Molly Mae is our September 9, 2012 Pup of the Week

This is one of the dog secrets that we don’t like to share with everyone.  When we walk in a human’s front door for the first time we are the most charming beings you can ever meet.  We know, in those first 24 hours, if we don’t screw this up, we are here forever.  We’re like a nervous frat pledge with a pretty girl, if we show nothing but our charming side, and keep buying drinks, we’re in.  Once we are in we can eat couches, pee, do all sorts of terrible things that frat pledges normally do, because when we’re in our parents don’t have the heart to send us out.

But sometimes being in that home isn’t the best thing for us.  Since all Moms are defenseless to our charm offensive, even when they know that finding another home for us is necessary, it still is a heartbreaking decision to decide we have to leave the home where we made everyone fall in love with us.

This was the decision that plagued our Aunt Trudee.  You all know Aunt Trudee.  Some of you know her as Tanner Bub’s Mom.  Others as Cocoa’ Puff’s Mom.  Some others as Angel Ruger’s. Maxx’s, or Molly Mayhem’s Mom.  We are here today to talk about what happened with Molly Mayhem.  

Molly came into Aunt Trudee’s life when she was on death row.  No one was stepping up to provide a home for Molly so Aunt Trudee did, except there was one slight problem, she already owned Max and Cocoa Puff.  There is a law in the land that Aunt Trudee lives in that you cannot be owned by more than two dogs.  But Aunt Trudee is a rebel who believes in agitating authority (I don’t know she got that from) and she decided saving Molly was worth the risk.  

Not that there weren’t problems.  Maggie was a runner and she was good at escaping scaring her Mom several times.   There was some fighting over Mom’s lap, a Dad who wasn’t really happy with three dogs in the house, and the constant fear that someone would report the extra pup and one of them would be sent to the pound.  Maggie also had enough energy to light up the entire house.  She had two modes, plays and snuggle, and Max and Cocoa couldn’t keep up with Maggie playing, and no one had enough laps for all three dogs.  Aunt Trudee started to realize that Maggie needed to be an only dog who had kids to play with.

The she talked to a friend whose family had just lost their pets recently.  They had two boys who longed for a young dog (Molly’s vet thought she was about two years old) who could keep up with and play with two young boys.   Aunt Trudee saw the family who needed a young energetic dog, and Molly, a young energetic dog in need of a family to play with, and she knew, while she had to make the heartbreaking decision, to see if the new family would give Maggie Mayhem a better home.

I will borrow from Aunt Trudee’s blog when she explained what happened when Maggie met the family.  “The family came up to meet Molly just last Friday. Instant love, no other explanation fits.
The faces. The adoration. It was so mutual. Can't begin to tell you. (she even found new snuggle kitties, hehe) Here's a couple of updates from the family from those first 2 days: "The boys adore her. She is so completely wonderful with a kind, loving & pure soul. We are so grateful to have her" and "She is doing great. She snuggled on the cats last night. It's like it was all meant to be".

Sometimes we walk in the door and it is forever home, and sometimes it is our temporary home, and it’s up to the Mom who lives in the house to make that decision, and then to make the right decision.  So we know Aunt Trudee misses Maggie and her heart aches, but she did what was best for Maggie, and she is a true great pup Mom.

I know you will thrive in your new home Maggie.  And you will never be forgotten but all those who love you.  

Cracking the Refrigerator Code

Since she was a pup I have noticed that Pocket, while seemingly very innocent, is, when determined, quite clever.  I have, sadly, had three sisters and a brother who went to the Bridge.  I loved them all, but in Pocket I saw a dog who might be able to solve the mystery of the most bothersome appliance in the house.

No, not the vacuum cleaner.  While I grant you the vacuum cleaner sucks, if we were to defeat it, while we would have the temporary reward of victory, we would more than likely get in a tremendous amount of trouble, and Mommy would just buy a new on the next day.

No, the real appliance of mystery is the refrigerator.  It is here where what we desire the most is kept.  Food.  And unlike a cabinet door it can’t be nudged open.  These appliances have been made dog proof because that’s the way the humans have wanted it.  
They have spent decades working on keeping us dogs out of their magical food storage unit.  They have spent years perfecting that white thing on the side of the door.  It’s only purpose is to make it impossible to open the door except by using the handle.  And they position the handle so high up that it’s impossible for a small dog to get to, and so close to the door that it’s impossible for a larger dog to get their paws around it.  I never thought we could crack it, until Pocket was born, and I started seeing things through her eyes, and realized, with years of planning, we could get that door open.

First Pocket invented these.  I know, we have never mentioned that Pocket invented this toy.  I know many of you have played with the toy, and enjoyed it, but it isn’t really a toy, it’s a tool.  What we needed was something long that could fit in our mouths.  We now pause until Brody’s Mom stops laughing.

The long snake toy is perfect.  But to do something as complicated as breaking into a refrigerator you have to be patient.  If we started using it for it’s true purpose right away humans would figure it out and take it off the market.  But now, since the humans think it is just an innocent toy, there is one in just about every home in the country.



Last week Pocket and I began to experiment getting the refrigerator door open.  I waited for a day when Daddy put us in the bedroom because Daddy does not really pay attention when he is shutting to door and it does not latch.  I am able to paw the door open and let Pocket out of her crate.  She picked the stuffless snake in her mouth and we walked into the kitchen.  She stood on her back legs but couldn’t reach the handle.  She then stood up on her tippy claws and was just able to get the tip of the toy through the handle  I then stood up on my tippy claws but my legs are smaller and I could not reach it.  I thought we were done but Pocket put her head under my butt and then used the strength she had built up from all those k9 kamps to lift me just enough that I was able to grab the tip of the snake with me teeth.  

I pulled it down until it was equal length with the snake on the other side.  Then Pocket and I each took an end in our mouths and began backing up and pulling.  It was hard to get traction on the linoleum but finally the troublesome white stuff on the door pulled away from the frame.  The door was open!  Pocket and I both ran for the door but it shut before we got there.  We determined that one of us, when we opened the door, had to stand with the snake in their mouth while the other explored what was inside.  We picked up the snake again, pulled, and this time we got the door open and I passed the end of the snake to Pocket who now held both ends.

I ran up to the refrigerator.  I looked in the door.  Soda (blech!) and beer (hmmm, but no opener.)  Everything else in the drawers were in plastic bottles.  Then I put my paws on the first shelf.  There was a drawer below us.  I tried to open it with my paws but could not do it.  Then I realized what I needed.  A butt scratcher.  Daddy uses it to get Pocket’s ball when it gets stuck under furniture.  I picked up the scratcher and put it in my mouth then walked back to the refrigerator.  This was very difficult.  I had to hold the non scratcher end in my mouth and then lifted it until it was under the handle of the drawer and pulled.  The drawer opened!  I scampered over and looked inside. .  It was filled with fruits and vegetables.  I lifted a bag out tore it open and shared a baby carrot with Pocket.  I liked them but Pocket spit hers out.

Then I put the carrots back and looked on the first shelf.  Butter:  no good.  Celery:  Blech.  What’s this in the bag here?   Oh my gosh.  The mother lode.  It was the bag of Kerri’s Kookies.  Pocket came running over and the door shut behind us but we didn’t care.   We enjoyed three cookies and Pocket reminded me not to over do it.  When our tummies were full we used the snake to open the door again and I put the Kookies back.  Pocket was now nervous.  This had taken a long time and she was afraid Mommy was going to be home but I wanted to take a look on the second shelf.  We got the door open, I peered up, and then I saw it, boneless chicken thighs.  I grabbed the package and pulled it to the floor while I heard a dog cry no.  I began to tear at the package while Pocket begged me to stop.  She said if we ate the chicken now Mommy would know we had defeated the refrigerator and not only would we cost ourselves another look inside but all our friends would never get in their refrigerators either.

It was one of the most difficult decisions of my life.   But I decided to return the chicken thighs to the refrigerator untouched.  We opened the door again.  I stood up with my paws on the shelf and Pocket ran up to me.  The door squished me a little but didn’t hurt.  Then we picked both picked up the package of chicken and replaced it.  I took one more look around the refrigerator, but there was only yogurt, cake, and other yucky human items.  We let the door shut.

We agreed to come back in a week.  If we took a little out at a time it might not be noticed.  Pocket also went back to the drawing board in her kitty condo to try and get to the top shelf, and, if at all possible, the dream of dreams, the freezer.

So now friends it is up to you.  I am afraid that smaller only dogs may be out of luck unless there is a helpful cat and trusting squirrel.  I do believe a big dog, if they move quickly, can both open the door and get to the food.  But don’t be greedy.  Take only a couple of items.  If the humans figure out we have cracked the refrigerator code they will go back to securing them again.

So be smart, and good luck my friends.

We are one step closer to ruling the world.

Hattie Mae and her Pack are our September 2, 2012 Pups of the Week

They say you don’t recognize a good thing until it is gone.  Even if the being gone is only for a short amount of time, your heart aches, you pant more, you lose your appetite.  Absence makes the heart grow weary.

This week we have been without the wit and wisdom of Hattie Mae, Jackie Lynn, Fella and Smartie and it has been a hard week.  Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if we knew they were away on vacation somewhere without the Internet, like the North Pole, but when it’s a vacation we know it will end soon.  When someone is hurt or injured and the return date is open ended it is so much harder.

None of us ever want to be put in a kennel when our families go away, but when our parents can’t take care of us because of illness we don’t know if we will ever escape this dark, dank place it’s so much worse.  And that’s where we are with the Hattie Mae clan.  In a dark, dank place.

Hattie Mae is the shining light of our group.  She is our everything diva.  She’s hard when we need a laugh and soft when we need a tender touch.  She’s the lollipop all lollipops want to be and the lollipop that the boys wish they didn’t have their nuts chopped off over.  And Jackie, who is learning so much from her, and Smartie and Fella are missed so much as well.

Many of you don’t remember life without Hattie Mae.  We first met her in the early days of DS.  But there were some mean dogs there and Hattie beat a hasty retreat.  When we took a short stop at a Ning site she joined then the bad dogs showed up again and she, and soon the rest of us, were gone.  When we started TB we tried and tried to get her to come here but she said that she was done with social networking.  Thankfully we wore her down and since then she has been  our ray of sunshine.

We have been lucky enough to get brief blogs from her keeping us informed of what is going on with her Mom.  Also there was the terrible scare when Lou ee thought he had stuffed her in a bag and killed her but like most celebrity death reports this one was a hoax.  Now if we can only get Lou ee to come out of hiding.
So we are hoping that Hattie’s Mom’s arm heals soon and we can have her back every day.  We need her sunshine in our lives.

If I haven’t conveyed it well enough let me just say Hattie, we are naming you and your clan Pups of the Week because we love all of you and we miss your witty quips, your kind words, your fabulous pictures, and the joy you fill our lives with.

Hopefully your Mom will be better soon.  Love to you all.

(A quick note on a sad subject.  Jack from Australia went to the Bridge this week.  He has been a TB member for some time but has not posted in a year.  Our thoughts and prayers are with his family.)

Ask Aunt Foley: Cat Infestation

Dear Aunt Foley:  I have had a recent infestation of cat in my house and yard.  The infestation spread from a neighboring home  The spreading began when for some inexplicable reason my Mom called the cat over to our house.  I do not know why my Mommy would do this.  She does not leave out plates of rotted food to attract rats or leave crumbs on the counter to attract cockroaches.  But she does not see this cat for what it is, an infestation that needs to be removed before it takes over the entire house.  I have tried all the accepted methods.  I give him an evil look and he just stares at me.  My sibling gave him a hearty bark no avail.  All remedies known to dogs have failed.  Can you help me?
A Ginger in Revolt

Dear Ginger:  As is often the case in infestation cases the problem is not with the infestation but with the actions of the homeowner.  Like someone with a vermin infestation who does not clean their house, your Mommy does not take steps to keep her house from being infested by cats.  Tell her that there are two important defensive steps a Mom can take to keep her house kitty free.  Firs is, under no circumstance, to either adopt or buy a cat.  Your Mom is doing a good job with this one.  The second is not to invite a cat into the yard.  She is failing on this step.  The other day Pocket and I were in our yard supervising our parents’ yard work when a kitty ran right across our yard not once but twice!  While Pocket and I barked at it like you and your sibling did, the difference was neither Mommy or Daddy paid the cat any never mind and it kept going right out of our yard.  So tell your Mommy unless she wants a kitty infestation she better stop inviting them (and vampires but that’s a whole different story) into her home.  Because once you got them you can’t get rid of them.

Dear Aunt Foley:  I live in Louisiana and we don’t have any dog parks here.  I would really like one but my Mom isn’t sure if she would take me to one if we had one.  How do I get a dog park and get my Mom to go.?
An Alpha in Need.

Dear Alpha:  What is a dog park but a place where dogs gather?  If Louisiana will not give you dog park than you should form one on your own.  This is my suggestion to you.  I am sure you go for walks and when you do you urinate.  Well us dogs, being an advanced species don’t just pee, we leave messages in our pee.  Then, when another dog comes along, it smells our pee and gets our message.  It is commonly referred to as tree mail.  When you pee out your tree mail set a date, a time, and a place to meet.  On that day, while you are walking, pull your human to that place.  When you get there you should find dozens of other dogs there.  Keep doing that everyday and soon your humans will decide that, since you are all meeting there anyway, they might as well fence it in, let you run loose and everyone can enjoy themselves.  So start peeing and soon you will be playing.

Dear Aunt Foley:  The other day I went with my human brother to help cut the lawn at our Granddad’s house.  I made sure he did all the mowing correctly.  Then when he was done I went and fertilized it for him.  And he got all upset with me.  Why do humans get mad when they mow a lawn and then you take a dump on it?
Confused Cocoa Puff.

Dear Cocoa Puff:  Oh that is one of the least likeable traits about humans.  When they do something they not only think that it’s perfect but they think it is going to stay perfect forever.  It’s the same thing if they washed the floor and then you walk on it with muddy paw prints and they are like ‘Hey I just washed that!”  Well what difference does it make?  You’re going to have to clean it anyway.  But it wasn’t like your human brother had to mow the lawn again.  And there is no better time to fertilize than when the grass is short.  Plus it is much better to vick on a freshly mowed lawn.  When you squat over it it tickles your butt  Tall grass, especially when wet, is no good.  And, if you had taken a vick on a mowed lawn or unmowed lawn he still would have had to clean it.  So just chalk it up to one of those strange mysteries about humans we will never understand and forgive him.  Hopefully he will learn better when he gets older.

Dear Aunt Foley:  Humans often ask each other the question boxers or briefs?
For us dogs the question is halter or collar.  I have always been a collar dog myself but when I went shopping with Mommy recently she started trying harnesses on me.
I was really annoyed but she wouldn’t stop doing it and since we were in the store I couldn’t raise a fuss without getting in trouble and thrown out of my biggest source for kibble.  Finally Mommy picked out a harness and put it on me.  While it is very handsome and makes me even more stunning than I was before I just can’t get used to it.  I am used to going bareback and not having my tummy strapped in.  Frankly this thing is driving me crazy.  Mom says she got it for me because I am going on a fishing trip in Wisconsin, can’t go off leash, and I cough when I am wearing the collar, which is true.  What do you think, should I wear the halter?
Befuddled Boris

Dear Befuddled Boris:  Like you I was a collar dog for years.  But also like you it led to me pulling and then coughing.  But whenever Mom put a harness on me I bucked or refused to move.  But then they found these nice soft harnesses and I have really taken to it (although the sound of velcro being ripped open below me still scares me because it sounds like someone ripping my guts out.)  I have seen a picture of your harness and it looks like a perfect nice one.  My advice is to wear it and soon it will feel natural to you and you will enjoy not being choked when you walk.  So harness up.

On August 26, 2012 (National Dog Day) we celebrate Social Networking Dogs as Our Pups of the Week

Last night I learned that today was going to be National Dog Day.  I had no idea such a day existed, and I’m a dog.  My reaction was hop skippity about darn time.  I prepared myself for breakfast in bed, a day of presents, a cake, and greeting cards I could put on the mantle in the leopard skin vagina kitty condo.

I got none of that.  In fact I even had to work today.  Pocket and I were put in the Monster Buggy and supervised as the lawn was mowed and the garden was weeded.  But I guess National Dog Day isn’t about presents, cards, breakfast in bed or cake.  (Although it would have been nice and not required much effort.)  It’s about celebrating all of us, and recognizing that we are on this Earth to comfort our chosen parents, to make them laugh, smile, and to feel like they are the most important person in the world.

There have been other excellent blogs today (paws up to Crystal and her young Mom on National Dog Day and I don’t want to repeat them.)  They concentrate on the million of wonderful things we do (in fact a million is just scratching the surface, we have things we can do we haven’t even used yet.  I will give you a hint, if there is ever an alien invasion, follow our lead and you’ll be safe.

Today I would like to write about something you won’t hear many bloggers says about National Dog Day:  Dogs have inspired the best social network sites on the Internet.

So many of us talk fondly of the old days of DS.  It is easy to look back on something and think it was better than it is today.  But for those who started on DS when some little guy in Virginia had a million dollar idea (although it never turned into a big moneymaker) for a social network site for dogs.  I first learned about it when I read a blog.

The blog wrote how silly it was that there was now a social network site for dogs!  Thankfully they provided a link.  We signed up right away.  Even though many geniuses have created thousands of sites it is the people who frequent these sites that make them special.  So take that Zuckerberg!

In those early days of DS no one really knew what the site was about.  Would it be from the parents’ point of view or the dogs?  We quickly learned that everything would be written from our point of view.  And that’s what made it wonderful.  Because people who all those silly stressful problems:  Work, money, kids, love, blah, blah, blah.

But, unless we were sick, our lives are simple and reading about them from our point of view brought as much joy as a puppy smile.  A good walk, a new toy, vermin in the yard, a car ride, these little stories made humans happy when they got home from their hard days work.

Unfortunately human problems kept creeping on to the site and some good dogs left, and off  shoot groups popped up.  Also hundreds of independent blogs appeared all with different perspectives and from all ends of the Earth.  On Facebook groups like  Doggyspace Moms, Doggyspace Group, Baron’s Buddies, and others the tradition and the friendship of the early days of DS carried on.

And us dogs have benefited from these groups.  We all eat better, are healthier, thanks to wonderfully generous pups and parents we have better toys, we are aware of food recalls, are aware of what illnesses to be aware of and how to cope with them.  If one of us is sick there are dozens of opinions to steer parents in the right way.  Since the creation of Doggyspace and the offshoot sites those dogs involved have never had a better life.

And behind all of this is us dogs.  The inspiration for it all.  Dogs so special that their parents want to write about them, post pictures about them, and be inspired by them.  And parents so wonderful that they want to make sure each dog is loved and receive the same care as the dogs they love.

And the poor pup who inspired this day, those that are locked in cages waiting for their forever homes, have benefited too, from all the wonderful adopted parents who have taught others of the joys of adoption.

So this is for us guys and lollipops, line up and take a bow my friends, it is our day.  And to our parents thank you for sharing our lives with so many wonderful people.  Also, on next year’s National Dog Day breakfast in bed would be nice.

To Combat DogShaming Foley Presents Human Shaming

As many of you know some human bereft of a sense of humor began a Dog Shame site where they make us pose for pictures next to a photo of something we have done wrong.
Here is an example featuring our friend Lou ee
The quip is written by his Mom to make fun of the fact that Lou ee, like Brody, eats everything in site.  Well, humans, Pocket and I have armed our bird friends with camera and have taken pictures of what our pup parents have done.

Let’s start with my Mom”
I was not able to put those little signs next to our subjects so the best I can do is put my own text below the pictures: “Sometimes I doze off and let my breasts drive.”

Sophie’s, Angel Molly’s and Angel Daisy’s Mom:  “I tried out for the road of Woody in Toy Story the Musical and thought the script said ‘I have a snake in my booty.’”

Hobo Hudson’s Dad:  “I thought I had tapped an oil well but was shocked to discover it was a different type of bubbling crude.”


Chelsea’s and Ashton’s Mom:  “I only shower when thunderstorms come rolling through then remove clothes from the clothesline to cover up.”

Leo’s Dad:  “Before I take Leo for a walk I like to align my balls.”

Shiloh’s (from Washington) Mom “I will do anything for a Big Mac.”


Romey’s Parents:  “Even though we aren’t married yet we still get frisky.”

Brody’s Mom:  “Each morning I spend a half hour trying to put my head up my own ass.”

Hattie Mae’s parents:  “I hurt my wrist playing Twister on ice with my Elvis.”  

Rock’s Dad:  “I have all my furniture within six inches of each other so if I pass out on one I can land softly in the next.”

Lou ee’s Mom:  “I work out.”

Angel Sierra’s, Tiger’s and Nase’s Mom:  “I am riding my bike because I broke my horsie.”

Chappy’s. Whiskey’s and Blue’s Mom:  “I put myself through school shoving weenies in my mouth.”

Sandy’s, Nikii’s, Bear’s and Maggie’s Mom:  “I don’t respect society’s views of PDA.”

Tasha’s and Tiara’s Mom:  ‘To relax I put out a spread of bacon for my girls and let them go to town.”

Mrs Sophie Bub’s, Koda’s, Wills’ and Josie’s Mom:  “My butt killed Kenny.”

Pocket Goes on the Maury Pupvich Show to Find out Whose her Daddy

Like all pup siblings Pocket and I are sisters from another father.  I know who my pup parents are, two Yorkies who got it on behind a barn in upstate Massachusetts.  I was conceived in the exact same fashion that Elizabeth Warren was.  But Pocket was conceived in a house of confusion.

The human pup breeder where Pocket was found was taking care of her ill husband at the time of Pocket’s conception.  She had a doggie door to go outside and do her business.  The breeder Mom, busy with her husband, did not supervise the lollipop doing her business.  At one of these business sessions she did more business than just business.

Since that day the identity of Pocket’s Pa has been a mystery.  To help her I signed her up for the Maury Pupvich show, a special edition called “Who’s Your Daddy, Bitch.”  Pocket was reluctant to go on the show but I told her she would be thank me later.

This is what happened:  

Maury Pupvich:  Welcome to the Maury Pupvich show Special Who’s Your Daddy Bitch edition.  Let me bring out our guest Pocket Dog.  

*Pocket comes out and climbs into a chair next to the host.*  

Maury Pupvich:  Are you excited to find out who your Daddy is Pocket?

Pocket:  Not really.  My sister needs to write a blog and was out of ideas so she set the whole thing up.

Maury Pupvich:  Well we are just as excited as you are.  Now let’s bring out your birth Mom.

*An older female Yorkie with Pocket’s coloring comes out.  After several attempts she jumps into the chair.*

Maury Pupvich:  Pocket do you recognize your Mom?

Pocket:  Well not at first but when she jumped I got a good look at her teats and said “Momma.”

*Pocket and her Mom licked one another as the audience pawed and howled.*

Pocket’s Mother:  Pocket I have read so much about you and I am so proud of you.  Are you housebroken yet?

*Pocket blushed.*

Pocket:  Did you bring my father;?

Maury Pupvich:  That is why we are here Pocket.  We have four male pups who had relations with your Mom before she became impregnated with your litter.  Now who wants to meet the Dads?

*The audience howls*

Maury Pupvich:  We have taken DNA from the following four dogs and, at the end of the show, we will reveal which one of these dogs is Pocket’s Dad.  Now let’s bring out the first possible father.  He is a well known weed eater, a popular howler, and has been known to have a way with the ladies, it’s Snoop The Dog.”

*A Yorkie with dark fur and big ears came out slowly and jumped on the chair*

Maury Pupvich:  Snoop, do you recognize Pocket’s mother?

Snoop:  “Yo, you know, she’s a fine lady a all but you know I ain’t one much for leashes and collars, I just travel where the scent takes me, and I’m not so good at remembering faces.  You know I’m freaky but doing it face to face?  I’m not big on doing it human style.  But she’s got a nice rump end so I could see myself tapping that you know?

Maury Pupvich:  Were you wearing protection?

Snoop:  Well I think I had on Frontline but outside of that, I don’t wear no protection, no shock collar, no muzzle, I just like it natural you understand?

Maury Pupvich:  And if you are proven to be Pocket’s father are you willing to support her?

Snoop: Well you know, I might take her out to chew some grass, look up at the sky, but I’m not sharing no kibble here.

Maury Pupvich:  Pocket do you have anything to ask?

Pocket:  Would you take me to the park and play ball with me?

Snoop:  I might chew some weed while you did ya know, maybe hook up with some new booty.  You don’t have any weed do you?

Pocket:  No I don’t.

Snoop:  It’d be a lot cooler if you did.

Maury Pupvich:  Now let’s bring out our second potential Dad.  He was found on the Jersey Shore and is named The Suppository.  

The Suppository:  Hey, how you doing?

Maury Pupvich:  This is Pocket’s mother, do you recognize her?

The Suppository:  Hey, you know I get a lot of tail, what can I say?

Pocket’s Mom:  You hopped a fence and seduced me with a meatball and your garlicy breath.  I couldn’t resist.

The Suppository: Hey I don’t know nothing about that you know.  Maybe I was there maybe I wasn’t.  I don’t keep a record you know what I mean?  You know it’s about GTL for me:  Greenies, T Bones and Licking.

Maury Pupvich:  Are you willing to accept your fatherly duties if you are Pocket’s father?

The Suppository:  Fatherly duties?  Hey I don’t know, you know what my father’s duties was?  I bark something out of line he goes badabing upside my muzzle.  You know?  Forget about it.

Maury Pupvich:  Let’s bring out our third candidate.  He is a well known Yorkie Lothario, Don Juan DeYorkie.

*A very handsome Yorkie came out, bowing to the crowd, and hopped up on the couch.*

Maury Pupvich:  Don Juan, do you remember Pocket’s Mom?

Don Juan:  Oh of course I remember her.  I remember her squatting in the moonlight looking like Mona Lisa taking a whizz.  From that moment I knew there was amore between us.  I mounted and did the sexy time to her many, many times.

Maury Pupvich:  Pocket’s Mom do your remember Don Juan?

Pocket’s Mom:  Oh yes, yes I do, are we going to go to a commercial break soon?  Maybe Don Juan would meet me behind the couch.

Pocket:  Mom!  You’re embarrassing me!

Don Juan:  Oh Pocket amore is nothing to be ashamed of.  It is the most beautiful thing a dog can do.  That’s why the humans call it mounting.  They mount their possession on the wall.  I take a little hair from the tail to have a possession of what I mount.

Maury Pupvich:  Is it possible that you are Pocket’s Dad?

Don Juan:  Oh of course, I have fathered a Disney movie worth of babies, all so beautiful it’s like have a Picasso come out of your vagina.

Maury Pupvich:  Pocket, out of these three dogs which one would you want to be your Daddy?

Pocket:  I don’t need any of these dogs.  I have a Daddy.  He’s home and he plays ball with me and let’s me lick his face.

Maury Pupvich:  That’s great, I was rooting for Don Juan too.  But you have not met the final dog, Whit Trash.

*A Yorkie staggered out, needing a grooming, and smelling poorly.*

Don Juan:  I do say, someone should open a window.

*Whit didn’t try to jump up on the couch, he lay on his side on the floor*

Maury Pupvich:  Whit, do you recognize Pocket’s Mom?

*He looked up lazily.*

Whit:  I ain’t never seen her before, I wasn’t there that night, I was at the pool hall, I’ve been fixed.

Maury Popvich:  Pocket’s Mom do you recognize Whit?

Pocket’s Mom:  Yes I do.

Maury Popvich:  And did you have relations with him?

Pocket’s Mom:  Well, one night I got loose, and he was in the woods behind our house with some smooch hooch and I guess I had a couple.  I don’t really remember what happened but yes we had relations.

Pocket:  Oh Mom, gross!

Pocket’s Mom:  Don’t judge me girl.  You don’t know what it’s like walking around with hot ovaries.

Whit Trash:  *Belch*  That wasn’t me.  I haven’t made no babies.  I was working in the junkyard that night.  The kid don’t even look like me.

Maury Pupvich:  Pocket how would you feel if Whit was your Dad?

Pocket:  I would start playing ball in the street.

Maury Pupvich:  Well, I don’t want to keep you waiting I do have the results of the DNA tests, and I can tell you that Whit, you are not the father.

Whit:  Thank Dog!

Maury Pupvich:  And Don Juan you are not the father.

Don Juan:  Oh so sad, I am a magnificent breed.

Maury Pupvich:  And The Suppository you are not the father.

The Suppository:  Yo, I told you, no way.

Maury Pupvich:  And Snoop *long pause* you are not Pocket’s father either.

*The crowd howls.*

Maury Pupvich:  And Pocket’s Mom, you’re a hound ho.  But don’t worry Pocket, we will still be looking for your Dad.

Pocket:  I don’t want to look for my Dad anymore.  I have a Dad, he’s round, he’s slow, and he’s lazy but he loves me, plays ball with me, walks me and snuggles with me.  I don’t need to know who donated the spam to my Mom to make a litter.  I know who Daddy is through love.

Maury Pupvich:  That’s beautiful Pocket but it makes a sucky show.  Now, before we go, I would like to give Don Juan, Snoop, The Suppository, and Whit their gift for being on our show, it’s Bob Barker in a mobile neutering truck.

*All four male dogs begin barking and running, trying to escape but they are all wrangled and taken to the truck.*