Obamas head to Hawaii . . .

What a lovely family. Only something seems to be missing. What could it be? Hmmm . . . Oh, I know, it's their poor dog, Bo. The Obamas have the world at their fingertips, could take their doggie anywhere. But choose to leave him behind. What kind of monsterous family has Bo been adopted into?

H1N1 -- Be sure you get vaccinated

This poor guy got the swine flu, cause he has a negligent owner who would not get him vaccinated.

http://wcbstv.com/local/dog.H1N1.flu.2.1385726.html

I recommend all you dogs out there to have yourselves get the vaccine. Now is no time to be taking a chance. At first my daddy didn't want to do it. He scoffed at the idea. But then I showed him this article and now he made an appointment with my vet. DON'T TAKE THIS LIGHTLY. We could be looking at a major can-demic.

New Favorite President?

Those who have been faithful to my blog know my partiality to that great non-violent, humanitarian president, Jimmy Carter. I even went out on a limb and declared him my favorite president. But recent events are forcing me to reconsider.

As I sniffed around the kitchen this past weekend, I stumbled across this photo of former president GHW Bush, with his sweet, white-haired mother. But lo and behold what the former veep/pres is holding. A cute little doggie. Does the doggie remind you of anyone? Huh? It looks like me (without the underbite). I think it's a cockapoo, maybe even one of my brothers or sisters from up there at the Autumn View Farm. I'm not positive and will send the photo off the the AFCA (American Federation of Canine Authentication). But if it comes back positive, it will give me a whole new perspective. Bush will have proven he is willing to embrace diversity in a way no previous president has. No more sickening porty dogs handed-down from stuck-up Kennedys. You'll see. Cockapoos and unabashed breed diversity will really come into their own.

I don't support the Masons

I had a very nice sight-peeing walk with my daddy last week. We walked all around Alexandria. Here you can see me in front of the famous Masonic Temple with a picture of me next this guy named George Washington. He's famous because he has a nice house on the Potomac River. Remember? I posted a photo of me last year in his back yard.



Maybe you didn't notice it before, but it's hard to miss it here. There is a remarkable resemblance between me and this Washington fellow, don't you think?








Well, my daddy and I wanted to walk up close to the place and maybe do a little peeing on it. But before we could get much closer, a mean man yelled at us to 'get off the property.' So this is as close as I could get, off to the side behind a fence. It's not right. Those Masons, whatever they are, are anti-dog and I don't recommend you join them.

Open Letter to My Big Brother

Dear Big Brother,

I am trying to be a serious blogger and infuse my blog with commentary on issues and events that are important or of interest to the canine and human communities. But some of your comments have been off-topic at best and inane at worst. Let me give you some examples:

On October 3, I posted an entry titled "Cockapoo Pride" in which I hightlighted a heart-warming tail of PC the cockapoo, who came away a big winner at a local dog show, infusing pride in the entire cockapoo community. Your comment was somewhat inappropriate, bordering on breedist: "i wouldn't go so far as to say that the cockapoo is an actual type of "breed." the so-called 'cockapoo' is a type of mut. not breed."

On September 8, I posted an entry titled "An Open Letter to My Mommy and Daddy", where I argued quite convincingly that it was discriminatory for them to eat lavish human foods, right in front of me, then offer up only dry kibbles in my dog dish. My motives were not selfish, rather this has been a persistent complaint from dogs world-wide. Your comment? Let me quote: "Tommy, you look deep in thought in this picture. i like it."

But maybe the worst, most egregious example occurred for my November 14 post, titled "Sure Miss My Mom", where my dear, sweet mother Cherokee revealed a terrible tail of mistreatment and suffering. Here, I quote your comment in full: "Tommy i can't see your fang in this picture."

Big brother, I have been told that you are relatively intellegent, by human standards at least. We do welcome your participation. But I wish you would try to stay on topic and offer my readers more than human drivel.

Sure miss my mom

I haven't seen nor heard from my mom in a long time. I got so lonesome for her that I put her picture up on my crate, so she can look down on my with those gentle, soothing eyes. I sure miss her (and even the whole gang back at the Autumn View Farm). If you know anything about her, how she's getting on, you'll be sure to let me know, won't you?

Climate Change Solution?

I'm as scared about the warming planet as the next dog. It's hot enough out there, especially with all my fur. Now, I'm willing to do my part such as: only eating locally produced steak,chicken, and hamburger, going bye-bye only in hybrid cars, pass wind less often, personally pick through the garbage to cut down on refuse, and go pee-pee in the dark in the back yard. But I think these New Zealand researchers, Bob and Brenda Vale, are taking things too far, like suggesting that we dogs are the problem and we should be eaten rather than fed. That's going too far. What do you think?

http://www.theweek.com/article/index/102445/Climate_change_Time_to_eat_Fido

Say it ain't so, Bo

It's a sad state in this country. It's not enough that the media suck up to our president, and all those sycophants let him win at basketball, now even his own dog is taking a dive, letting the president beat him at football. Like that skinny wimp could score on Bo, if Bo hadn't let him.

And look at Obama grinning and gloating at his football prowess, thinking he's so great. Doesn't anyone have the nerve to tell him the truth, speak truth to power, that Bo's letting him win?

And what's with the leash on Bo in his own back yard. Very cruel, Mr. President, very cruel.

By the way, did you notice that Bo is looking a little chunky? Too much veal, no doubt. Doesn't his family coordinate his treats, like mine does?

Happy Birthday, Bo

Bo Obama turned one year old recently and had a big party. I was invited but elected to not go, choosing to nap, instead. But from what I heard, it was a wild affair:

We had a really sweet celebration," admitted Mrs Obama. "He got a doghouse cake made out of veal stuff and he had his brother Cappy come over and we had party hats."

I do get a little jealous, though. Here Bo is getting veal, which I never even had. All I get is bologna and hamburger and chicken and turkey.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/barackobama/6425473/It-is-not-a-dogs-life-for-Americas-first-canine.html

AP poll: Pet owners willing to go mouth-to-snout to save dogs

Important new study. All you humans should learn how to help us dogs, who are some of the most vulnerable beings.

63% of dog owners . . . would be at least somewhat likely to perform CPR on their pet.

I know my mommy and daddy would do this for me. And of course they know I would do it for them too. I wonder about you. Would your owner know how?

http://content.usatoday.com/communities/pawprintpost/post/2009/10/ap-poll-pet-owners-willing-to-go-mouth-to-muzzle-to-save-dogs-cats/1

Dodger blues

Am I blue?

Am I blue?

Ain't these tears in my eyes tellin' you?

Am I blue?

You'd be too.

Cause my team lost it all, now they're through.

There was a time I was the waggy one,

Now I'm the sad and droopy one.

Was I gay?

Till today?

Now they're gone,

Say so long,

Am I blue?

Woof, Woof Dodgers

Woof Dodgers woof woof woof woof woof. Woof woof woof home run woof woof woof woof woof woof woof! Woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof, poor Braves. Woof woof Dodgers woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof Manny woof woof woof woof woof.

Woof woof woof woof pitching woof. Woof woof woof woof Cardinals woof woof woof woof woof woof woof. Woof woof woof woof woof woof woof, woof woof woof woof.

Dodger Blue Mania

Can you feel it? I've waited a whole year for this, after last year's bitter, bitter defeat by those Phillies. All the dogs I know are super-enthused by the Dodgers, strutting and woofing all around their houses. Daddy even said he will let me stay up late to watch their games if they run long.

In honor of this great Dodgers season, I've changed my middle name to 'Manny.' So please, if you see me or write to me, call me 'Tommy M.'

Cockapoo Pride

Congratulations to PC, a cockapoo who came away as a big winner in Fanwood New Jersey.

A two-year old Cockapoo named PC won Best in Show at the annual dog show at The Chelsea At Fanwood. . . As the winner, PC earned an all-expense paid, one night stay at K-9 Resorts, an upscale pet borading business in Fanwood which features rooms instead of cages. Each room has a television and a bed.

It's about time we cockapoos got our recognition for being the high quality breed that we are. PC competed against several other breeds:

A total of 15 dogs were entered including Chihuahuas, Bijon Frises, a Greyhound, a Golden Retriever and various rescue dogs of [diverse] breeds.

I read that the Golden Retriever came in second. Second prize? Two nights at the K-9 Resorts.

www.mycentraljersey.com/article/20090920/GETPUBLISHED/909200324/Dogshowwinnerearnsabnightofluxury

WHAT? What's Going On Here?

Vick Set to Practice With Eagles

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/09/15/AR2009091503239.html

Why wasn't I informed of this? Surely this must be a joke, right? Those humans won't let him come back and play football, will they?

Can someone please clarify?

UD

Mommy and Daddy took me for a tour of the University of Delaware this past weekend. I liked it, though it is a little far. The new university president is making a concerted effort to improve diversity. Their latest numbers show a woeful lack of canine enrollment. I met with an admissions advisor who was impressed with my background. On the basis of my degree from UPS-FC, she offered me a free ride at Delaware for all four years, without even seeing my transcript. It's a good offer. And UD is reputed to have a young, but improving Canine Studies department. Their most popular offerings are in Napping and Fetching. I probably don't need much instruction in the former, but would benefit immensely from a series of classes in the latter. Well, I don't know, I don't want to commit too soon. I'll keep you posted.

Another Open Letter to Mommy and Daddy

I've had it and won't take it anymore. You have a very unhappy cockapoo, I'm sorry to say. Every day I observe a parade of delicious food march from the refrigerator to the table and watch as you gorge yourselves. I sit quietly at your sides, staring intently, often giving a brief, quick tail wag to ensure my wishes are clearly understood. Then finally comes my dinner. And what do I get? Kibbles, kibbles, and more kibbles. Does the steak ever land in my bowl? the turkey? the chicken? cheese? or how about the Honey Nut Cherrios? or waffles? No, no, no, no, no and no! Well, I've been Mr. Nice-a-poo for too long. I know my rights and I want some of that people food too.

I'm Feeling Better, Thank You

I've almost fully recovered and only slightly worse for the wear. As some of you know, I was sick late last week. I only wanted to rest, but for some inexplicable reason, daddy took me to that place with the other dogs and those sadistic people. I usually see the sadistic lady, but this time I saw a sadistic man. I tried to hide under the chair, but daddy picked up the chair, leaving me totally exposed for our latter day Dr. Mangele. He picked my up ruffly and then he poked and prodded and stuck his finger up my tush. Then he handed me over to his evil assistant, who stuck me with needles until I felt one of my well-chewed chew toys. Finally we left. How can daddy do that to me when I'm feeling so sickly? But then I started feeling better later in the day and even did my patented 'twirl', counter-clockwise, no less, for a piece of bologna. So you know I must have been feeling pretty good by then.

Back from my absence

Hey everyone. Wondering why I hadn't posted for so long? For some unexplained reason, mommy and daddy left me with a nice lady for a long time. Every time I tried to get on the computer to do some blogging, she scolded me and and said "no, no, doggies don't use computers" (technically not true, because we all know there is at least one dog who uses computers). But otherwise, she was real nice and let me sleep on the bed and all. She was home and played with me and took me for walks and was thoughtful enough to give me chicken-stuffed kongs for a treat each night (what a conicidence, just like home). Once she took me to the dog park, but I was pretty scared and she didn't take me back there. There were other dogs in her apartment to play with. There was the big golden-doodle, Bozo. He was a little too big to play ruff with, but we had some long, intense conversations. Then he left and a little doggie named Powder Puff came to stay with us. She was more my size and we played ruff sometimes. All in all, I had a good time and I was on my best behavior and had no accidents! And I overheard the nice lady tell my daddy that I was one of the best dogs who ever stayed with her.

Purrfectly pawsible explanation

Interesting story from the Sun Sentinel:

http://www.sun-sentinel.com/news/local/breakingnews/sfl-cat-downloads-porn-bn080709,0,6415792.story

But why won't the police believe his explanation?

MARTIN COUNTY - Martin County Sheriff's detectives didn't buy it when a 48-year-old Jensen Beach man claimed that his cat was downloading child pornography on his computer.Keith R. Griffin, of the 3600 block of Northeast Jeannette Drive, was charged Wednesday with 10 counts of possession of child pornography after detectives found more than 1,000 child pornographic images on his computer, according to a news release.Griffin told detectives he would leave his computer on and his cat would jump on the keyboard.When he returned, there would be strange material downloaded, the release states.Griffin was being held in the Martin County Jail in lieu of $250,000 bail.

Taco Bell Dog -- We Hardly Knew Ya

Gidget, the Taco Bell dog, one of my all-time favorite celebrities was euthanized, this week. She was 15 years young.

http://www.philly.com/philly/living/pets/20090722_ap_tacobelladstargidgetthechihuahuadiesat15.html

She was fiesty right up to the end, reportedly "otherwise in good health up to the day of her death, eating well and playing with her favorite squeaky toys ".

Gidget always held a special place in my heart, because like me, she "wasn't show quality . . . had an undershot jaw and huge ears".

Check out my new toys

My sister is gone so daddy said I can have her toys. You can see me here. I'm kinda "chomping at the bit" to get at 'em, but daddy is making me 'stay'. But then we played some tug-a-war.

Fireman kills pets to save on boarding!

Yep, you read that right: http://www.dispatch.com/live/content/local_news/stories/2009/06/25/fire_dog.ART_ART_06-25-09_A1_DSE9JB8.html?sid=101

A Columbus firefighter admits that he took his two dogs to the basement, tied them up and blasted them with a rifle so he and a girlfriend could vacation without paying to board the animals.

If I didn't read it with my own two eyes, I wouldn't have believed it. Common mythology has it that firemen and dogs are best buds, like the photo you see here. Well, apparently it's all for publicity and the firemen are bad, dog-hating people, even worse the president.

On a personal note, my mommy and daddy have gone away a few times, but never killed me to save on boarding. I get to go to that nice lady's house who walks me, and feeds me, and let's me sleep on her bed with my good friend Mini.

Hide and Go Sniff

That's the name of my new favorite game that my daddy invented. He hides a yummy treat, like turkey or bologna, and I have to go sniff it out. And when I find it, I get to eat it.

Sounds pretty easy, you say? Well go try it and then tell me. My daddy makes it real hard. He makes me wait in the dining room with the door closed and he goes into the kitchen and hides the treat in some pretty obscure places, like behind a leg of the bench, or near my toy basket, or clear over by the shoes. But no matter how well it's hidden, I don't give up and keep sniffing until I find it. So far, I've never been beaten at the game.

One time I bent the rules a little bit. While he was doing the hiding, I went around the other way, through the foyer into the kitchen. He yelled at me good and disqualified me for the rest of the day. So I'm gonna play by the rules now.

Thanks to My Grandma

My grandma made this food for me and it's delicious. She calls her secret recipe "Grammy's Pot Pie" and I gobble it up as soon as the dish hits the floor. These are the best kibbles I ever ate. I hope she keeps making it and sending up our way.

My Favorite President

I wish I had a slice of bologna every time I've been asked "Tommy, who is your favorite president?" So I'll take this opportunity to once and for put an end to this burning question. It should come as no big surprise to the astute reader that my farovite president is Jimmy Carter. After all, we are a lot alike. 1) We both spent time down on the farm in our youths. 2) We are both considered to be very smart -- by some estimates, Carter had the highest IQ of any president and as for me, well, with all due humility, how many dogs do you know who blog? 3) We are both big believers in rights, Jimmy for the human variety, I for the canine variety. You can even see from the picture here that Jimmy is against Apartheid. He thinks all people should be friends and live happily together and who can be against that? and 4) Perhaps most remarkably, both Jimmy and I are non-violent.

I'd like to address this last comparison at some length, if I may. It's well known that when I go to the dog park, I try to keep a low profile and stay away from the aggressive and mean dogs. If they want to play ruff and I can't get away, then I'll roll over. Well, it was no different with Jimmy. When as a boy he was on the playground, the bullies would come over and push him around and put gum in his hair. But Jimmy wouldn't fight. Instead he would cite some school resolution against gum or whatever and when that would produce riotous laugher more taunts, he would run away vowing to take his complaints to the principal. Pretty smart strategy I'd say. And when Jimmy became president, he stayed true to himself. When the Ayatolla metaphorically lifted his leg and pee'd right on Jimmy's pant leg (well, in actuality, the Ayatolla took some hostages), Jimmy didn't want to fight and tried to reason with the Ayatolla. When that didn't work, Jimmy went crying to the UN. I was a little disappointed to learn that Jimmy was finally goaded into a little fight, but of course his heart wasn't in it and it didn't go so well for the US. Finally Jimmy returned to form and vowed to go to his room (well actually the Rose Garden) and not come out until the Ayatolla released the hostages. And let me point out, Jimmy's strategy worked! After he was voted out of office, the Ayatolla agreed to return the hostages and who was the first to greet their return? Why none other than my favorite president.

So there you have it. I wonder who your favorite president is. Please feel free to comment.

No Pate for Me, Thank You

What do you think of this new study?

Study: Dog Food Tastes Just Like Pâté

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2009/05/01/tech/main4984433.shtml

It says that pate tastes just like dog food. Well no thank you. I'll stick with steak, hamburger, chicken, bologna, and bacon, please.

Andruw and Manny II

I'm sorry to say, just as I feared, I got myself in trouble with my brother because of my last post on Andruw (sic) and Manny. He's mad at me because I said I like Manny more. He e-mailed me some stuff about Andruw I neglected to point out. So I just want to set the record straight. My brother told me Andruw has all these 'gold gloves' and Manny doesn't. I guess if my brother says so, it must be true, he's pretty smart after all. But I'm not real sure how this helps play baseball. And why would Andruw need these things anyway? He played in Atlanta and Los Angeles and now he's been shipped out to Texas for one last gasp. These places are all real warm in the summer. Manny played in Boston and Cleveland, so maybe he needed some of those gloves more, but Andruw is the one who has them.

Oh well, I hope this clears things up between my brother and me. I'll be watching these two guys through the season and maybe report back on their progress.

A Tail of Two Outfielders

I sure dislike being in the middle of a family controversy like this. But I do like baseball, so here goes:



My daddy likes this outfielder, named Manny Rameriz. Manny has 536 homers, a career average of .315, a career OBP of .411, two world championships and is 36 years old.








My brother likes this outfielder whose name is Andruw. Andruw Jones has 373 homers, a career average of .260, unfortunately has never won the world championship and is, well, no one but Andruw and maybe his mother know how old Andruw really is.





I hate to say this, but sorry, big brother. I gotta go with my daddy on this one. I like Manny too.

I'm not bitter, really

When I first heard the news that the Obamas got a Portuguese Water Dog, I was shocked, it was like a dagger to my anal glands. After all, President Obama promised me he would get his daughters a small, furry cockapoo, with floppy ears and a short stubby tail (see my last blog entry). Obama does not seem like the sort of president to go back on his word. And we all know how badly Sasha wanted the cockapoo. Fortunately Sasha wrote me an e-mail to explain the whole thing:

Tommy,

You should know that daddy wanted to get the cockapoo. But then Uncle Teddy showed up at our door with this porty and forced us to take it. I didn't want it, but daddy said it would not be nice to refuse a gift from such a big man. I don't like the dog, but my bratty sister does. I hope you are not mad. Love Sasha.

In all honesty, Bo is a good looking dog . . . for a porty, that is. As disappointed as I was, I've been following the Bo story closely. Here, I found this good article:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/04/14/AR2009041402306.html

It does seem like Sasha doesn't like the dog so much. While Malia was giving hugs, Sasha could find nothing nice to say, and merely uttered: "He doesn't know how to swim!" .

As can be expected, Bo is exploring his new digs: Bo led the way, jumping and sprinting, with Michelle Obama firmly gripping the leash. Apparently, the White House lawn has many irresistible scents. The little guy found much to sniff . . .

Bo, let me offer some advice. I've been down there. There isn't too much to sniff. It's a very sterile environment, no other dogs around, so no dog urine or any other such alluring fragrances.

And did you notice that President Obama is still the dog hater: He will not, and the president left no doubt about this, be bedding down in the presidential bedroom. Asked where Bo would sleep, Obama replied, "Not with me."

I Will Survive

These famous words from the old disco song have real meaning for me right now. My nice family has given me away to another family. They just dumped me off with barely a good bye. My big sister didn't even come with me to wish me farewell. But it's OK here. I will survive. Tami, the new lady, treats me well. She feeds me and gives me my Kong with chicken and lets me sleep on the bed and all. So I'm not mistreated. And there are dogs to play with here, especially Mini. I'm a little scared of her, but not nearly as scared as I am of the shelties, but they mostly ignore me. I've grown quite fond of Bubba, the Beagle; we've become quite close. And I even have the opportunity to go on the computer, so I intend to continue blogging, for sure. But I miss my old family. Why did you give me away?

On an unrelated note, my pick of North Carolina in the NCAA tournament and subsequent recommendation to President Obama earned a glowing e-mail from the human Commander in Chief, a portion of which I copied below:

Dear Tommy,

I can't thank you enough for recommending the Tar Heels to me. Your pick enabled me to win our household pool. Sasha scored higher than I did, but picked Oklahoma to emerge as the champion. That was my opening, and North Carolina's win sealed victory for me. I can't tell you what a ride it's been for me. First the White House, now this! I should tell you that we all agreed that the winner of the pool has the right to select the breed of the new family dog (of course provided it can be rescued from a shelter). In honor of you, I will select the cockapoo . . .

Sincerely,

President Barack Obama

Poodles Rated #2

Check out the latest results from PetMD's list of the 10 smartest canine breeds in the world.

http://www.divinecaroline.com/article/22063/68520-boy--world-s-ten-smartest-dogs

We poodles came in #2 just behind the #1 Border Collie, at least according to this ranking. The Border Collie is a good dog, no question about it. But I wonder if the good folks at PetMD are truly disinterested. Or might it be that one or more of the PetMD folks have Border Collies of their own? Hmm. It's worth investigating. But in the meantime, we poodles will just try a little harder.

Bracket Update

Very exciting weekend in the NCAA tournament. Here is my big brother's bracket. It got busted a little bit. But he did well while it lasted. Unfortunately, all his teams are out now, but he made some noise while it lasted and he finished with a respectable 19 points. Better luck next year, Big Brother.

By comparison, here's my bracket. You can tell it's mine because I signed it. Daddy helped me make my mark on the page. But my paw got a little dirty and big sister snitched on daddy and me to mommy who got mad at us. As chance would have it, I'm doing a little better than my big brother. I have 48 points through the first two rounds and all my teams are left except for Wake Forest. I was impressed by their speed and depth, but unfortunately they were plagued by a couple of injuries I neglected to factor into my calculations. Anyway, I'm in good shape and have North Carolina winning it all. Incidentally, I got a call from President Obama last Tuesday as he was working through his brackets, and I had two words of advice for him: "Go Heels". Apparently he took it to heart and he too went with North Carolina.

B.B.B.

BIG BROTHER'S BRACKET

My big brother is off at his farm and said he wouldn't be able to complete his NCAA bracket this year. So he let me do it for him. That's a lot of pressure because he has always done well. I made all the picks (my daddy wrote them in) and posted it here, on my blog. I figured it was the best way to get it to him, and now he can follow along during the whole tournament and see how he's doing.

He has Maryland going all the way. I watched them a lot on TV and they won some big games down the stretch. I've watched the coach and he seems like he gets uncontrollably mad when they don't do well. So I figure the players will do good or else their coach may go berserk and someone might wind up dead. No one would want that.

And I picked some upsets, too, cause I heard there are a lot of them in the tournament. Like Morgan State to beat Oklahoma. OK, it was a sentemental pick because, you see, the school is close to my farm, Autumn View a few miles away in Mt. Airy. All the dogs on the farm, like Cody and Cherokee and Milk Toast and Gizmo, will be pulling for Morgan State, and so will I and now also my big brother.

And I picked Binghamton to do good too. My big brother visited there a while ago and he told me all about it. He said it was a dreary place and so I figure there isn't too much to do there if you're a basketball player but practice. So they'll be ready for Duke, I'm sure.

So good luck to my big brother.

Joyful Reunion

Yup, my big brother came home for a nice visit. It had been so long since he stalked me around the house, picked me up all the time and kidnapped me in the middle of the night. I almost forgot what it was like. And he took me for a long hike in the snow. It was fun, but when I got back, I had snowballs caked to my fur and daddy threw me in my crate to melt. It was lonely in there, but I understood. I thought my big brother was going to stay, but he said no, he had to go back to his farm. So we both laughed a little and cried a little and he pet me and said I was a good boy and gave me some treats. I looked up his farm on the internet. You see, it's in Arad and I found this picture. Doesn't look like there are any goats or cockapoos or dobermans. And the farm house doesn't look too cozy; it's all broken down and no roof. Not even any beds or couches to go under for a nap. What kind of farm is this?

House of Horrors for Sale

Check it out - Michael Vick's house is for sale. And what? No one wanted it? Well duhhh.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090310/ap_on_sp_fo_ne/fbn_vick_s_house

It's too freaky just thinking about it. Can you imagine what might have gone down in the inner bowels of that place.

I know some of you humans don't get my obsession with Vick. OK, let's put it this way. Remember Charles Manson? All you humans used to be obsessed with him. Real evil guy, or whatever. I'm sure he was (but I think he was good to his dogs). Well, what if Charles Manson's old house was for sale? Would you run off and buy it? . . . I didn't think so.

Seriously, can we talk dog food?

There's been a continual 'tug-of-war' in our house over the brand of dog food I like. Mommy, you insist I like the Pro Plan the best. But let me set the record straight. Cowboy Cookout (seen here on the left) is my favorite. I savor the tender kibbles. I won't eat it all at once, but slowly throughout the course of the day. I'm not crazy about the peas, corn, and carrots, but I know they're good for me in small quantities. So thank you to my daddy for getting it for me. The Prime Select lamb from New Zealand (pictured here on the right) is not as good. When it's put down in my dish, I eat all up as quickly as possible to get it over with, holding my nose the whole time. So PLEASE, I've been craving my Cowboy Cookout so much and it's been so long.

Congrats to Stump (for his partial victory)

I was riveted by the Westminster Dog Show competition last night and was thrilled when Stump, the Sussix Spaniel, was named "Best in Monobreed Show". You can see here, Stump is fine looking dog, just the right size, floppy ears, short stubby tail (remind you of anybody?). Yep, Stump is a distant relative if mine.

But it is a hollow victory. Because the WKC is a breedist organization, a vast number of the dog population has been excluded from competition. There should be a similar diverse breed competition followed by a dog-on-dog face-off. Only then could Stump be considered a true world champion.

And I'm not alone feeling this way. The PETA organization, a group I heartily support, protested the dog show. Look at this article. They even dressed up in funny costumes.

http://www.usatoday.com/sports/2009-02-09-peta-westminster-kkk-protest_N.htm

Summary Justice

Sad story, no doubt, what happened to this poor human baby:

http://www.wvec.com/news/topstories/stories/wvec_local_020209_child_pit_bull_bite_nn.10c29288.html

And if the dog really did it, he should be punished. But did he deserve this?

The dog was seized, euthanized and was being tested for rabies, although its shots were up to date.

No miranda rights read, no gathering of evidence, no arraignment, no trial. They took him out back and slaughtered him, and only THEN checked for rabies. Because it's a canine, it's shoot first, ask questions later.

OK, we're dogs. But we only ask for due process, the same protection all others are entitled to. I'm taking this to the CCLU.

My Band of Brothers

As you probably know if you've kept up with my blog, I'm considering a return to school to earn an advanced degree in Canine Studies. Then I met these brave soldiers and we developed this real esprit de corps; they treated me like one of their own and told me I'd make a great military dog. So I'm a little undecided right now. I understand RDTC is a viable option, but Georgetown U, my first choice, kicked the RDTC off campus last year, bowing to the demands of a vocal student minority. So what do you think I should do?

This Land Is Your Land, but . . .

It's not my land.

Congrats to Obama, major milestone for our country. But don't mistake the election of one particularly articulate man as an indication that all civil rights have been won and the battle's over.

I think most of you know that no dog has ever been US president. But I bet you didn't know that no dog has ever served as a member of Congress. In fact, no dog has even been NOMINATED for Congress on a major party ticket . . . ever. Recent population statistics place the canine population of this country at over 20 million, an extraordinary number that exceeds many other minority groups. Yet dogs continue to exist in unspeakable squalor and filth in percentages far exceeding any other group in America. There are countless documented cases of whining and crying all day in tiny cages not even fit for animals. Euthanasia is illegal in this country, that is, for those who have representation in government. But did you know that countless dogs are euthanized every single day, then cremated or tossed in unmarked graves?

Don't ask me to celebrate Obama's election while so many still suffer under the thumb of discrimination. How long are we canines to accept systematic disenfranchisement?

One Last Appeal

Dear Sasha, Malia, Michelle, and Barack (or is it Mr. President, now?),

I understand you have 'agreed upon' either the Labradoddle or the Portuguese Water Dog (I wonder how much Sasha's vote counted in your 'Democratic' household?). I can speak from experience that the labradoddle is a fine animal, and likely a distant relative of mine. (The Portuguese Water Dog? One you might happen to stumble across in a shelter? I don't know anything about the breed, but perhaps you can explain the qualities with your legendary soaring rhetoric.)

But I'd like to make one final appeal for the cockapoo. I attached this photo so you might picture what your lawn would look like with an actual cockapooo. All you have to do is imagine a doggie just like me ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FENCE. Can't you picture a small, furry, cockapoo with floppy ears and a short stubby tail romping, playing and fetching on that vast lawn? And how the tourists would 'OOOO' and 'AHHHH' seeing a cute little guy like me. I suggest you call down to the Autumn View Farm and have them send little cockapoo to a shelter so you can go rescue it.

Brrrrr

It was so cold this past weekend that I just wanted to stay in the house and snooze. By my daddy bundled me up and took me out to a park on the river for a long walk. You can see me here in my green jacket. Notice the river in the background is practically frozen! I don't usually like wearing my jacket preferring to go au naturale. But I was sure glad I wore it this day. It helped keep me a little toastier. He made me sit to pose for this picture and I didn't want to because my tush was real cold on the concrete. And he took more than one picture so I had to keep sitting and sitting. It was a long walk and I never could seem to warm up. We crossed a couple of streams and daddy carried me across, and this time I was glad he did. You see, daddy uses the stepping stones but I have trouble figuring them out so I usually just plod through the water. But by this time, the my paws were already numb from cold and no telling how bad it would be if I had to walk through that frigid water.

You know, in the end, I did have a good time. But I only hope for a little more warmth the next time we go for this hike.

My Continuing Quest for Knowledge

I guess the word is out. I've been quietly scouting institutions of higher learning, to continue my formal education. I plan to bolster my degree from UPS-FC with an advanced degree in Canine Studies. I've visited a number of campuses and intend to matriculate next fall. Here I am during my visit to Georgetown. Georgetown is reputed to have the top Canine Studies program in the Mid-Atlantic. So it's high on my list. I'd like to stay close to home, you know, so I can come home to a home-cooked Kong on the weekends.

Eight Crazy Nights

OK, I only got presents on one of the nights, but it was exciting nonetheless. Here I am posing with my new toys. I got a wrestling doggie and a platypus from my mommy and daddy and a rubber doggie from my aunt and uncle. I like the rubber doggie the best but they kept insisting it was the wrong toy. Dumb luck, I guess. My uncle was mean to me; he pushed me away and yelled at me and I was only trying to be friendly. But he made up for it with a nice toy. It squeaks and everything.