Crime Fighting Parrot Wants a Cracker

I firmly believe, we all aspire to do great things.

I’ll even include Mothball, the family fat cat, in on that action. Sure her great goal is just to annoy me on a daily basis, but at least she strives to be something better.

For me I’ve always wanted to do good things in law enforcement. I want to head up my own K-9 team to clean up the streets. That’s figuratively speaking, not literally, because let’s face it, no one but a human will pick up dog poop from the street.

I know I’d have achieved my dream already if I only for that damn K-9 cop entrance exam. The whole thing is in German!

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Clean Snakes Are Still Scary

Yesterday, my father dropped my mother off at the airport.It is her annual pilgrimage home, and some time for her to vacation in Maine with her girlfriends.

This is the time of year where my father gets to spend 10 days fending for himself and the army of fur balls he calls his own.

Here it is less than 24 hours later and you can already sense the absence from the home. How you may ask? By simply looking at the counter tops.

Strewn about are four glasses, three peach pits, and a peanut butter laden spoon laying on the dish rag. Don’t even think that anything has been wiped down.

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Falling Mountain Goat Hits Hiker

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, “Some days you’re the dog and some days you’re the hydrant.”

Today happens to be one where I feel like a steel fixture painted red.

This morning my kibble was served dry, my water was warm and the grass I peed on was already wet. That, my friends, is a crap sandwich for an old veteran like me. And not the good kind of crap sandwich (kitty snickers on pumpernickel) I enjoy.

I guess it beats the night my mother had, though. She had to clean up my brother Goliath’s throw up twice last night. Yeah, twice. The old man? He just slept through it…or at least pretended to.

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Free Food at Pubs for Pups

So here I sit in the good old US of A enjoying another day of sunshine and sleep.

Even though my life is great, I always feel there’s someplace better to be. Sometimes it’s as close as the other side of the fence, other times it’s as far away as Europe.

In practical terms this means wanting to whiz on the lightpole on the corner of my street or letting loose a red, white, and blue stream of B20 on the Eiffel Tower.

It all really depends on how ambitious I feel that day.

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Doggie Ice Cream Van

There’s big trouble in the house…and no, it has nothing to do with me.

There’s an accusation from my father that his wife, my dear mother, is poisoning him.

Sadly, I agree. How else to explain his shift in attitude from watching Animal Planet every night to watching Dateline, 20/20, or 16 and Pregnant? She’s poisoned him alright, and it’s gone straight to his brain.

But that’s not the kind of poisoning he was alluding to. No, he’s complaining about being compromised by the food she feeds him.

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When Pigs Fly

Hero worship. I know it well.

Not because I look up to many dogs, cats or humans, but because of being looked up to. Yeah, that’s right, there are other living creatures who look up to the old Bo dog.

Granted, I’m a big dog in a little park, but even so, every yard break is now met with adoring looks (and quiet applause) from every chipmunk and possum especially when my escapades bring me to other neighborhoods.

Lest you think it’s because I’m a famous author, it’s not. No, my forest dwelling friends can’t even read, let alone afford the paltry 15 beans it takes to get my life story into their hands.

No, it’s really because of the way I smell.

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Mad Max and Me

It’s time for the Bo Monster to chime in on the latest scandal hitting the internets and the world, and to prevent another one from happening in the process.

Today, I bark about Mel Gibson and his tirades against his girlfriend/mother of his child.

First off, let me go on record to say I love Mel. I think he’s a great actor, but more importantly an advocate for animals. Anybody that’s willing to take a dog along for adventures in a post apocalyptic Australia gets four paws up from me. What a warm, gentle, loving soul, eh.

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Dog Toots His Own Horn

Damn it’s been hot down here in Georgia lately. I hear the whole east coast hasn’t fared much better.

Thank goodness for air conditioning. Whatever you do, don’t listen to those nutbags that want us to stop using it.

There are times when we do need to leave the comfy confines of our homes, and as dogs we can only hope our owners are careful to monitor our heat index when out and about in the family car. I probably shouldn’t bark this, but if it’s too hot out our owners may want to reconsider taking us. Unless they take us into the pet supermarket, the butcher’s shop or the liquor store, is there a point in even going?

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A Letter To My Younger Self

I met a nice pup at ‘camp’ this past weekend. He was adorable, a good listener and eager to please.

When he told me his parents had made a special appointment for him upon their return, I knew what was in store for this admirable young dog. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then, so I wrote him a letter and stuffed it under his doggie bed before I left.

I don’t know whether the letter was for him or really to my younger self.

Anyway, here it is in its full form.

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Waterworld – Dachshund Edition

Sorry for the lack of posts recently but I was at ‘camp’ this past week while my parents went on vacation.

While they spent the week at the beach taking in the sun, the water and gobs of fatty food I was relegated to camp activities where I did my best to steer clear of getting a doggie shiv to the intestines from Bruiser the Pit Bull. For what it’s worth, once I gave him my Milkbone money, the threat was notably reduced.

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