January 29 | 1 Comment
My rawhides? Replaced by Greenies.
Those Greenies? Replaced by 100% natural dog biscuits.
And those dog biscuits? Replaced by a whole lotta nothing.
Apparently I’m a fat tub of goo according to my parents, and the vet’s scale. But hey, at least nobody is talking about replacing me. Read more
January 25 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
Don’t get me wrong I’m pro Harley, and motorcycles in general, but if I have an opportunity to recycle a joke then, by golly, I’m going to do it.
My mother on the other hand is not a fan of motorized cycles of the two wheel variety. I know she’s forbidden my father to get one. It’s not because of safety concerns, but rather the fear he’d ride around town side saddle.
I’m with her. Can you imagine if he wanted to take me along for a ride? Not only would the dogs in town be woofing in laughter at me, but a chorus of cat meow snickering would surely follow! Read more
January 22 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
Where on this great earth of ours could King Kong’s descendant survive an attack from an army of zoo workers carrying guns and tranquilizing darts? If you said Skull Island you’re right, but you’re also living in a fantasy world.
Those living in the real world know the only logical place would be Japan, and sure enough, that’s where the latest ape-human drama played out.
January 21 | 1 Comment
I know the feeling.
Even at my advanced age I get into screaming matches with my parents. It’s always “Bo No!” this, and “Bo No!” that. They don’t give me any space. So of course I bark back. Not immediately mind you, but when they’re comfortable on the couch or sleeping in their bed. I love hearing the old man yell, “Bo, shut up!”
It’s almost better than a treat. Almost. Read more
January 20 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
I’ve tried goat cheese, goat kabobs and I’ve even tried wearing a goat-tee but the only goat I’ve ever really liked was Billy.
I remember meeting him many years ago at a wilderness park. He was in the distance eating grass, and his owner’s laundry. Billy didn’t seem any different to me than a sheep, other than the fact he didn’t follow the crowd blindly.
He was wild. He was hungry. He was horny.
What wasn’t to like? Read more
January 19 | 1 Comment
That’s right, your fuzzy hero has a fear of the slinky kind. Maybe it’s because I remember the day, when I was a mere pup, when a snake crawled into our den to vie for my mother’s nipple. When I attempted to push it away, it bit me. Needless to say I thrashed it to death. However, the mark on my psyche lives on to this day.
Some may think I made that story up and the real reason I’m afraid of snakes is because I’m a girlie dog. Well you can’t prove it can you.
Anyway, I, a macho dog, still run in the opposite direction of any snake that crosses my path due to this puphood incident. Not only is this a good idea, it should be a law. Read more
- 3cenp th8 us
January 14 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
Ever notice how they like to command you to do things? Sit…stay…come…no…No…NO!
Do they really think we’re going to comply if it isn’t in our best interest?
If I want food, I whine. If I want to be petted, I raise my paw and expose my belly. If I want to run free, I slip my leash. It’s my agenda we’re following not theirs.
January 13 | Hmmm...No Comments Yet
Especially covered in cheese, ketchup and in between two buns (hey, I’ll be here all week folks!).
Well, it turns out cows can be quite menacing. Really.
January 11 | 3 Comments
No thanks. If I’m going to partake in the heaven known as pasta, I’m going to select one that says something about me. That’s right, when dining on Italian cuisine, I opt for pasta number 9…better known as Angel Hair pasta.
Let’s be honest, not only do I have an angelic disposition, but my long strands of fur are to die for!
I like my dish with a little clam, hamster or squirrel sauce on top. Over all these years, the only thing that’s changed is rather than having it cooked al dante I now prefer my pasta cooked to a gooey mush. Simple reason, really. Much like Michael Scott, I’ve developed soft teeth.
January 8 | 1 Comment
By the side of the road, a green statue with a large headpiece waved at us. It was lady liberty, she was alive and much smaller than I expected her to be. A few blocks up the road and there was Uncle Sam urging us to beep our horn. Not a mile later Raggedy Ann was waving us into the local furniture store’s parking lot.
What is this phenomenon that is going on?