On the road to Honolulu...

Well, he did it again - the big nimrod owner ruined my golden opportunity to get away - this time to Hawaii! I was just about to leave on my big trip when he showed up to blow up all my plans - like he always does. I swear my anger towards him burns like that of a thousand suns. I may never get over this. How do you make up for a lost trip to Hawaii? This just may be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

It all started this morning when a few of the local cats gathered in front of my fence. Shadow -their leader was the speaker of the group. This alone came as a surprise for I had just chased him up a tree the night before after finding him in our back yard hunting mice. I figured this was going to be about that incident since it allowed one of his mice to escape. Anyway, he stated the group's remorse that our neighborhood feud has been going on as long as it has and he lamented the amount of casualties the war has produced - all on his side. He proposed we start again fresh by establishing a dialogue of peace and friendship. To prove their seriousness on this issue, he disclosed that they had all chipped in and got me a present - an all expense paid trip to Hawaii. He then continued by saying that they were all concerned that the stress of my job was beginning to affect my mental and physical health in a negative way. I couldn't have agreed more - especially knowing how my stress grows when I'm dealing with the village idiot. Needless to say, I was blown away by their compassion and generosity.

After thanking them and telling them how much I was touched, they brought out a big box that they had been hiding in the side bushes. On top of the box they had scrawled in blue crayon, "TO HAWAII" Well, it all appeared legit which helped to ease my mind of that lingering thought that they were up to something - I'm skeptical by nature. Anyway, I asked when I was to leave and they said that they had arranged for a truck to pick me up in a few minutes. Wow, I had to hurry if I was going to be ready in time. I quickly went inside and gathered everything I was going to need - my best collar, one bottle of sunscreen, and most importantly - my Reese's beach towel for spending time on the beach or in case I needed to disguise myself as a Seeing Eye Dog in order to get some food. Man, I couldn't wait to get to those luaus!

After gathering my stuff, I rushed outside to where the cats were waiting for me with the open box. I must admit that it did take all my self-control to keep from attacking them, but I didn't want to ruin my golden opportunity so used that as motivation to keep my cool. Next, Shadow said that I needed to get inside the box so that they could seal me up for the trip. Man, those guys thought of everything because inside the box was everything I was going to need - a blanket, a bowl of food, and also some water. Once I got comfortable, they placed a lei around my neck, wished me aloha, and then proceeded to tape the box shut. I was so excited waiting for my big adventure to begin!

As I waited to be picked up, I made a list of all of the activities I wanted to do -snorkeling, volleyball, and night-time campfires were right at the top. Man, I couldn't wait! Finally, my moment had arrived for I heard a vehicle coming into the driveway, my heart pounded in anticipation - it must be the truck! Tragically, my excitement was quickly vanquished when I heard a car door open and then the unmistakable lumbering sound of my idiot owner walking up the driveway. He was returning home from delivering the kids to school. I sat quietly as he walked around the box - no doubt inspecting it.  I hoped that he would just ignore the box and head straight into the house but instead he opened the box and stood dumbfounded from finding me inside. "What the hell is going on?" he screamed as he pulled me out of the box and hustled me inside the gate - killing my vacation plans.

As I was being forced inside the gate, the old guy from down the street - who is usually known for yelling at kids - came walking on by. He appeared to be in an exceptionally good mood for some reason and was whistling as he strolled. This all made the owner suspicious so he asked the old guy whether he had something to do with my being placed inside the box. Of course the old guy had no clue what was going on and after shooting the owner an odd look, asked him what kind of drugs he was on. The owner became furious at this and screamed that the old guy should stay away from our house. This made the old guy storm off - spouting mumbled profanities all the way back to his home.

 Just as things were beginning to settle down, a garbage truck pulled in front of our house and the driver asked if someone had called to have an extra garbage pick-up. The owner said no, but since they were here - they could take the big box in the driveway. Thankfully though, the owner grabbed my stuff before the garbage men could load and compact it with the rest of the garbage. Afterwards, I went to lie down in my dog hole behind the hibiscus bush - depressed that my trip had been ruined. You know I never did hear that truck that was supposed to come and pick me up for my trip but I suppose I was too depressed to notice anything. Have a good day folks!

National Dog Day August 26, 2009

Recently I've been getting letters from all over the country from dogs who are not pleased with their current living conditions. These poor animals are tired of working their tails off 24/7 while receiving third class accommodations in return. They are asking - if not pleading, that I rally our canine constituents and any public supporters to stand up to the mindset that states that it is acceptable to treat us dogs as possessions.

 For many of our first years together, dogs and humans had enjoyed a successful symbiotic relationship - one that was beneficial to all. We dogs patrolled the human camps of yesteryear  - protecting our human counterparts from intruders while only requesting that humans help us with tasks requiring thumbs in return. This arrangement worked quite well for many years. Unfortunately, somewhere along the line everything changed  - probably when some human found that putting a rope around our necks was a great way to control us. Since then our relationship has shifted to that of master and servant. We  basically have become objects to many  - tools to exploit. Well, we no longer want to be looked upon as possessions. We want equal standing again and most importantly - STOP GIVING US AWAY AS PRESENTS TO SNOT-NOSED KIDS! 

Yes, we demand equal status with our human counterparts otherwise we will be staging a walk out - and we don't mean the type with leashes. I've been drafting our new Proclamation of Canine Freedoms that will be formally unveiled at this year's National Dog day festivities on August 26, 2009. Under this new decree, it will be required of every new human employer that he set up individual insurance and bank accounts before the arrival of any new canine family member. That way, we can cut down on the brutal practice of convenience gassing -where its cheaper for an owner to get a new dog than to pay for medical treatment. We also want our own bedrooms, access to automobiles, refrigerators, and computers, and most importantly - the right to determine whether or not we want to be fixed. We also demand that radicals such as Bob Barker receive mandatory jail time for all of the crimes committed against our canine citizens from promotion of their extremist agenda - population control my ass!

Overall, many of us would rather take our chances on the streets than to continue on in these conditions. So please support our attempts to level the playing field  as we declare this year's National Dog Day on August 26, 2009 as our K-9 Fourth of July. We will be staging rallies at dog parks all over the country. Check your newspapers for activities in your local area. For those of you in the Burbank area keep an ear out for the upcoming First Annual Leash Burning Party (permit pending) at the Burbank dog park on Screenland Drive - in July. Thanks for your support

Is it safe?

So I got into the garbage this morning and lost control- I ate waste like a crazed animal. Whatever I couldn't eat, I merrily rolled around in...  It's what I do.  Anyway, as I was just about finish, I heard the unmistakable sound of early morning doofus traffic coming from the den of the dimwit. Had my frolicking stirred the big moron to action or was it that I just lost track of his wake up time in all of my excitement? Before I could get untangled from the heavenly wrappings of old banana peels, used coffee filters and remnants of the shredded hefty bag, the lumbering fool rounded the corner rubbing his dull eyes and scratching his partially covered - from drooping boxers - derriere. 

Unfortunately for me, my scene was not well received. I was read the riot act while being rudely escorted  to the back door by the collar. If that wasn't bad enough, I was then gruffly told to get out and stay out. Baby Huey then stomped back inside to further disrespect me by cleaning up my fabulous creation. Every now and then he would stop and glare out the window - scrunching his face in disapproval in order to administer a dose of the old gypsy eye. Of course I always find this ineffective because when he scrunches his doughboy face, those two unkempt eyebrows of his become kissing caterpillars -making him look like a fat faced Bert from Sesame Street complete with unibrow. His comical look is further cemented by early morning hair, which always stands up straight. 

So now I've been banished to the frigid outside world of Burbank, CA. I swear it must be about 68 degrees out here this morning. I wonder if I can report him for abuse? Well, at least he filled my water bowl but that doesn't make this any easier to endure. What nerve this guy has - I'm not sure if I can ever forgive him after this! And where does he get off taking all of my glorious garbage and throwing it away? I worked hard to get that pantry door open and then the bag  - nobody wanted that stuff anymore so I claimed it. If anyone knows a good lawyer here in the Burbank area I'd sure appreciate a referral. Ok, I'm going to my dog hole and hopefully calm down... darn stupid owner! Have a good day folks!

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!