Duck Out of Water

I heart all baked goods.

During Christmas I always enjoy my mother’s demented, serial killing gingerbread men, her  leaning tower of Pisa pound cake, and most of all the sugar cookies she buys from the Publix bakery.

Overall, I’d say my favorites are peanut butter cookies, liver flavored cupcakes and bone marrow muffins. MMM, mmm, good.

Of course my cullinary exploration must stop at the border of Chocolate City. Many a pup has ventured in, but not one has come out.

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Gelding Forced to Adopt Ducks

As I wrote in my book, Bad to the Bone: Memoir of a Rebel Doggie Blogger, you don’t have much of a choice as to who adopts you.

Even a fun loving, outgoing and lovable mutt like me had to have a couple of goes at it before landing my forever folks, but I was lucky.

Imagine being a duck and being adopted by a horse. That’s right, an equine.

That got me to thinking, what if that was me in that situation? How much fun could cuddle time be if I’m worried about my safety? Let’s be honest, once Mama Secretariat rolls over, I’m dead.

What about primping time before heading out to talk up the local chihuahuas? Well, I’ve never seen a hoof that can hold a furminator, or be able to spray a healthy dose of Old Spice on my neck.

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Bear Fails Pottery Class

We’ve all been caught in embarrassing moments, including me.

I’ve run into a tree, been mounted by a miniature poodle, and caught failing to wash my paws after I peed. They’re momentary transgressions that we all hope will pass into the dustbin of history. Of course that assumes no pictures were taken.

Now I read about a bear, a jug and a tight squeeze…and 0h, a camera.

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Einstein Thinks Small

Super size it.

That’s what I tell the old man when it’s chow time. Hey, it takes just as much effort to think small as it does big. Might as well go after the big prize, I say.

Apparently somebody forgot to tell God to do the same when he brought Einstein into this world.

CNM News has the full details on the little guy. Read more

Cease and Desist Order To Bunny Suit Wearing Man

Longtime readers of this blog, and the fabulous book Bad to the Bone: Memoir of a Rebel Doggie Blogger, know I love to dress up during Halloween.

Just take a look at the picture in the header of this blog. No, not the Amazon advertisement, but to the left, that handsome dog in the Darth Vader outfit. That’s right, that’s me, not some overpaid dog model.

I’ve been many things over the years ranging from a pumpkin monster, a gay cowboy and a dinosaur with a caveman on his back. I love to dress up, if only to entertain my parents. I figure it’s the one time of year I can ‘give back’, although I do have boundaries.

Last year I heard the old man talking about getting me a Princess Leia costume, and then chuckling uncontrollably. Well that ain’t gonna happen, ever. Well, at least not in public.

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Wallaby Terrorizes Family

I overheard my parents talking last night saying they felt like they were prisoners in their own house.

Apparently taking care of four dogs and one cat has them feeling a bit claustrophobic. It probably hasn’t helped that all of us, except Mothball the cat, left the house for dog school only to come back and live with them again. Hey, that’s how dogs roll.

My father is forced to walk us in the morning, at night, and if we’re lucky truck us over for a stint at the dog park. My mother takes the time to clean our rooms, our bowls and our litter boxes.

I’m not sure who’s got the better deal, but I do know I’d clean the litter box for free. Read more

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Noah’s Ark Recreated – Filled With Plastic Animals

Noah’s Ark lives!

To every animal the story of Noah’s Ark holds a certain charm to it. What other ‘tail’ do you know that proactively hooks up animals with each other?

When I hear the story, I put myself in the position of the male dog asked to be a passenger on Noah’s Love Boat. After being served a bowl of water by Isaac (he’s one of the human servants on board), I head back to my cabin. There, a foxy little Wheaton Terrier  awaits my arrival. Our job is simple. To procreate.

I move in to playfully nip at her collar when  . . .  *BAM*, I realize I’m a neutered male.

I don’t even have neuticals for show.

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Educating Donkey Kong

I’ve never been impressed by those who have attended institutions of higher learning.

I say that as a graduate of one of the premier dog academies in the country, Fire Hydrant U.

I know sit, stay and heel. Command me to go pee pee, poopie or stop licking and I’ll do it. I’ll give paw, roll over and bark for anyone who wants.

But what do you expect from a  dog whose IQ is in excess of 12?

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Squirrel Mistakes Toilet For Attic

It amazes me what scares humans.

Take my old man, for instance. There was a time, right after he graduated college, when he lived with two other guys. They were young, strong, and unafraid of the curveballs life throws at you.  In short, they were naive children, in grown up bodies.

One day, a bat happened to find its way into their humble abode. They sat watching TV when the bat made its appearance. What followed was a scream fest you hear from a pack of six year-olds when you take their lollipops away.

These so called men ran for their lives, and the door, all the while screaming bloody murder at the top of their lungs.

And about what? A tiny little bat.

What ensued was a 12 hour standoff, with the ‘men’ sleeping under blankets while all the windows and doors lay open. To this day, all three have yet to regain their self respect.

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Dog Poop Finds New Home

We all have to take dumps, right? I mean, what’s the alternative – to hold it in until you’re ‘impacted’ and have to be rushed to the vet for an anal, and intestinal, flush?

That’s why I like taking good, healthy-sized dumps in the back yard.

Of course that usually means a big mess out back, but that’s not my problem.

I always tell my parents if they don’t want me eating it, to bag it before it ripens into a tasty treat. Or, if they don’t want to step in it, to bag it up and send it to its forever home.

I never thought about where my extract goes after I’ve finished processing it, but this story suggests there is a place called poo-heaven. Read more

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