Dog Saves Owner from Quicksand Death

Color me skeptical.

That’s my reaction to today’s story about a hero dog. I know it’s in my best interest to promote the heroes among the canine class, but I have to keep my integrity intact if I’m to continue to serve the faithful readers out there.

Let’s be honest, would there be anything worse than compromising my honor and then being compared to cats that shill for the local 9-lives club? I guess being part of the club would be worse, but that’s about it.

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Monkey Arrested for Spreading Love

I love The Monkees.

Many a morning I’ve woken up and howled the familiar lyrics:
“Hey, hey I’m a Monkey.
I’m always Monkeying around.
But I’m too busy howling,
To put that piece of bacon down.”

And I know, at some point in your life you’ve howled along to that song too. It’s no use denying it, the BoMonster knows all.

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Sugar Bear Looks for Inner Tony Hawk

I’m afraid of heights.

There, I said it.

It’s a debilitating fear that’s kept me from climbing to the top of the Empire State Building, the Eiffel Tower and Yao Ming.

The hidden shame I feel watching Underdog fly through the air is debilitating. I realize my only chance at superherodog status is to keep all four paws on the ground like Scooby Doo. But I know in my heart that if I’m ever to be invited to the Hall of Justice, I need to be able to overcome my fear.

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Turtle Pushed Around

My parents are doing a little renovating in the basement. Believe it or not they’ve pulled up a gorgeous berber rug, with years of great smells in and on it, and replaced it with a wood floor.

That sucks.

Now I have to contend with wood floors on every level of the house.Don’t these folks know that an old pooch like me likes to be sure footed at all times?

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March of the Bald Penguin

Baldness. Some rock it, some don’t.

Rocks It: The American Hairless, The Mexican Hairless

Wouldn’t Rock a Boat: The Hollywood Hairless

Turns out the baldness phenomenon extends to the penguin class, too. That’s right, those little guys who hang loose on the freezing terrain of Antarctica are born with feathers, which they inevitably lose.

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Cats Are Cheaters

I read the headline, stunned at its implications.

“Cat gets GED”

What’s the world coming to, I thought.

As canines we’re forced to go through the humiliation of continuing education classes. First there’s the good canine citizen certification and basic obedience followed by intermediate and advanced classes. Then there’s the agility training and service dog ‘electives’ to round out a pup’s credentials.

All these requirements just to be a working class dog.

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Fish Fails to Fly Like an Eagle

How do you know it’s not going to be your day?

Is it when the kibble in your breakfast bowl isn’t covered with Savory Sauce? Or is it when you go for your morning walk and you’re the one that steps in George the Labradoodle’s poo instead of your owner? Or maybe it’s when you go to fart on the bed and a poop comes out?

Any of these situations may qualify as predictors of a day filled with disappointment, but I think I found one sure fire way to tell if the day is truly going to suck.

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Perfect Pet – Perfectly Wrong

I’m not quite sure what to think about today’s story.

Well, yes I do. I think the folks in the UK have a screw loose, that all the rain falling on their heads has turned their brains to mush and that the pints of warm beer aren’t damaging their livers nearly as much as their sensibilities.

How else to explain what they perceive as the perfect pet.  Are you ready to hear it?

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War and Peace – Canine Version

I have to give credit where credit is due.

I always thought I was the most prolific message leaver in all the world. No fire hydrant, tree or human leg was safe from my lemonade stream of consciousness.

Heck, the first draft of my book was written with this invisible ink. Fortunately for me, I didn’t lose anything because I had it backed up with a hefty aroma (just a friendly reminder for all of you out there to always back up your work).

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Ella Did It, In the LR, With a Candlestick

Never let it be said that the Bo Monster doesn’t like a good sentimental story.

Oh my! I just referred to myself in the third dog. Hmm…what does that say about me? Probably that I’m a narcissistic, bigheaded blowhard.

What can I say, guilty as charged.

But I won’t let your judgmental ways get in the way of a good old fashioned touching tale.

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