As always these are actual questions from actual dogs unless we made them up:
Dear Aunt Foley:
I'm a young BLOB and have been in my forever home for six months now. Before that I lived in a shelter for six months, after being found as a stray at the tender age of three months! Life is easy now, but my pawrents don't like it when they let me out when it's cold, tell me "go to it" and I'm out there for 5-10 minutes, spend time behind the "privacy fence" where there's a notable collection of dog leavings, and then I come in where it's warm and piss in the living room (if I come in and poop, I don't get caught because my big sister eats the evidence). I've got almost no hair, compared to my sister, and it's awful out there, deep snow, or melting, my feet sink in and I'm up to my you know what, if I squat, it's frostbitten toosch! Why don't they understand how that cold just puts me off task? THEY don't go out in the freezing cold!
Little Sadie
Dear Little Sadie:
Oh my gosh you sound so much like my little sister Pocket, except for her big sister (me) eating her poo. (Editor's Note from Pocket Dog: She eats poo like a dog who has just got done running the Iditarod eats a steak.) I am like you that when I go outside, no matter how cold it is, I can mill around, find stuff to sniff, but I do my business. Pocket sometimes does her business, sometimes doesn't but either way she can still come in and piss on the rug. Just today Daddy came home, called her name while holding her leash, and she ran under the table and peed. And it wasn't even cold out. Some say you should praise and give you a treat as soon as you go. But Pocket is now three, and in excitable times she even has to wear a diaper. My parents have tried and tried but she just doesn't get that outside is for peeing. If I were you I would keep doing what you're doing. It is cold and you don't want a frostbutten toosch. Your parents love you and they will soon learn to love you interesting personality, that includes a little liquid on the floor.
Dear Aunt Foley
I have a sister. She always dresses up. She looks very pretty. She gets lots of baths and she smells nice. Lately I've been wondering what she tastes like. I didn't tell anyone this. But the other day I was getting already to snap up a bite of her, Mommy took a picture, and I got caught. I tried to say I was just yawning but nobody believes me. Plus, I still wouldn't mind a taste. What should I do?
Fella
Dear Fella
I can tell you what my sister Pocket tastes like. Chicken. But you can't bite your sister. First of all Hattie Mae is a doggy fashion icon. She is worshiped. Secondly your mommy will be very mad if you bite Hattie. And finally, she is a Jack Russell Terrier and while she may look tame those things can go from zero to mean in like three seconds. So I have to advise you not to bite your sister. If you want, the next time I bite Pocket I will spit it out, put it in an envelope and send it to you.
Dear Aunt Foley
I love to play with my stuffies. I shake them. I throw them up in the air the and catch them. I push them around the room so they move then pretend I am jumping on them . I shake them like they are vicious prey. Is there anything wrong with this behavior or is it normal? My brother Sandy says I'm being silly. I say he's a grouch. Who's right?
Maggie
Dear Maggie
I am an older dog and I say shake away. I love to grab one of my stuffies and shake it up like I'm a hunting dog going in for the kill. It keeps our instincts strong because you never know when the living room will be overcome by critters. As for Sandy I understand he is older, and he has some leg problems that cause him pain so this could be why his attitude about playing is a little off. Maybe when he comes around he will feel better. I enjoy playing with toys that have my sister Pocket's spittle on them. That means I wait for her to play them, then distract her, and steal it. She then sits there crying like a chimp who lost her banana. Pocket mostly chases her ball and brings it back. I don't understand that at all. She's like that giant human in the commercials. She chases ball and brings if back. She chases ball and brings it back.
Dear Aunt Foley
Today I went to the vet. I am a very young seven year old dog. But the dogtor called me a "Senior" dog. How often does this happen to humans? Do human women go to their doctor and at the age of 40 told they are Senior Citizens? And if the doctor did this what would the response of the humans be? And what, if anything should I do to this bad dogtor?
A very angry JuJu
Dear Very Angry JuJu
Let me guess. This must be a male dogtor. I can't see a female dogtor saying such a thing. This dogtor needs a much better dog side manner. I am ten and I am not a Senior Dog so unless you are aging backwards in a Benjamin Pitt sort of way I have no idea how he could call you Senior. If this happened with a Mommy and their doctor, the Mommy would kick the doctor right in the boolahlah. I wouldn't do any nipping or growling, because he who has the anal thermometer has the upper hand. There is only one weapon we dogs have and that is the fart. Next time you go to your dogtor and he starts probing the anal end let out a nasty fart you have been building up for weeks. The worst that will happen is that you will have to go on medicine a little bit, and maybe that dogtor will think twice about who he calls Senior.
If you have a question for Aunt Foley either leave a comment at the end of this blog or send it to Foleymonsterandpocket@gmail.com
thanks for my first out-loud giggle of the day, aunt foley!
ReplyDeletealeksandra
Ok I am down with all other stuff, but that eatin poo bit.... yuuuck. Maybe it is because I am prissy enough to have a hissy if anything like schmutz gets on me... I don't know... maybe because momma can bring the devil voice on that says LEAVE IT and scare the heebe jeebes out of me...but I have never done the poop eating bit. I have shaken a few toys into oblivion... puddled on a few things... and nipped or tried to nip my Wendy....but that is all....
ReplyDeleteoh my, that was the best Q & A session ever! And I love that picture, because my spaniel Kelly perches up on the back of the couch like that. I tell her that is what cats do. Maybe she'll be writing you a letter to complain about my comment soon.
ReplyDelete