Addiction...

Hello, my name is Haley and I am a meat-oholic. I've been an addict for about nine years now and have put my family through absolute hell. I have no other excuses for all the unsavory things I've done to satisfy my insatiable cravings other than illness. Everyday I struggle to just make it through the day and I've come to the decision that in order to free my conscious from the demons that haunt me - I must  make a confession.  

Some things I'm deeply ashamed of are; posing as a Seeing Eye dog to gain access to a butcher's store, countless attempts to steal steaks off of family member's plates, and lastly, a long history of incessant begging to anyone with even a small scent of meat product on their person. I even knocked a small child down once at a picnic in order to grab a loosely held hot dog. Ashamed? You bet - but I assure you that I am not a bad dog - just a dog with a problem.  

 

Saturdays are the hardest day of the week for me to endure because it's when the local Handy Market grills up all their scrumptious foods for the public. The smoky scents that fill the surrounding streets can only be described as magically mouth-watering. It is not an unusual sight to witness one car after another rolling down its windows while passing in order to give its occupants a nostril full of intoxicatingly smoky grilled Godliness. Tragically for me, I have the dog's keen sense of smell so escape is futile. Believe me I've tried. I've spent most of the day with my head in a dirt hole in order to escape but that haunting smell is still banging around inside my skull taunting me to action.

You know what - I take everything back. Forget everything I just stated - I don't have a problem after all. Yeah, I'm good - really! I now plead to anyone out there online today  - please bring me a tri-tip sandwich, BBQ pork ribs, or chicken! Toss whatever you obtain over my fence so that I may partake of my one true love. Man, at this point I'll eat the whole package including the sweet white paper wrapper! In return I'll... er... be your best friend! Whatever you do - don't come to the front door because I'll deny any knowledge of anything. Ok, I'll be waiting - thanks!

Smart Dog

I was thinking once again about getting out of the security game and doing something new. Let's face it - I haven't made much money doing this job and realistically, how much time do I really have left? With that in mind, I decided to look into returning to school. Unfortunately, it didn't go as well as I had hoped. I went down to the UCLA campus this morning and tried to do a walk in appointment with a counselor. Unfortunately, the security guards freaked out when they saw  me and then chased me from the building.  Undaunted, but knowing that I couldn't enter the building, I decided to try and  call to make an appointment with a counselor but that didn't work either - the idiot couldn't understand me. He kept asking me to repeat my name - thought I was saying Ralph. Eventually I decided to give up and leave for home - but not until after I had scored a sweet hat from some twerp who was sleeping on the grass by the library. Yes, I know it was wrong but so too was kicking me out. Score one for the dog! Have a good weekend folks!

Spelling bees?

So I tuned into this show on television which keeps billing itself as a contest for bees to spell words. I've been watching  most of the morning and have yet to see one damn bee! Instead, all I'm seeing are human kids asking dumb questions about certain words such as what is the origin or if there are any other ways of saying them. Then they try to spell them and stand there looking down at their shoes- shocked when they find out they are wrong. What the heck happened to the bees? That was the reason I tuned in in the first place! I thought it would make for some compelling TV. 

I hear those little bee bastards all the time as they're flying around the yard. I must say that they're really not that deep. All they do is fly around repeating the same phrases over and over and over again, "Must gather pollen." and, "Time to make the honey - the honey."  It's all very annoying. That is why I tuned in - I thought it would be interesting to finally hear them say something else for a change. Instead I get these kids freaking out on television! I guess I'm going to have to try and have my own spelling bee for bees then. I'm heading outside right now to see if I can stop one or two of those little twerps long enough to spell some words. Then I'll arrange for a true spelling bee. The prize will be the pleasure of stinging my idiot owner when I bring him out later in the afternoon to play ball. This is going to be great. I'll let you know how it turns out. Have a good day folks!

What's going on across the street?

In my role as security expert here on the compound, I am expected to keep a vigilant eye out for suspicious events going on around our neighborhood. Of course whether anyone listens to me is an entirely different matter. For example, I was the only one who knew  what was going on the night our house was being TP'd by kids. Unfortunately, my efforts to inform the family went ignored. I was also the only one who heard funny sounds from next door the night the Winchester Widow's home was being burglarized. Of course - once again the idiot owner  didn't listen to me and just stayed in bed. So tonight I'm sitting her wondering why I have been ignored and what I need to do to get some action around here.

I'm thinking that maybe its a volume problem. Maybe I just need to elevate my call to arms with more gusto. Hold on - I think I hear a cat outside. This may be a good time to try something new- it's about 12:30 am and everyone  is in bed. Let me sound the alarm and I'll report back. Hold on...

Ok, that didn't work - raising the volume didn't get anyone to respond. All I got was a stern warning to keep quiet from the big ninny. But wait... I'm hearing the neighbor from down the street walking Snickers the Labradoodle in front of our home again. The owner should be concerned with this - shouldn't he? I'll sound the alarm and see if anyone stirs this time.

Hold on... I'll be right back

Ok, nobody seems to care about the Labradoodle. Apparently the owner is too tired to come out of the bedroom and investigate but he did manage to throw a house slipper in my direction this time. I think  that maybe we're making some progress here. Maybe the key is persistence - yeah, persistence makes things happen. Oh -oh... I  think I hear Buford the possum in front of the house. The owner should really be concerned because I think that lousy possum is the one eating his wife's flowers.  I'll sound the alarm once more to see if the big dummy will come to help defend the homestead. hold on...  I'll report right back...

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile - 

Ok, change of plans. I'm now talking to you from my training crate here in the laundry area. The good news is that my barking got a response. The bad news...  Anyway, from my crate I can clearly see the neighbor's house across the street. It appears that a large truck has pulled up in front and a whole bunch of guys have gotten out to apparently help move all of the neighbor's furniture from the house into the truck. Funny, I didn't even know he was looking to move. Boy it sure is refreshing to see people helping each other out  - especially at this late hour. This guy must really have some great friends who...  Oh ...  ah... never mind. Ok, I'm going to get myself to sleep now. Good night everyone!

Don't be lemmings

Not sure what all the hubbub was all about but the goof-ball owner made a big deal of displaying our flag all day Monday. Surprisingly, the neighbors followed his lead by first putting up their own flags and then later by adopting his sloth like way by taking the day off. I'm guessing that laziness must be in vogue these days. Well, there goes the neighborhood! Before you know it, the whole block will be stacked three deep with unemployed bumpkins watching Judge Judy, yelling out windows to devil children, and stuffing their faces full of Funyons.  All the while, their lawns will grow unchecked, their clothes will hang in state on front porch wash-lines, and their burnt out Christmas lawn decorations will become unrecognizable from an eternal sun bleaching process. Boy, I just can't wait!

I'm wondering also about the other habits these fools might adopt from my idiot owner. They can start by copying his distinguished look which matches one tight tee shirt with an overly baggy pair of pants. Do keep in mind that the pants need to be worn high over the stomach - around chest height. Ideally - we are trying to achieve the illusion of a walking pear. Oh and don't forget to complete the look by adding black colored socks and open toed sandals. Now that's hot!

 After nailing the look, it's time to address the attitude. That's best accomplished by discontinuing the useless communication process we call self-editing. Don't worry about offending people because you're now a straight shooter who calls it as you see it. If anyone is offended, chalk it up to their inability to see things in a rational manner or their overly sensitive nature. Most importantly - remember that you're God's gift to humanity. Good luck to those of you who choose to join this parade of fools. As for me - I'm thoroughly disgusted!

What do you mean the size of a walnut?

So the dunderhead and I are out taking a walk and this old blue haired woman approaches us and gives me a compliment. "Oh, what a pretty dog!"She says. I of course love such accolades so I proceed to give her the tail wagging sign showing my pleasure and agreement. She then asks the owner if I'm friendly and after finding out that I am - she starts to briskly love me up. Not a bad walk so far is what I was thinking. She then asks the moron what breed I am. You can guess what happens next. Sure enough, he goes and ruins my good time by telling her that I'm ...  a mutt! What?! He should know by now that I prefer to be referred to as a Shepherd Mix - mutt has such a negative connotation. Needles to say my walk was ruined and so I spent the rest of the stroll ticked off. 

So we get home and he nonchalantly tells the whole walk story to his wife and once again uses the word mutt in reference to me. So now I'm completely beside myself with anger but I decided it best to head outside before saying something I'd regret later. As I was heading to the backdoor, I heard him tell his wife that the old woman said I looked like a smart dog. I didn't remember that part of the conversation but figure it must have occurred when I got distracted seeing that darn Roscoe the tabby from down the street. Oh how I loathe that cat! He loves to taunt me by always doing his business in our front bushes. Afterwards he strolls up our driveway to rub himself against our fence while purring and whispering softly that he's left me a present out front. Oh If I ever see that flea-bag outside - I'll show him something about presents! But I digress - so back to the dunce story.  The owner said his reply to the old lady was that I was probably too smart for my own good. I'm thinking - Ok, that's a compliment. I can work with that. Maybe he's trying to apologize for his last inconsideration. But here comes the kicker - he tells his wife that it's amazing I'm so smart considering that my brain is the size of a walnut! I was absolutely mortified! It took all my strength to hold my tongue as I went out the back door  to go and settle myself down. Deep inside I really wanted to blast him but I decided to take the high road.

As I was lying outside trying to calm myself down I  began to wonder  just how big my brain truly was. I know my head is smaller in comparison to  that of a human's but it's not so small as to make my brain the size referred to by the idiot. Can it? I refused to believe that so I tried to think of a way to find out. I eventually decided to try and roll my eyes into the back of my head (pictured below) to try and catch a glimpse. Unfortunately, I found out that dog eyes only go back so far so now it's back to the old drawing board. I have to think of something because this conversation is not over yet. I'll find my information and when I do - I'm sticking it right into that big goofy doughboy face of his! Have a good day folks!

Applying the Pack Mentality to Team Building...

Disclaimer: The following is the opinion of a large dog and thus written from the animal perspective. In no way does the author expect any these actions to be adopted by humans - they are only suggestions. We are sorry if this post offends anyone  -  blame animal instincts. 

Today we explore the concept of using the pack mentality in order to promote a team atmosphere within an office, sports team, or anywhere a group mindset is needed. Taking a group of individuals and molding them into one single minded unit is not an easy undertaking. That is why businesses are constantly searching for talented consultants and effective exercises. I'm not particularly inspired or blown away by any of the current human charlatans on the team building circuit. Trust falls and name games are basically lame and should only be implemented by those who wait for their own extinction! In fact, I can safely say that not one of those inferior techniques comes close in effectiveness to those used by the animal kingdom. So today I offer you humans a glimpse into perfection by revealing two of our most effective team building exercises. 

Exercise #1: Feast - all for one:

For this exercise you will need a farm, game preserve, or ramshackle bus station - secure permission beforehand. Divide members into two groups - chasers and enders -according to each individual's speed and quickness. Chasers will choose a target and drive it into the waiting arms of the enders. The best targets are slow lumbering animals such as cows, donkeys, or any seasoned DMV worker. Next herd your target towards the enders and then let the good times roll. It works best if chasers soften up the game with their teeth during the chase before any ender moves in. Working together, all members will perform their jobs in order to enjoy the ensuing feast - chasers get first dibs on entrails. For those faint of heart team members, start off slowly with mild green chili burritos before moving on to bigger game.

Exercise #2: Divide and conquer:

Just as the name suggests - confront your adversaries one by one in order to acquire food resources, old furniture, and females for breeding. We suggest using current female team members, alcohol, or combinations of the two in order to lure individual enemy combatants out. First have your females (works best when they are in heat) spray their scent around the outside of the target's headquarters - or just set alcohol outside front door. Next, phone the target and ask to speak to any of the common human names such as Bob, Joe, or Dave *metro areas use television names - Jackson, Boone, or Gil. Once the unsuspecting target is on the line, tell them that you have delivered a hot female or female in heat to his front door. When he comes out to investigate - encircle target and attack with teeth, claws, or badly written poetry. Repeat process as needed.

Well there you have it. Two of the animal kingdoms most effective team building exercises are now at your command. Now that you are aware, I expect to see them used wisely in order to advance your pack's standing in the community - or at least to stick it to as many of those nefarious DMV workers as possible. As always, look for my new Pack Mentality Power Programs coming soon to a city near you. I also hope to have some self help DVD's and CDs available for this coming Christmas season. Have a good day folks!

Jaundiced Frankenstein...

I had a hard time concentrating yesterday afternoon and also sleeping last night. The reason is a troublesome picture the little one brought home from school. My chuckleheaded owner and his wife thought it was grand - like everything else these kids bring home - so they gave it an honored place on top of the fireplace in the living room. Of course this is where I spend most of my time so now I have to put up with this monstrous picture - I can't even relax in my own room anymore. Oh how these people love to torment me! 

One can only describe this picture as a portrait of a Jaundiced Frankenstein with lazy eye. You know those eyes some people have where one eye looks straight out and the other shoots off to the side making it difficult to tell whom they're speaking to. It does make for some great fun though when people are gathered around in circles at parties. Anyway, so this jaundiced Frankenstein with lazy eye is now ruining my life. I swear those eyes follow me wherever I go. At first I tried to block it out by doing my normal routine - lying on the rug, chewing, and scratching but I just couldn't make it work. I kept getting that odd feeling of being watched. Now I'm afraid to even go into that room.

 I did try burning some sage last night with the hopes of vanquishing the bad vibes but the house started making those late night creaking sounds so I spent the rest of the night hiding under a bed. Why do houses always make those creaking/settling sounds at night when one is freaked out? You never hear them at any other time. Oh well, so now I'm thinking about having the local priest stop by with some holy water to do a cleansing - it can't hurt. Have a great day folks!

What's that shaking?

Well, I guess we can't get through one weekend without some kind of nuttiness. Tonight we had a 4.7 earthquake here in southern California. The whole ordeal just made me ask some simple questions such as - does that goofball, shlep owner of mine have any kind of plan for me and the rest of the family for these situations? Do these people even know the correct responses? I just hope that moron doesn't have the intention of just letting me run wild if things get bad - or worse yet - use me as a quick meal when food gets tight. If you saw what he looks like you wouldn't blame me for that last bit of concern. Anyway, I was at least very least calm under fire.

If these people learned anything tonight it should have been that I can be used as an excellent early warning system. I was the first in the house to know what was going on tonight. The rest of the family was completely oblivious. How in the hell did they missed the rumbling as it came rolling in? I tried to warn the fools who were just sitting there all slack-jawed - catching flies in their open mouths and blinking their eyes but they were just too dense to understand. I'm there crying and walking around in circles and all they can think to ask is, "What's wrong with the dog?" What's wrong with the dog? What the hell do you think is wrong with the dog?! Get under a table or something you idiots! Finally, once the house starts shaking, they then get their epiphanies at the same time - looking at each other and saying in unison, "Earthquake!!!" I'm thinking - really? Are you guys sure? Maybe you want to discuss this a little more before coming to this snap decision? I mean - the house is lifting off it's foundation - are you sure it's just not gas? Maybe we should gather a blue ribbon panel to discuss this further? Or maybe you can just skip this nonsense and listen to the freaking dog for once!

Luckily the whole ordeal only lasted a few moments. Before they even realized that running past a brick fireplace during an earthquake to get to the kids was a bad idea - it was over. One can only hope that tonight's experience woke them up to the importance of reviewing the old family emergency plan every once in a while. Having fresh food, water, and medical supplies for your family and pets during trying times just might be a God send! Have a good day folks.

Rewind - August 15, 1999

I found these old diary entries in a box in the garage.  I'll post one every now and then so you guys can see how much things have changed.

August 15, 1999

I'm so excited to have been adopted so quickly but I still have a bit of sadness for I'm missing my brothers and sisters. At the same time, I'm kinda upset with my mother but am thinking that maybe she had a good reason to give us all away. One that will surface shortly. Oh well, I'm sure I'll get over this in a few days. Anyway, this guy who adopted me seems pretty wonderful! He has a good physical build, a dazzling full head of hair, and must be pretty darn smart to have chosen me! And what a nice family! The young son's been pretty sweet to me so far but I think he's becoming a little leery since I used my puppy teeth to scrape up his legs. Ha ha, I'm having great fun terrorizing him though. Overall, I'm thinking we will become great pals once he gets used to me. My new human Father's wife - did I just say human Father? Yes, I guess I did. See, I'm so happy that I can tell this is the best thing that will ever happen to me! Anyway, his wife is really nice as well. She's bought lots of toys and such for me so that I'll never be bored. I'm really  starting to feel at home here in this magical place! Of course - not everything has gone entirely smoothly. I got myself in a bit of trouble today ripping up the dog bed they just got for me but I couldn't help it. I wanted to see what was inside. Well, I better get back to the family. I think they're calling me to play ball. 

You know, I noticed that the kitchen moulding on the wall has a chip in it. I'm thinking that I should chew on it to smooth it out for my human Dad. I'm sure he will love it afterwards! Ok, talk to you later.

Applying a pack mentality to the workplace...

Disclaimer: The following is the opinion of a large dog and thus written from an animal perspective. In no way does the author expect any these actions to be adopted by humans - they are in fact - only suggestions. We are sorry if this post offends anyone  -  blame animal instincts. 

I'm going to step out of my usual focus on complaints against my owner and personal stories to talk about the current state of the workplace. By now, we are all aware that many businesses are failing during these tough economic times. Difficult choices are being made on a daily basis by those fortunate enough to keep their doors open. Many are cutting costs by reducing their workforce. Unfortunately, those remaining workers are being asked to add additional responsibilities and/or longer hours in order to fill the voids left behind by the displaced workers.  It is no wonder then that these remaining workers are suffering from low morale. With all this in mind, how can one survive or even thrive in the workplace during these unstable times? I suggest one key is to adopt the pack mentality. 

Having a pack mentality requires that workers engage others in order to establish dominance or claim one's place within their department's hierarchy. It is no longer good enough to just show up and work hard or to keep one's supervisor abreast of his or her personal accomplishments. One must now now clash with his rival and vanquish her competition - think cheerleading tryouts. By adopting these strategies, victorious workers will ensure their ability to provide for future bloodlines while also attaining personal satisfaction. The pack mentality has served the animal kingdom well for ages and let us not forget that humans have also used such practices before in the workplace - some as recently as the early 1980s. 

So where do we start? Let us examine some possible scenarios. For our first example, we have two coworkers within a department - Bob and Charlie. Each has arrived at the copy machine at the same time. Both have important presentations to make in a short amount of time so both must have copies made as soon as possible. Bob, a new follower of the pack mentality, grabs Charlie by the back of the neck and forces him to the floor. Charlie tries to fight  back but is physically overmatched. Charlie must now submit himself by demonstrating that he understands his new role by rolling onto his back and also avoiding eye contact. Bob can now claim both the copier machine and Charlie's presentation for his own. Bob may also elect to claim Charlie's cubicle by marking it. As for Charlie, he must now hang out at the outskirts of the office as an outcast or leave to establish himself within another company.

Our next scenario involves Linda and Gloria. Linda has been working for the same department for ten years without any consideration for a promotion. Gloria has been Linda's immediate supervisor all the while. Linda, a new follower of the pack mentality, approaches Gloria one day. Before Gloria has a chance to say good morning, Linda grabs her supervisor by the hair, and gently pushes her into the break room vending machine accidently breaking the glass front. Gloria, not  having kept abreast of the business trends of the day, quickly learns the hard way that she is being replaced by her subordinate and so must leave the company. As added benefit, Linda becomes popular with her underlings by supplying free snacks for all.

Our last example is a glimpse into what the new office environment may eventually look like. Office clerks - Gary and Joan are making small chat around the water cooler about a popular television show from the night before. As they are having their discussion, Ben from the mailroom approaches to get a drink. Knowing that their water supply is low and that one of them will have to replace the soon to be emptied bottle, Gary and Joan first warn off Ben with a series of low growls. Undaunted, Ben inches closer and receives the stronger showing of bare teeth from the two. Hesitant, Ben continues to inch closer until Joan attacks  - latching onto Ben's arm with her powerful jaws. Gary rounds from behind and bites Ben's leg - each giving a healthy dose of justice by wrenching their heads from side to side. Ben is quickly put back into his place and scurries back to the mailroom to address his wounds. He will not soon forget his defeat and will surely think twice before attempting another such power play. Gary and Joan are now free to continue their conversation- happy to have all the water to themselves. 

In these trying times where personal workplace opportunities and satisfaction are scarce. Workers must claim their place in the office as well as their share of personal happiness. One way is to adopt the pack mentality. I hope my suggestions come as a God send to those who need to hear my words. For those of you who need further assistance, look for my new Pack Mentality Power Programs coming to a city near you. I also hope to have some self help DVD's and CDs available for this coming Christmas season. Have a good day folks.

Foiled again...

Well, my attempt to pass myself off as a Seeing eye dog to acquire some of that delicious Handy Market tri-tip was derailed yesterday by the idiot owner! I tell you - I have the worst luck! What's the chances of that moron being at the store at the same time as me? I don't understand it - I had been so careful in my plans. I purposely waited about a half hour after the numbskull left so as to make sure he was far away before making my attempt. 

 It took about forty-five minutes alone just to get the Reese's beach towel on my back and then I go and get myself  caught! What a waste! You should have seen look on the village idiot's face when he saw me in the store!

Up until then, everything had been going so well. I had made it past the check out area unnoticed and was just about all the way to the meat counter with my note when I heard, "Haley?...  What the hell?" I turned and saw the look on his face and panicked. I ran around the corner out of sight before getting my bearings back enough to ditch the note about my being a Seeing eye dog.  Before I knew it, he had rounded the corner and grabbed me by the collar. I had no other choice but to give myself up freely for I was in big enough trouble already as it was. As he removed me from the store, my feeble minded owner  apologized left and right to all the workers and whoever  else would listen. I don't think anyone cared too much - they just seemed stunned seeing a dog running thru the store wrapped in a beach towel. 

All the way home the owner's face was beet red as he read me the riot act about leaving the yard or our home for he did not know yet how I had gotten out. I guess I could have told him that I had finally figured out how to turn the dead-bolt on the front door  by slapping at it with my paw but I could tell that it was not the right time. Luckily, I had forgotten to close the door when I left so it looked as if the door had been left open by the last person to leave or I had pushed an unlatched door open enabling my escape. He kept mumbling something about knowing he had locked the door when he left. What also really bothered him was the beach towel on my back. He had a hard time trying to figure any scenarios about that one. Oh well, life is full of mystery - let him wonder. 

Over all, I'm not discouraged. I know that I can use my new technique now to get out any time I like so I'll try again when this all blows over. Then I'll get my fill on those yummy meats at the deli counter.  Have a good day folks!

Giving it the old college try ...

I'm hungry but there's nothing I want to eat around here. My bowl has some disgustingly dry lamb and rice nuggets left over from last night's dinner but that's not exactly what I'm craving. What I really want is steak so I'm thinking about sneaking out down the street to the local Handy Market and getting some of their famous tri-tip. Unfortunately, I'm anticipating that I will be foiled again by that lingering communication problem that manifests whenever I physically try and talk to humans. They just never seem to understand me!

I'm still upset from the other week when I ventured out on Kentucky Derby day to place a wager but the lousy human at the window couldn't understand simple dog talk. This jerk must have been related to the ignoramus owner because he also asked me if Timmy was down the well when I was trying to speak to him. I really hate when people ask me that question! Anyway, because of that moron, I didn't get the $20 - to win bet down on, "Mine that Bird"  - the long shot I pegged after seeing the track condition in the pre-race coverage. Of course I never got a chance to see the actual race or results because the big numbskull owner turned off the television for the day shortly after that report.  Anyway, I'm thinking now that I might email my steak order in and then state that I'm sending my Seeing eye dog over to pick it up. 

The only problem with my plan is that I don't really know what Seeing eye dogs are wearing these days. I've seen them sporting those little colored blankets from time to time but I wouldn't  know where to get one. We have an old, Reese's Peanut Butter Cup" beach towel in the linen closet that I can try slapping on my back.  I guess I'll try that and carry a printed note with instructions for their worker. Ok, wish me luck and have a good day!

Recognition for the dogs...

Here we go another Monday and it's back to the old grindstone. I had a wonderful Sunday lounging around the house all by myself while the self absorbed cretins ran amuck celebrating Mothers Day. Of course nobody thought it proper to take the dog along for lunch or for any of their other celebratory plans. I guess they were afraid I might have a good time for once in my life. Yup, once again the hardest worker in the family spends her day unappreciated and unrecognized. Let's see, off the top of my head I can list a few special days set aside for for just about everything except dogs; mothers, fathers, birthdays, religious occasions, presidents, war victories, fallen heroes, workers, explorers, love, secretaries, and even lousy trees. Lost on that list is one stinking day for man's best friend!

So, we get the designation as man's best friend, but none of the glory and recognition - correct? We just can't find one measly day to set aside - a National Dog Day - where owners can show thanks for their dogs by taking them to a concert, restaurant, or at the very least, a movie? You know, places where we dogs are usually banned - along with shirtless or shoeless humans. As it stands, the only way I'm seeing the insides of any of those places is when the Holy Ghost comes down and turns me into a seeing eye dog  and there's fat chance of that happening anytime soon! I say we either need to start changing the rules around here or my goofball owner needs to think of something creative to get me access because I'm dying to know what these places are about! Besides, why should cats be the only animals that are allowed to be killed by curiosity.

Maybe the owner could get one of those leather dog carriers - the kind the neighbor down the street transports his two Dachshunds around in. Why couldn't my nimrod owner think of this? I'm sure somebody out there makes a leather carrying case to house a svelte 95lb dog. I'm not so heavy that he couldn't lift me anymore and I'll guarantee that I'd be quieter inside my case than those two yappy little wiener dogs. They're always going off about something or another with their annoying little German accents; "Look Hans - it's annozer hund der behind dem fence.", "Was ist los hund?", "Gretta, I don't zink zat hund  sprechens sie englisch" and on, and on, and on they go. Anyway, it would be nice to be able to check out what's going on inside those places for once.  

Well, I better go, I've heard about four or five peddlers at the front door leaving their annoying advertisements. I better go and post up before Mr. Compulsive Shopper starts having them over to quote carpet cleaning, house painting, or bug services and I get stuck inside a bedroom. Have a good day folks! Oh, and don't forget to give my National Dog Day some consideration.           

Brush off...

I'm fed up with hearing how my fur makes a mess around this house. It's simple people - if you don't like the way my discarded hair travels around the floor in clumps like desert tumble weeds, then you have no other choice but to brush me more often. It's not like I can go grab a brush and do it myself - hello - no thumbs! Besides, is any of this really a surprise here? Is it too much to ask that people do a tiny bit of basic animal care investigation before deciding on whether to adopt a pet? Or do they just imagine that the magical fur fairy will arrive to clean up the mess? Overall, it's not my fault people!

You would think that they'd just be thankful that I supply my own body covering in the first place. Would they prefer that I demanded Gap jeans or Quick Silver shirts every month or so instead like those two brats of theirs? You know - the ones who don't even supply any valuable service around here. That is unless the household can't function without the use of electrical devices, unmade beds, and clothes on the floor. But I guess that is what a birth entitlement gets you. Meanwhile, the only one who works 24/7  around here is required to do her job while being fed second class citizen food. Oh, and let's not forget the wonderful rest one gets from sleeping on the floor! You guys ever try to work after sleeping on the floor all night? And what's my reward for all of this? I get to field complaints day and night about my fur on the floor while receiving the lion's share of the old stink eye. 

It's times like these when I wish something would have come about from all those art submissions I sent in. I personally think that my turtle drawings looked just like the ones in the advertisements. Who knows, maybe I'd be working in an art gallery somewhere by now or even for a NY advertising agency? I guess it's just not in the cards for me. I'm just trapped here in Count Doofula's castle for the duration. To forever be tortured by their inconsideration and general buffoonery. Oh, but I do take solace in that their near constant fur complaints as proof that they will  be taking care of me in my senior years instead of the convenient euthanizing most dogs receive. Ah yes - life is grand around here. Life is indeed grand! Have a great weekend!

We should all have an Uncle Neil!

I haven't always lived solely in Burbank, CA. I was born here and do currently reside within her friendly confines, but I haven't always lived here exclusively. Likewise, I have not always experienced my unfortunate circumstance of living this common working class lifestyle. No, I was once given the opportunity to break away and live in another home as someone else's pet. It was a short-lived glorious experience as an ultra-pampered dog. I shall never forget those magical days or the kindly man responsible - Uncle Neil. Let me tell you the story.

 A couple of years back my owner - Captain 'C' Student - was contemplating moving our family closer to relatives on the east coast.  The question at that time was - where? His relatives resided in the northeast - Allentown, PA area, and his wife's family was located  in the southeast - Ft. Myers, FL. A decision was made that Florida would be the most logical location. Nothing against Pennsylvania's people or culture mind you - it was just a weather thing. Anyway, after some months of planning we eventually sold the house we had been living in, and rolled our misfit caravan eastward out of Los Angeles towards a new life. That was on a Saturday morning in June of 2005. 

Now the home where King Cranial Cramp and family planned to reside in was under the process of construction so we needed a place to stay until its completion. An offer came in from the wife's parents to live with them but there was one problem. They had an older cat whose health couldn't stand a 75lb dog (one who disliked cats) running around for six months. This brings us to Uncle Neil. Uncle Neil is the uncle of the owner's wife who at that time was enjoying a laid-back Florida lifestyle - free from 75 lb dogs. Being the decent guy that he is, he decided to give me a shot and then work things out from there if needed. It turned out to be one of the happiest times of my life!

Every day that man made all manner of human foods that he, unlike other humans I know, was willing to share such as; scrambled eggs,  lunch-meat sandwiches, chicken burritos and t-bone steaks. We also feasted on a never-ending supply of snack foods such as; potato chips, Bavarian pretzels, Jolly-time popcorn, chunks of pepper-jack cheese, and my favorite freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It was the type of eating that I had only ever before experienced in my wildest dreams. 

In addition to all the wondrous food items, he also treated me to multiple daily walks. These were not your watered down, "let's get this over with" variety. No, these were strolls of pure freedom. Freedom to stop and smell whatever scents that caught my fancy. But that wasn't all, I was also allowed to pull him everywhere on the leash like a loon - if that was to my liking- without threat of retribution. Never was I told that my walks would be stopped or cut down in frequency or duration. I tell you - the man was the second coming of St, Francis of Assisi! 

To their credit, the old family did visit me on a daily basis - the little one probably missed me the most. For his part, the Duke of Doofus showed up every night to brush the fly-a-ways from my coat and vacuum Uncle Neil's floors. This was to make sure I wasn't being considered too much of a burden. Everyone was happy - that is until that blasted house was finished. It was then that I was forced to leave my personal Shangri-La  to rejoin the peasant lifestyle that I had hoped was only in my past. I thought we all had moved on. I was wrong - giving me yet another reason to dislike, "Sir IQ of 6" 

After a vet visit, we learned that I had gained 25 glorious pounds, which to this day, I refuse to apologize for. My time at Uncle Neil's will forever be looked back upon as my favorite and if ever there comes a day where my gate is left open -I'm hitting the freeway and following it back to his house. I have no doubt that he will be there waiting. Waiting to share a freshly made plate of bacon filled deviled eggs with a side of potato chips. And we will go for walks until neither of us can hold ourselves up anymore and watch ESPN until the cows come home. 

My hope is that each and every one of you gets a chance to experience your own Uncle Neil at some time or another in your lives. Unfortunately, I must now go - someone is at the door so it's time to get to work - chasing them off. I was once a pampered dog but now am not. At least I have my experiences to look back on to help me carry on. Have a happy weekend all!

Hail to the Chief...

The house switched over this morning from using the traditional bottled suntan lotion to that of the spray variety. It was decided that convenience should win out over any environmental concerns since it only takes a few seconds to spray up the kids in the morning - mainly the eight-year old. The teenager has the belief that he lives in a universe where sunburn is not existent so mistakenly figures that he can opt-out. But our story is not about the battle of making kids wear sunscreen or the dangers of sunburn. No, today's post is about the fallout from this new policy. For it is today that we lose one of the owner's most beloved make-believe characters -one that only appeared when bottled sunscreen was used, "Chief Fartsalot"

It started a few years back; the big ninny was working nights and thus watched the little guy - a preschooler at the time - while his wife worked. Sunny days would start  for Father and son with a trip to the park. In order to get the tot ready for this fun in the sun, a good measure of sunscreen was applied. One day, as the owner contemplated the best application technique, he decided it would be best to start with a few stripes across the boy's face and then to blend everything in evenly from there. So he marked the boy's cheeks and nose - three light horizontal streaks across the cheeks and one vertical stripe down his nose. 

Standing back, he looked over the boy - he got an idea. "Hold on" he said as he quickly bounded down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. In a few seconds he returned from his son's room - having retrieved the old Indian headband with feathers that his son had made earlier for a preschool thanksgiving play. The boy giggled in anticipation - having made the connection. As the owner placed the headband on his son - war drums started filling the room. The beats came in a series - softly at first - as if coming from a distance and included short pauses for dramatic effect. The beats grew stronger and faster and went something like this;   dum .......dum.......dum......dum  /   dum......dum.....dum... DUM /  dum ....dum...DUM...DUM / dum..DUM..DUM..DUM, the beats increased in size and pace until they were at their strongest and fastest DUM. DUM. DUM.DUM / DUM. DUM. DUM. DUM/ DUM. DUM. DUM.DUM! The toddler screeched with joy as he jumped around the room - showing off his version of a rain dance! It was then that the child let loose with the accidental blast of wind - thus sealing the name, "Chief Fartsalot" until this sad, sad, day.  

Unfortunately, the Chief's ending has been coming for some time, for the toddler has grown into a, "mature" eight-year old who prefers now to forgo the ceremony of becoming the Chief. So it is with heavy hearts today that we mourn not only the passing of the Chief, but also that special moment of time. We've been down this road before with the teenager. It's amazing how quickly time passes and it is hard to give up the moments that we enjoy so much. But we look forward to new experiences and comedic opportunities that life presents. And we shall await the coming of a new Chief someday. Maybe down the road in the form of a Grandson or Granddaughter? Have a great day folks and for one last time - Hail to the Chief!

"Oh, the humanity"

I'm emotionally and mentally traumatized! If not for the foul images that have seared  themselves into my brain - I'd be pleading for someone to press hot coals into my eyes! I wish my pupils could have vomited these unsavory visions before having permeated the halls of my memory, but alas I've no sight gag reflex. If only there had been some form of warning - I might have been able to save my poor brain from utter ruin. Unfortunately, I was at the disadvantage, no one could have imagined this ghastliness. No horror movie or book has ever seen the likes of what I've witnessed and shall unfortunately remember for the rest of my days and sleepless nights. Let me tell you my pain.

I was outside most of the morning enjoying the sunshine when it occurred to me that my manservant, "Mr Belve-doof" had not seen fit to come and let me back into the house. It had been a beautiful morning here in Burbank - high 70s - so I didn't mind having extra time to bask myself in the glorious morning sunshine. After standing at the backdoor for what seemed about fifteen minutes without any hide or hair of help, I proceeded to the back bedroom sliding-glass door to investigate. As I rounded the corner, I heard the unmistakable sound of Neil Diamond singing, "Sweet Caroline" emanating from the house. Unfortunately, the vision I beheld was neither sweet nor Caroline. 

I gasped in shear horror as this despicable sight started attacking my corneas - the owner - wearing only a pair of checkered XL boxer shorts - running on the treadmill! Remember, we're not talking Brad Pitt here folks. Try thinking more on the lines of James Gandolfini from, "The Sopranos" A two-hundred plus pound individual - all muffin topped out - running - gasping between words - and all the while, the jiggle factory operates at full capacity. For further enhancement of this picture, imagine also, milky - I haven't seen the sun since 1989 - legs moving in time while black ankle and knee braces hold on for dear life under extreme duress! Now you know my pain. Sorry if I offend but I just could't keep this bottled up for fear of mental exhaustion. I'm off now to my dog hole to lie down and attempt to recuperate from this ungodly event. Try to have a good day.

I've been dreading this letter...

I'm reminded today that my ten-year reunion is coming up this fall. It is hard to believe that ten years has passed since my graduation from Verdugo Hills Canine Academy! Man, I hated every minute of  my time spent at that lousy school! Now the question is... do I want to attend? One part of me thinks that I should drop a few pounds, get a new collar and dazzle them with how fabulous I look for my age. The other wants to grab all those bastards by their lousy scruffs and dispense some justice! Oh how I loathed all of those show-offs and their constant calls for attention! "Look at me... look how well I sit." Or, "Look at me... I know how to give my paw." And my personal favorite, "Look at me... I don't pull on the leash when I walk!" Those creatures made my time there a living hell!  And if it wasn't bad enough being forced to do their little sadomasochistic tricks in school, the big half-wit insisted that we practice all week outside of the class. I can still remember walking back and forth down the street - all the while I had to stay to the left side and try and anticipate when the doofus was going to stop or turn around. I tell you - I still hold a grudge about all that stuff he put me thru since it was all for his benefit! What was in it for me? And why was I not good enough the way I was to begin with? I listened to him some of the time. What else did he want? What was the point?  Really -did I do anything with that stupid certificate anyway? It's just sitting in a box somewhere collecting dust! And let's not forget all those great students there that I had to put up with in order to get that stinking piece of paper.

The one who really ticked me off was the little Bichon Frise bitch, "Vuitton" She was the one who was always sashaying around each week with a different jeweled collar around her neck from her stupid collection. She thought she was all that! It was pathetic watching all the male dogs always trying to sniff that skank. And their male owners were just as bad - ogling her sparsely-clad human owner  who wore a different, "Von-Dutch" trucker hat each week. Oh, the damage I wanted to inflict on those two! Vuitton was also the one who had me upset for a whole week after calling me a, "common working dog" in front of, "Sos" the Alaskan malamute. She knew we were talking about meeting up at the dog park so she went and turned him against me. Oh, how I would love to get her back! She wasn't the only one I despised - there were others.

Vuitton was closely matched by, "Maria" the shaky little Chihuahua bitch who claimed to be from Spain - yeah right! She too was acting like class was some sort of mixer and always tried her best to show me up.  She actually had the nerve once to say I was big and clumsy like my owner! I responded by calling her lunchmeat and then proceeded to try and show her why. Needless to say - I had major points deducted that day for my conduct. To make matters worse, when we got home, the goofball owner complained to his wife that he was embarrassed by my behavior. He didn't even try to stick up for me - even though he heard what that dog said! It was all enough to make me want to drop out. Unfortunately, the dope kept dragging me back week after week. 

I was never so glad as when I heard my name called on Graduation Day! I remember thinking " Thank God this is over!" And, " I never have to see these mongrels again!" I was free - at least until I received the reunion letter in the mail slot today. Of course it was the guy wearing the blue shorts and carrying the leather pouch who would be the one leaving it for me. I tell you, he just lives to taunt me! Everyday I bark for him to get the hell out of here and everyday he just keeps coming back anyway! 

So what do I do now? My first thought was to eat the letter - preventing the owner from discovering it and getting any bright ideas. Unfortunately, I'll have to shoot that one down because of my inability to digest paper and the owner's concern regarding anomalies in my stool. I'm leaning in the direction of burying it in the back yard. This would add another level of protection since the sprinkler's water would surely ruin any traces the owner otherwise might find. Of course it will be odd depending on one of my mortal enemies, "the sprinkler" to help me out of this mess. There's gotta be a book in here somewhere. Oh well, I digress. Ok, it's decided then -burying the letter in the backyard is the way to go. Well I'm off. Have a great day! 

I need to put a damper on this.

I just can't stand when someone is happier than me - for any reason. All day long the big simpleton has been prancing about the house - all jolly and sing-songy because it's his birthday. What the heck does he have to be joyous about? First of all, he's turning 40 and hasn't accomplished much in his life- other than weight gain. Next, he's still out of work and there doesn't appear to be any prospects on the horizon. Last but not least is he's slowly going bald. Yep, he's got the makings of a nice horseshoe on top of that huge melon he tries to pass off as a human head - attractive! I hear that the human ladies just can't get enough of those horseshoes these days.

 

Lucky for him - he set the trap and got his female years ago when he was thinner with a full head of hair. Otherwise, all he would have these days would be late night, "Girls Gone Wild" videos. Come to think of it, is there some kind of physical connection between the young human female's tongue and their shirts? Why is it that when they lifts their shirts  - their tongues automatically come out? ... Oh well, I guess it's like us dogs when you scratch a certain area on our stomachs and then one of our paws starts to move.  Ok, I better go now - I hear him coming closer  - singing that annoying happy birthday song again. Maybe I should go chew on the corner of the television - or one of his old baseballs in the plastic cases. That would snap him back to reality. Have a good day folks! 

Special Sunday Post... don't expect these every week.

Saturday night is over and - what a relief! What had the makings of a potential tragedy, thankfully turned out to be nothing after all. You see, La Jefe Estupido and his wife allowed their eight-year old boy to have a friend sleepover last night. Of course, nobody thought enough to consult me to see if I had any concerns. I guess we can add another link to that long chain of disrespect given to this security expert! Why am I even here? Have you ever seen the human President's Secret Service get ignored when plans are made?  Why should this case be any different?

I guess they've forgotten that I've devised a strict set of protocols that need to be met before any individual or groups are allowed onto the family compound. First of all, there is a fifty-page questionnaire used to measure family compatibility and visitor sanity. It includes such questions as, "Are you, or have you ever been a member of  the Communist Party?"  And, "On a scale of 1-10, how much do you like dogs?" All these questions need to be passed with a minimum 90% grade in order for candidates to be proceed to the next round. Next, prospects are administered the Wonderlic IQ test used by NFL teams leading up to the NFL Draft. Future visitors must score close to the genius category in order to advance to the last and most grueling level. Coming down the stretch, successful candidates are subjected to a comprehensive series of  background checks  - which include interviews with family, friends, employers, and a  law enforcement search covering the past twenty-five years. Oh, and we also check college transcripts here as well. While the interviews are being administered, potential visitors are kept under strict video surveillance 24/7 and  are required to wear tracking bracelets. 

If a candidate makes it thru my vetting process, he or she is upgraded to the level of temporary guest. They are then reserved a specific date to be used for visitation purposes. If for any reason they cannot fulfill this visitation date, the process starts over from the very beginning. Tuff system? You bet - but necessary in this crazy day and age. Of course my family has decided to bypass my system potentially putting our family into the devious hands of subsequent terrorists. 

 That could have been the case last night with the eight-year old visitor but luckily for all of us, I am trained to keep a vigilant eye - and basic animal instincts honed, for dangerous, unscrupulous characters. Thankfully, my fears quickly subsided when this child entered our home and rubbed my ears... leading to my conclusion that he was not evil after all. Of course had I not been here, who knows what might have happened? Maybe my mere presence turned this child to the good side? Who knows, he may have been scared straight by my fearsome tail wagging or something of the sort but I guess we'll never know. Overall - the family's decisions come as no surprise to me anymore. Why? Because the lunatics are running the asylum! I'll talk to you guys later - I'm disgusted!

Voluntary quarantine...

I woke up today feeling a bit tired and with excess eye-goop.  With that in mind I'm ordering a voluntary quarantine for myself - at least from the big ninny. Interactions with the rest of the family are still approved - I'm just not planning on dealing with, "El Presidente Stupido" today. That last insult is brought to you today in preparation for the coming week's  Cinco de Mayo - nice huh? Anyway, with the swine flu all around - one cannot be too careful. I plan on boosting my immunity by sleeping most of the day and maybe a little rolling in the sunshine. Somewhere I heard that alcohol consumption helps ward off flu viruses so maybe some cervezas are in order. I'm partial to Corona with lime myself. Ok, relax and enjoy the weekend. With all the worry of the past week - don't we all deserve it - at least all of us except the, " Idiota gigante". Have a great weekend people!