The Hotel New Havernese

Let’s be honest with each other. Work sucks.

Do you know of any dogs that actually enjoy their jobs? Sure Rufus may look like he enjoys snatching a biscuit from his nose, but he ain’t having any fun. Sunshine rolling over for a treat? A blow to her self esteem.  She might as well be working the pole.

Maybe the trick to happy employment is to do something non-traditional?

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Polly Want a Heimlich?

Hero alert!!

No, I’m not talking about a hero as in a sandwich, sub or grinder. Well, I wasn’t anyway.

But now that I mention it, I could go for a nice roast beef sub with thousand island dressing on whole wheat bread.  While I’m at it, I’ll take some liver flavored potato chips along with a beef shake to wash it down.

Where was I? Oh…a hero in our midst. Turns out you don’t need to be a dog to save human lives. Read more

That’s a Croc, Says Doc

If it’s good enough for the Cat Lady, then it’s most certainly good enough for a crocodile named Robo Croc.  We’re talking about a little nip and tuck of the facial variety.

Some may be surprised, but I’m actually against getting work done on our money makers.

Why would I want to inject my lips with fat from my rear end? No thanks. The only ass fat that I want injected in me is cow fat. And by injected I mean, delicately placed in my mouth. Read more

Dog Looks Like a Man

There are days (mostly gray, cloudy days), I lay on my parents bed with my father. Just me, him and the sound of silence. He spoons me and pets my head while offering me a devil’s deal.

“BoBo buddy…let’s trade places for a while. You go to work and I’ll just lay around all day.”

It’s a suckers bet since he only does this when the smell of stress emanates from his pores, or to be more exact-his armpits.

I know, and he knows, that he’s looking to run away and strap poor old me to the bomb that is his career. No thanks.

Realizing he’s on a fool’s errand, he snaps back to reality and cries himself to sleep at night. Hey, at least he’s got me. Read more

The Flight Less Traveled

Superman does it. So does Underdog. The Greatest American Hero does it too, although not as well as the other two.

That’s right, it’s flying. Truth be told, I can’t fly. My paws just won’t reach the rudder controls, no matter how hard I try.

Don’t feel bad though, because you know who else can’t fly? Turkeys. You know, the bird, with big wings. Yeah, that thing can’t make it over the Sunday Times.

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Two in the Hand, Worth One in the Cage

I consider myself a savvy haggler, especially after my parents have come home from grocery shopping. I know there are goodies in the fridge with my name on it. All it takes is a bit of patience and the knowledge that all humans are weak to get at them.

At these times, when my parents offer me a plain old dog biscuit to entice me to sit, I’ll turn and walk away. When they offer me peanuts, I’ll stand there, staring back at them with the “You gotta be kidding me” look. Only when their offer is upgraded to a hot dog will I firmly place my butt on the floor, and if they went upscale with the Nathan’s variety I’ll even offer up a paw.

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Couch Purrs Like a Kitten

Dogs are lovable, happy and the greatest companions on earth. That’s why we’re easier to adopt than say monkeys, wolverines and yes, cats.

From what I can tell felines are loathsome, wretched and confrontational. Outside of that, they’re great.

What’s a cat to do? It’s not their fault their DNA makes them this way. Well, the smart ones think of ways to help themselves.

Yes, there are smart ones, and you need to look no further than Spokane, Washington for the latest example.

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Hot Dogs for Guns

Some dogs are better than others.  The same can also be said for humans, and if I take it one step further, I can even apply it to criminals.

That’s right, criminals. They’re not all evil to the core like the ones that kidnap dogs for ransom. No, there are  kinder hearted thugs raping and pillaging this great world of ours too.

But what makes a criminal, a good criminal?

Just check out this story of gun thieves in Jersey and you’ll know the answer.

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Spare Me the Details

Bowling has never been my thing.

It’s not because I have difficulty jamming my paws into those tiny holes. No, it’s because I don’t like wearing those ugly shoes they have at the alley. Seriously, who likes to walk around in ridiculous looking loafers with other dogs’ paw sweat in them?

Unless you’re a reformed germ freak, you have to pull out a bottle of Purell and spray your digits before you can lick those precious paw pads again.

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What a Tail

Back in the day, ten years ago in fact, I lived in a frigid climate. It gave me the opportunity to play in cold weather, snowy weather and blizzardy weather. I was in heaven.

That’s probably why my parents moved me to the south.

Before relocating however, I did rack up a few good tips for surviving in Mother Nature’s coolness:

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