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.

New Year, New Look

HAPPY NEW YEARS to all my faithful readers.

I got a big fur cut this week. I posted some before and after pictures. I wonder what you think. Do you like me more with the stort fur or the longer fur? Personally, I like the short fur better, I feel more mobile. But my mommy and my daddy and my sister always like to say they like the longer fur better and can't wait for it to grow back in. My big brother? Not sure what he thinks because I haven't seen him in so long. I hope he reads this and let's me know.


BEFORE: At the Kennedy Center. I think this is the place where John Kennedy got his start. As the story goes, his dad had a lot of money and helped Johnny get into show business with a song and dance routine. People liked it so much they made him president. Then some bad person blew his head off.

AFTER: Just chillin' at home with my first squeaky toy. The froggy has been with me for a long time.

Puppygate

Joe Biden, the Veep-Elect, tried to do something good, something noble. He went out and got himself a nice new dog. But messed it all up and angered just about everyone in the process. Well, no surprise there, I guess. He went out and got this cute little German Shepherd puppy. That dog may look cute now, but it will grow to be a big, vicious dog, the kind who bullies others in the dog park. So, first off, why not a cockapoo, Mr. Biden?

He got the dog from a shady breeder, a Pennsylvania breeder who was cited several days later by the state Department of Agriculture for several violations, including a failure to produce proof of rabies vaccinations and maintenance issues. All the breeder could offer in her defense was a big “Oops,” insisting the records were lost the night before Biden’s visit as she was cleaning up.

http://blogs.dogtime.com/the-news-hound-blog/2008/12/biden-dog-a-puppy-mill-product

That angered a lot of people, but I think that's OK, it's like the same kinda place I came from . . no shame in that. But now he's all embarrassed and flip-flopping and says he's gonna get a second dog, from a shelter no less, like that's what he planned all the time:

http://www.ecorazzi.com/2008/12/22/joe-biden-to-add-second-dog-rescue-pup-from-shelter/

After coming under fire for buying a puppy from a breeder in PA (where violations have been cited in the past), Vice President-elect Joe Biden is vowing to add another dog to his growing family. This time, he’ll get one from a shelter. “We’re gonna get a pound dog that my wife wants,” Biden said.

And to make matters worse, Mr. Biden got the puppy to get a jump on the Obamas, trying to show up his new boss. Is this the kind of 'change we need?' Where's Hillary?

By the way, have you noticed, as I have, that the Obamas still don't have that dog?

Happy Birthday Big Brother

Happy Birthday!! It's hard to believe you're 133 today, and yet you don't look a day over 20. I hope the owner on that farm you're on remembers to give you an extra bowl of beef gravy.

Have you seen my daddy?

My daddy hasn't been home for a few nights. He is rarely this long away from me and I'm worried he may be lost or hurt or sick. He's not quite himself when he doesn't get the chance to chase me around the basement or scratch me behind the ears. If you've seen him or heard from him, please let me know. Or ask him to send me an e-mail.

Correction

I got a lot of feedback on my last post. Apparently, my readers are very passionate about the Civil War. Several of you noticed a small error, which I'd like to correct. The stone wall I referred to was not actually a stone wall, as reported, but was really a general named Stonewall Jackson. But he was so hard to get around that he was like a stone wall, get it? So the monument on the battlefield is not really a piece of him but rather just that, a monument. And come to think of, the nice park ranger probably never really said it was really a wall. I guess I was looking at the squirrels when she was talking about that part. The error was strictly my own.

Chancellorsville

What a whirlwind of history my family has been taking me through over the past few months. Here I am on the famous Chancellorsville battlefield, where a long time ago a lot of people fought with guns and cannons. So Tommy, what was the battle all about, you ask? I got a tour from a nice park ranger and learned all about it. You see, back in the nineteenth century, the people of the south part of the US held all dogs as slaves, and even some people too. And the people of the north didn't think that was right. So they had a war, called the Civil War and they fought some of it right here. The mean people from the south, who held all dogs as slaves and even some people did real good here at Chancellorsville and a lot of other battles. But you know how the south did it? They cheated. They did it with sneak attacks, like here at Chancellorsville, they didn't just come out and fight, but snuck around lots of bushes and trees and attacked the rookie guys on the right who weren't expecting it, rather than come after the real men of the north in the middle. And the north had this courageous general named Fighting Joe who wanted badly to get at those slave-holding people of the south but he never knew where they were so he didn't get the chance. But that was OK, because he brought his girls with him so it wasn't a total waste of his time.

And the south had this secret weapon, a big stone wall they would cart from battle to battle and the north couldn't get past it. But right here at Chancellorsville, the south soldiers, who weren't too bright, smashed up their own stone wall during this battle and there's just this little bit of it left you can see here and they left it here on the battlefield as a rememberence. It's so tiny now that no one would have any trouble just going right around it.

Well, even in spite of what happened here and a lot of the other battles, the north won and all the dogs and the people were freed once and for all.

Obama ruff ruff ruff Hillary!!!!

Ruff ruff Obama ruff ruff Hillary ruff ruff!

Ruff ruff ruff, ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff, ruff ruff ruff ruff. Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff.

Ruff ruff Hillary, ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. Ruff ruff ruff ruff.

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-obama2-2008dec02,0,3361992.story

Vick pleads guilty to state dogfighting charge

Good picture of the great human football hero.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/fbn_vick_dogfighting

The good news is Michael Vick is still behind bars. But he is plotting a return to human football, like he's all sorry and stuff. Oh yea? Well what do you make of this:

"Vick apologized to the court, his family and "to all the kids who looked up to me as a role model."

What, no apology to the dogs he harmed and their families? Some apology. He just doesn't get it, does he?

Let ME apologize, because I know I sound bitter, very uncharacteristic for me, such an otherwise sweet little dog.

Exciting Update

"Malia Obama has expressed an interest in a cockapoo . . ."

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/thedishrag/2008/11/president-elect.html

Yes, you read it right. Malia must have read my recent blog. You go, girl!

You really shouldn't read the article beyond the second paragraph. I almost regret posting a link to that article because it contains some breedest slurs of the most vile sort, hardly fit for polite society.

Open Letter for President-Elect Obama

Dear President-Elect Obama,

As you know, I was a supporter of your candidacy, albeit a soft one:

http://tommythecockapoo.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-endorsement.html.

However, I have two suggestions on important matters, which if you follow will turn my support to rock solid .

First, the breed of dog for your kids, perhaps the most pressing issue of our time. You promised in your campaign to change the tone of Washington. After of eight years of Barney as the poster dog for the Republican Attack Machine, who would bite any reporter he disagrees with, it is time for a kinder and gentler White House dog. My advice to you is: go with the cocakpoo. In all modesty, I've been told repeatedly that I have the classic cockapoo looks and I've highlighted the features in the attached photo: small, furry, with floppy ears and a short stubby tail (just click on the photo to get a better look where I've labeled each). And our fur doesn't shed, so Malia will not be achooing all the time - our fur stays very well contained on our bodies until that lady comes at us with her butchering scissors. And we are very gentle and incapable of hurting anyone so Sasha will not have to worry that one might bite her, even if she pulls our tail or hugs us too hard. Let me be perfectly clear, I'm not applying for the position myself. I like downtown DC and all, especially for sight peeing, but I'd be too scared at the White House and have all those strange people around all the time. I'm very happy here in McLean in this nice home and am quite content with my Kong snacks. But if you want one just like me, just go ahead and contact Autumn View Farm. They can set Cody and Cherokee on the job and because you will soon be president and all, you may even get the pick of the litter, even though they are probably Republican-leaning (just a guess here as I rarely discussed politics when I was down there).

Second, Hillary for Secetary of State. She will help repair and soften America's relationship with dogs all over the world.

The M-Word Uttered by Our President-Elect

This is what he thought would be funny, when speaking to the press about adopting a dog:

His family is looking for a dog that will not trigger his daughter Malia's allergies. Ideally, he said it would come from an animal rescue shelter, but "obviously, a lot of shelter dogs are mutts like me.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081107/ap_on_el_pr/obama

Shame on you, Mr. Obama. Even speaking self-deprecatingly.

And let me point out that he hasn't gotten that dog yet. We are watching you, and plan to hold you accountable to your campaign promises. Though at this point, I wonder what self-respecting dog would want him as an owner?

Watergate

This was a terrific sight-peeing adventure. We went to the Watergate, the Kennedy Center, and looked out over the mighty Potomac. Here I am at the Watergate Hotel. All you dogs out there are too young to remember the significance of the Watergate. It all went down when your great-granddads were still sniffing. But interestingly, some of the people I know are old enough to remember some of it. But because of their by now advanced ages, its all a fuzzy memory.

So I was in my cozy little annex, my brother's erstwhile closet, surfing the 'net, and did a little research on the subject. You see once upon a time, this funny-looking little man named Richard Nixon was president. Even though he had just about everything, he was president after all, he was kinda a kleptomaniac and not always very honest. He heard all these rich people lived at the Watergate Hotel, just down the street from his house (you know, the White House), and he couldn't resist. So one night Nixon busted into the joint and tried to rob some stuff. But he tripped the alarm on his way out and tipped people off. He was wearing a mask and all, but wouldn't you know it, he had pulled an old Halloween mask out of the closet and with his luck, it was A RICHARD NIXON mask, so everyone knew it was him. He went on TV and said he wasn't a crook, but no one believed him. So they kicked him out, all the way back to California, too far from the Watergate to be robbing it any more. I think even with his faults he was a good man. He even went on TV once and told everyone how much he and his young daughter Trish loved their little cocker spaniel Checkers. A man like that can't be all bad.

New Digs

Check it out. My sister and I turned this musty old closet into a cozy, little annex where we can blog, do homework, and just chill. I never really understood the point of this room. My brother, where ever he is, used to use it as his closet, throwing his clothes around and getting dressed in there. But now that he's gone, we are finally putting it to good use. Hey, one more thing. What's with the tattered old mouse in the corner? He belongs in my toy basket.

Where Was I?

Here I am, at George Washington's house. That's where I was. I was so excited when we got out of the car and I saw where we would walk that my bowels almost exploded.

This George Washington fellow was a rich guy and he got this nice house. You can see that he kept it up real good. He had so much money that he decided to build a big city just up the river from his house. And being a smart guy, naturally he wanted to build a great college in his new city, so other people could be smart too. They named both after him, Washington, DC and George Washington University. And everyone was so grateful for the good work he did that they made him president of the US.

Sorry, nobody won the chew bone. The photo of me in George's back yard was a tough one, I admit. I guess I will have to continue enjoying that chew bone myself.

End of the road

What a sad day. No joy in Dodgertown, no joy for Tommys the world over. First Hillary, now this. It's almost too much to bear.

Ahhh, Sight Peeing Again

OK everybody. I was out sight peeing again last weekend and what an adventure it was. Everyone was petting me and no one tried to bully me.

Who can guess where I am? I've got nicely worked-in rawhide chew bone for the first person who can identify this famous spot.

Answer in my next post!