Owney The Postal Dog Gets Extreme Makeover

A legacy that lasts longer than your physical self. That’s every dog’s goal.

That was the reason I wrote my book, the national best seller Bad to the Bone: Memoir of a Rebel Doggie Blogger. By putting paw to keyboard to computer screen, I was able to secure my place in history. Of course this presumes the Library of Congress doesn’t shut down like so many of our local libraries.

There are other, less taxing ways to stay in the hearts and minds of people the world over. Think about Rin-Tin-Tin, Lassie and of course Cujo. They’re all celluloid heroes, not to be confused by Kirsty Alley, a cellulite hero. Read more

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Finger Lickin’ Good?

Stories abound around the internet about dog heroes.

You have the ones that save families from fires, the brave few who take bullets for their K-9 partners, and of course,  the ubiquitous canines defending their loved ones from joggers, walkers and the mailmen.

I’m a hero, too. I saved two humans from a life of self-involvement and boredom. Without me they would have checked out of this game called life many years ago. I’m sure of that.

I also have a special notch on my collar from the time I saved my father.

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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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Canine Good Citizen Test Gone Bad

Well sometimes you just have to laugh. For me it’s usually when I’m goofing on humans.

To that end, I present to you the video of my mother as we go through the Canine Good Citizen certification test.

Note how she thinks she’s in control, but really isn’t. Enjoy.

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Woof-Out to the Dog Heroes

This weekend is Memorial Day here in the good old US of A. It’s a time to remember those that paid the ultimate price to protect the freedom and liberty we enjoy today.

As a bonus for us pups, this is accompanied by family gatherings, plenty of food and the targeting of high probability treat machines.

While a lot of stories will be written about the human sacrifices made by our military heroes, rarely will there be a bark out to the special support provided by dogs. Admittedly our feline “friends” do not receive coverage either, but that’s because they are on perpetual college deferment programs. They’re takers, dogs are givers.

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You Are So Beautiful

Some take their cues from the Westminster Dog Show while others take theirs from the Ugliest Dog Contest. One thing is clear, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

It’s fortunate my parents get their idea of canine beauty from the former, otherwise they would have passed right by me on the fateful day they adopted me. Not to be cocky or anything, but when I say I’m handsome I’m not sure I’m doing myself justice. Remember, it ain’t cocky if you can back it up.

But some are less fortunate than me. In Des Moines they decided to throw a self-esteem bone to some bulldogs. You know, to try to make them feel special because they don’t got a lot going on in life. I’m not trying to be mean, but have you ever seen one up close?

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Dog Turns Owner Over to Police

I’m not a snitch.

When my father rolls in at midnight after boys’ night out, I don’t bark to alert my mother of his arrival. I wait, knowing he’ll dig into the fridge for something to eat. Sure it might be a week old plate of spaghetti or a plate of tuna salad from an era long gone by, but like him I’m not proud, just hungry.

When my sister Moose captures a mouse, chews its head off and brings it into the house, I don’t bark a thing. It’s not my place. My place is in the corner, to watch my mother discover it and scream in horror. Why would I want to break up the surprise?

Speaking of surprises I don’t bark when my father comes home with Christmas presents either. Why spoil the heartfelt gifts of a swiffer, a toaster oven and a set of pans. Romance baby…the man is all romance.

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Cliff Diving Dog Survives Plunge

I jumped into a lake once.

Not on purpose, but by accident. You see there was this leaf, cleverly disguised as a big rock, floating in the lake a few feet below me. I thought it was a perfect place for a photo opp. Humans love those.

Let’s be honest with ourselves, is there anything more majestic than a beautiful mixed breed dog, dressed up in his best fur suit, sitting in front of a colorful landscape that only fall can offer?  Of course not. Especially when that pup is me.

So I closed my eyes and jumped on the ‘rock’. Much to my amazement my paws did not stop on a hard surface, but rather plunged into the depths of the lake.Water went up my nose and I gasped for air. It seemed an eternity until I resurfaced.

With oxygen back in my lungs, I swam back to shore and struggled up the two foot embankment. It’s a good thing I had my wits about me because my parents were too busy laughing to save me.

As revenge my father’s Chuck Taylor’s did not fare very well that night.

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The Smell Of Love Is In The Air

I may be a day late and a milkbone short on today’s story, but it’s the thought that counts.

As some of you know, well 3% according to a recent survey, this past weekend was Valentine’s Day. I’m not one for love and cuddling because a day on the calendar tells me to do so. No, I do it because I want to. Ok, maybe not so much the love part, but the cuddling is to die for.

I admit Valentine’s Day has me a little miffed. The typical gifts of candy and flowers just don’t do it for me. Flowers? What am I supposed to do with them? Sure they might come in handy at Rocky the Squirrel’s funeral, but let’s be honest, I won’t get the invite. Read more

Bloodhound of a Different Kind

Bloodhound.

When I first heard the term I didn’t know what to think. On the one paw it sounds really good. I mean what’s not to like about a bloody steak, a bloody snot rag in the garbage, or my father, a bloody fool.

On the other paw, massive amounts of blood makes me woozy. Yeah I know I’m a dog and I’m supposed to be  tough, but I gotta tell ya if  I had to hunt and kill my own food, I’d become a vegan. Blueberries rarely make a blood curdling scream.

Then there’s all the rage these days about vampires. Is bloodhound another way of saying vampire dog? It used to be when I heard Twilight, I only thought about the Zone I lived in. Nowadays Twilight is the time of day I have to look over my shoulder when I go pee pee. Speaking of which, where did I put that garlic?

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