some stupid question about  Timmy being down a well.  Who the heck is Timmy and why is he fixated on whether this kid is down a well? He also asks his dumb question with the same stupid grin on his face which makes me angrier yet. I really need to get away.

I'm ten now. Probably have another four to five years  - if I'm lucky. Maybe I should move to Miami  so I can enjoy the remainder of my time. Just check out and enjoy myself. I could take up painting. Probably not though since the lack of opposable thumbs make us dogs poor artists. The idea is a nice one though. I'll have to give it more thought. Have a good weekend! 

My owner says no more Ford cars...

I believe the big dope had a bad day at the Ford dealership in North Hollywood today. He came home in a huff. I'm not sure what happened, only that he had left early this morning for a nine o'clock appointment but did not get back until five in the afternoon. Boy was he mad! He said that they originally stated that the work would be finished sometime around noon so he decided to stick around to avoid having to find a ride back to the dealership if he went home. In his mind, three hours was not too bad. Unfortunately, when he checked back at 12:30 he was told that the guy working on the car was nowhere to be found. Additionally, the service advisor admitted that the work had not even been started. This was after he was told at 10:30 am that they had started working on the car.  The problem was pretty simple  - some burnt out bulbs in the rear of the vehicle and also a warning light pertaining to the airbugs or something.

The main problem was that his 2005 Mustang convertible has been out of warranty due to time limits since August 2008. The owner was not concerned though because his car had not even come close to the 30,000 mile limit. He is currently at 13,680 miles. He says the milage is awfully low to be having  these types of minor problems. He had similar problems years before with his Honda CRV but Honda honored their warranty even though his years had expired because, like in this case, he still had low mileage on the car. The family traditionally keeps the milage low. Anyway, I'm  guessing that this type of attitude is probably why Ford is in trouble during this downturn and Honda is not. There is something to be said about customer service. The owner stated that when the dealership held fast to the three year limit  he called the national Ford customer service help line. Unfortunately, all they could do was take a report - nothing else! A customer service department that only take reports? What for?! Anyway, he wound up paying for the light bulbs because he figured common sense would eventually win out and the dealership or Ford Customer service would reimburse him. It's only good business to take care of a small bill after the customer has dropped upwards of 31,000 on a car in the last three years. Unfortunately once again - that did not turn out to be the case. 

Overall, the owner does not mind too much since he says it is his price to pay to get out of a bad relationship. He even stated that he was relieved he would never have to pay that dealership ever again. Additionally, he is not planning to buy any more Ford products as well. I wouldn't put it past him to sell the car in the near future so as to get rid of it before it costs him any more money.

 The final insult was discovered tonight when he took the older son to baseball practice and they discovered that the mechanics had reinstalled the passenger seat incorrectly. Now the seat belt receptacle will not easily receive the holding clip. The poor dolt will have to return again to the dealership so they can fix their mistake. He says he would rather bathe in hot oil. 

Oh well, I hung out and slept most of the day. No intruders except for the little guy with blue shorts and leather pouch who stuffs papers thru the mail slot. Man I hate that guy!!! I'm going to go now and have a few biscuits that the owner placed in my bowl. Hey, maybe he isn't that mad after all. Good night!