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.

A dog can take the next step to immortality by having his owners stuff him. Not with good stuff like chicken, beef or chipmunk meat, but with whatever it is taxidermists use.

That’s how Owney the postal dog has stayed in the forefront. UPI has his story.

WASHINGTON, July 25 (UPI) — The National Postal Museum in Washington said the stuffed remains of Owney the dog, a postal icon since 1888, received a makeover to coincide with his stamp.

The museum said Owney, whose image graces a “Forever” stamp due to be released Wednesday, received was fixed up in June by retired Smithsonian taxidermist Paul Rhymer and is returning to display at the postal museum, The Washington Post reported Monday.

“My restoration got it back about halfway to what it should have looked like,” Rhymer said. “We decided to try to make him look a little better, a little more realistic.”

Rhymer said his work included replacing Owney’s eyes, patching bald spots on his fur and sculpting a new snout.

Owney the dog became famous after he wandered into a post office in Albany, N.Y., in 1888 and spent the night on a pile of mailbags. He traveled the country with the Railway Post Office until he was shot by a Toledo, Ohio, town marshal in 1897 after reportedly attacking a mail clerk.

But rather than bury their much-loved mascot, the mail clerks pulled together the money to have him preserved by a taxidermist. He was displayed at the Post Office Department’s headquarters in Washington until 1911, when he was transferred to the Smithsonian.

“This dog, he’s that indefatigable character that can throw you back into history,” said Linda Edquist, a conservator at the National Postal Museum. “It’s a great way to connect people to the 1890s.”

In light of the current economic climate, how long before the Post Office lays Owney off?

Popular Tags:

• dog heroes
• i saved a dog im a hero
• lassie smithsonian taxidermy
• owney the dog national postal museum

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.

I pointed out a pimple on his face that I suspected was more than just that. I was right. No, it wasn’t cancerous, but it did turn out to be a boil. Without my warning, he would have popped it against the mirror, sending dangerous shards of glass flying in the air…like dynamite exploding in a mailbox.

As big of a hero as I am, there’s a Jack Russell who went above and beyond the call of duty to save his owner. Check this out.

DETROIT (Reuters) – A Michigan man credited his dog with saving his life by chewing off his diseased big toe as he lay passed out in a drunken stupor.

Jerry Douthett, 48, woke up on a Saturday night in late July in his Rockford, Michigan home to find his Jack Russell Terrier, Kiko, had gnawed off his right big toe.

“The dog always lays with me on the bed,” said Douthett. “That night, I woke up and looked down at my foot, and it was wet. When I looked it was blood, and there was the dog looking at me with a blood mustache.”

Douthett’s wife, Rosee, rushed him to a hospital where doctors found he was suffering from Type 2 diabetes. His toe was badly infected and surgeons amputated the remainder of the digit.

Douthett’s wife, a registered nurse, had been urging him for weeks to have his infected toe examined by a doctor.

On the night Kiko ate his toe, Douthett said he had been out with his wife and drank about “six or seven beers” and a pair of giant margaritas “big enough to put goldfish in.”

“I was self-medicating at this point,” he said. “The moral of the story is that the dog saved my life, because otherwise I never would have gone in to see a doctor.”

The couple said they were amazed that Kiko appeared to know Douthett had an infection that needed treatment.

“He kind of chewed off the infected part and stopped at the good bone,” said Rosee. “We joked that we shouldn’t have had to pay the co-pay because he did half the job by chewing off half of the toe.”

Kiko is a braver dog than me. It’s that or Kiko’s owner is a cleaner man than my father. Well, it’s probably both.

Here’s some video goodness of the story:

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.

You see, my mother’s been washing me with this oatmeal smelling shampoo that, for whatever reason, the local vermin just love. So much so that they don’t even wait for the yard break anymore and just invade the yard I live in. It’s so frequent now, I don’t even chase them anymore. I’d rather just sit back and lick myself. What can I say, I like oatmeal.

Frankly, I don’t even know where I’m going with this story so I’m just going to end it here with a story of one of my heroes…Porky Pig. The UPI has the squirrly tail.

GURNEE, Ill., July 14 (UPI) — Police in suburban Chicago say two Six Flags Great America employees visiting the park on their day off allegedly assaulted … Porky Pig.

Gurnee police said Dmytro Petrychenko, 19, and Taras Sikalchuk, 20, allegedly hit the 24-year-old woman dressed as the “Looney Tunes” character in the back and front of her head 10 to 15 times after posing for a picture with her, Chicago’s WMAQ-TV reported Wednesday.

Police said both men, who are from Waukegan, were removed from the park and issued battery citations, the Arlington Heights (Ill.) Daily Herald reported Wednesday.

The woman was taken to a first aid station, where she was treated for head and neck pains and released.

Later, the woman was a put on a spit and eaten by the amusement park attendees.

Is that ending a little grim? Eh, that’s all I got folks.

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.

Popular Tags:

• video of canine good citizen test
• youtube canine good citizen testing

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.

As I sit back, I picture what all the Private Rovers have gone through in support of our country during times of war. I can’t help but imagine myself with a combat helmet strapped around my large cranium and a cigarette dangling from my snout as I peer out of a foxhole. I smell the German Shepherds coming at me, but I stand tough and defend my turf, and my country. I’m John Wayne, Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood all rolled up into one fur suit (I guess I could lose a few pounds).

The reality is I’d probably run away like a Yorkie on his first day at doggie day care. Had it been up to me to defend this country, it would be likely that we’d all be barking German today. What can I say? I like to sleep on a bed, mooch food from my parents and snuggle my sister Moose. In short, I’m soft…and a coward.

That’s why I am so grateful for those that have the strength, courage, and self-discipline to not only make it in this man’s army, but to thrive in it as well. These are special dogs and should be thanked for their sacrifice.

I think the K-9 promise says it all:

My eyes are your eyes, to watch and protect you and yours.
My ears are your ears to hear and detect evil minds in the dark.
My nose is your nose to scent the invader of your domain.
And so you may live, my life is also yours.

Let me give my heartfelt thanks to all service dogs past, present and future for all that you do for this country and your fellow man. If you want to read moving tributes visit uswardogs.org to read the stories of our latest fallen heroes.

After you do, feel free to head to Hamburger Hill, better known as the grill out back.

To honor our heroes, I’m giving away a free, personalized, and pawtographed book of Bad to the Bone: Memoir of a Doggie Blogger. To enter to win the best dog book ever, head over to BadtotheBoneMemoir.com and leave a quick little story, observation or comment.

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?

Let me just say that if you haven’t had the privilege of taking a female bulldog out on a date, you’re in for a treat. At dinner be prepared to watch the drool run down her face and  on onto her plate. She won’t even use a fork to eat her kibble. At the movies you won’t be able to hear over her panting. Not lustful panting, but panting like she just ran a marathon.

Not only will you drop her off before curfew, but even before you smelled her, uhmm, ear.

Anyway, here’s the info from the Des Moines contest from the AP.

DES MOINES, Iowa – For three years, Porterhouse was so close to the title he could drool on it. Now, the Beautiful Bulldog crown is his to slobber on for the rest of the year. After two runner-up finishes and one “Mr. Congeniality” title, Porterhouse finally nabbed “top dog” honors Monday when he was crowned the winner of Drake University’s annual Beautiful Bulldog Contest in downtown Des Moines.

Porterhouse, a 4-year-old brown and white bulldog from Des Moines, beat out 49 other dogs from eight states to claim the title.

The judges weren’t looking for the prettiest mutt in the mix. No, they wanted to see drool, bloodshot eyes and bowed legs – and costumes don’t hurt either. Owners slapped tutus, blonde wigs, goggles and all kinds of wacky hats on their precious pups.

“They’re not looking for pedigree,” Dolph Pulliam, the master of ceremonies for the event, said of the judging. “You use your own imagination.”

Porterhouse’s owner, Erin Bell, said her dog is a sweet, friendly guy who always makes people laugh. She and her husband, Kevin Bell, had a feeling Monday morning that, after three years of coming so close, Porterhouse would finally break through this time.

“He’s handsome – we think anyway,” Bell said.

I agree Porterhouse is handsome, almost as handsome as a Filet Mignon.

Photo courtesy of (AP Photo/Charlie Neibergall)

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.

So it surprised me when I read this morning’s police blotter about a Jack Russell dropping a dime on his owner. The BBC has the full story.

The excited pet dog of a German man on the run from the law led police to his master’s hiding place in a cupboard, police in the west of the country say.

When officers called at his flat in Euskirchen, near Cologne, the door was opened by an acquaintance of the missing man who was holding the dog.

The acquaintance said he did not know where the owner was.

But when the dog was set down, it led police to the cupboard, where it stood expectantly with its tail wagging.

Officers who opened the cupboard, which was just a metre (3ft 3in) high and 80cm (2ft 6in) wide, found the fugitive “hunched up inside”.

Neither the name of the suspect, 52, nor that of the pet was given but, according to AFP, the dog was a Jack Russell terrier.

Public Service Announcement: Crime doesn’t pay. Begging does.

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.

Anway, my tale comes to mind after reading the story of a dog with a similar, harrowing experience courtesy of UPI.

SEAFORD, England, Feb. 22 (UPI) — Two dogwalkers said they feared the worst when their springer spaniel leaped from a 300-foot cliff, but the dog bounced off a wave and swam to shore.

Lia Markwick and Stephen Winslade, who were walking Poppy as a favor for Lia’s brother, said the canine was chasing a seagull and made a flying leap from the cliff in Seaford, England, The Sun reported Monday.

Markwick and Winslade said they expected to look down and see Poppy’s body, but instead the dog had managed to avoid hitting the rocks below and landed in the high tide, allowing her to swim to a nearby beach. Markwick said they called Coast Guard authorities, who recovered the canine after it made its way to dry land.

The dog’s owners, Ben Markwick and Kelly Ixter, said Poppy suffered a collapsed lung but is expected to make a full recovery.

Seagulls. Not only can’t you catch them, but they poop on your fur and steal people food.

I guess even God can have an off day.

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.

Speaking of funerals, the candy associated with this day is deep, dark chocolate. If you want me dead, it would be easier to just tie me down on the Amtrack rails of the northeast corridor. It would be quicker, unless of course the train was running late again.

Maybe my focus on Valentine’s Day should be on the giving part.  A farmer in Minnesota seems to be on the right track. Check it out from the Albert Lea Tribune.

For his wife this Valentine’s Day, a farmer has created a half-mile wide arrow-pierced heart recognizable from the sky about 12 miles southwest of Albert Lea.

Following plans he jotted on scratch paper, Bruce Andersland drove his tractor and manure spreader earlier this week in the special shape for his wife, Beth.

On Thursday afternoon, the Tribune was on the telephone with Beth when she had her first look at the aerial image, taken through Minnesota Aviation by Albert Lea pilot Darren Schone.

With a gasp, Beth said, “Now I’ve got my Valentine! That’s pretty cute.”

She said it was the biggest and most original Valentine she has received in her life.

Bruce said he had the idea because the square-mile, snow-covered field seemed fitting for something.

“There’s such a nice field there. I thought we could just do it for fun,” he said.

Bruce began the project Wednesday and finished Thursday.

“That’s just part of farm life. Doing something fun and creative with it makes farming fun,” she said.

I know what many of you are saying, “Bo, this isn’t an animal story.” To which I’d have to reply, “Where do you think he got the manure from?” Certainly not his wife.

It’s a fine line, but the integrity of posting only animal stories on this blog remains intact.

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?

The reason I’m hung up on all this is due to a  story from Cairns about a true bloodhound. Read on.

A PUREBRED six-week-old pup owes her life to a blood transfusion from a gentle greyhound more than 15 times her size.

Cairns resident Sami Knoblock had a tearful reunion with her English Staffordshire terrier yesterday after their scary ordeal.

Ms Knoblock said her dog, Buddy, was vomiting and could hardly lift her 1.6kg body to stand on Tuesday night.

She rushed her sick dog to Brinsmead Veterinary Surgery where Greencross principal surgeon Max Fargher found a hookworm infestation that had caused a massive haemorrhage.

With Buddy at death’s door, Dr Fargher raced home to get his trusty pooch Hurley, a male, six-year-old 34kg greyhound.

Dr Fargher then performed a transfusion by transferring a “drop” of Hurley’s blood – 120ml – to Buddy.

He said a young dog’s first blood transfusion could be from any donor dog, but if it needed a second, it would have been a far trickier situation.

“I wasn’t 100 per cent confident it was going to work – Buddy only has 120ml (of blood in her system) and the transfusion simply replaced it,” he said.

“We needed to be quick – she only had three-quarters of an hour.”Once it (the hookworm) gets into the guts … it just bleeds the dog dry,” he said.

I guess dogs aren’t much different than a hookworm. We look to get inside our owners guts, more specifically their hearts. Once there, we’ll bleed them dry of all treats and love.

Mother nature…she’s a beautiful thing