Sunday, June 28, 2009

Where Mark Sanford really was

It happened so quickly the distinguished gentleman in the velour jogging suit was taken completely unaware, which is exactly how Foley had planned it. He did not think it unusual that the treeing walker hound had come out of the woods next to him, probably just a stray hunting dog.

He became a little more nervous when, from the other side of the woods, a pug-pit-boxer mix joined him. They weren’t nipping at him, but they were squeezing him, as if they wanted him to trip. He yelled shoo at them, and tried to slap them, then looked up to see a Mountain Cur headed straight for him.

He tried to slow down, to stop, as he was sure the large dog would run right through him, but at the last second it jumped, hitting him in the chest, and knocking him to the ground. His head hit the ground, and the wind was knocked out of him, and when he opened his eyes there was a group of dogs standing over him.

“Take his feet and lift them,” one of the smaller dogs, a Yorkshire Terrier, said. The man was pulled along the ground by the treeing walker and Mountain Cur who lifted him a few inches off the ground on a small platform with wheels underneath. “Now everyone push!” the Terrier said.

The dogs behind him began to push him along the path, which led to a steep drop, and suddenly he was speeding down the hill and he looked up to see a large crate ahead of him and the cart crashed into it and the cage door slammed down behind him. A little Shih Tzu then began running around the cage barking.

“Good job Gracie! Good job!” the Terrier, of course, Foley, said running towards her and giving her a kiss on the head. “Teddy would be so happy to know his transportable human crate is operational.” The man tried to kick the door open but Teddy had built it like a fortress and the man was trapped.

“Let me out of here!” the man demanded. “Do you have any idea who I am?” he asked. Foley stood in front of the crate. “You are Governor Mark Sanford of South Carolina. I am General Foley Monster of the Tanner Brigade.”

“I am not going to be held prisoner by a bunch of talking dogs!” the trapped Governor shouted.

“Oh you are not our prisoner Governor, you’re just an unclaimed pup, stuck in a kennel, night and day, like those poor puppies in Holland Belu’s pens. You see our Mommies and Daddies have sent you e-mails, phone calls, done blogs and columns about how inhumane that kennel is, and you ignore them, so now you can find out how it is to be one of them,” Foley said calmly.

“People come running on this path all the time,” he said. “I’ll be found within the hour.”

“Oh we’re not leaving you here Governor, there’s a barn a little way in the woods, that will be our person shelter, and we’ll see if any dog wants to come by and adopt you,” Foley said.

With those words the Malatesta gang began to push the cart towards the barn. The Governor shouted and cursed like a hound dog being left at the kennel until we came to the barn. “You dogs are going to be in so much trouble,” the Governor told us. “I am going to be missed.”

“Wishbone?” Foley asked. “How long is it going to take people in South Carolina to notice their Governor is gone?”

“’Bout a week,” Wishbone said.

“But don’t worry Governor, you will only be here until a dog adopts you,” Foley said.

“Well that shouldn’t be long, I am a very sweet a lovable Governor.”

“Yes, but according to Holland Belu you have to be neutered before we let you be adopted.”

“Neutered,” the Governor said shocked. “How do you plan to do that?”

“Pepsi with hedge clippers,” Foley told her.

“What’s a Pepsi with hedge clippers?”

“You don’t want to know Governor,” Foley said then left him out in the hot sun. The Brigade spent the day in the barn, sleeping in the hay, while the Governor had no food and muddy water to drink.

As night fell he had some slop poured into his crate to eat. He thought it was disgusting, but he was so hungry he would eat anything and gobbled it up with his hands.

That night a beautiful chocolate lab came to Foley and said he would adopt the Governor. “I can’t stand to see anyone suffer like that,” the lab said.

“Well let’s go see how the Governor feels about you adopting him,” Foley said and together they walked out to the crate.

“Would you like to be adopted by this fine dog here?” Foley asked.

The Governor was at the edge of the cage, his hands excitedly scraping the side, his mouth open, panting, begging to be taken. “Just give me a nod boy,” Foley said. The Governor nodded.

“OK all we have to do is get Pepsi to do the neutering,” Foley said. The Governor went to a corner of the cage cowering.

Foley and the Lab walked back into the barn and Foley told him he was grateful because he didn’t want to leave the man there any longer. Cruelty, while easy for men, was difficult for dogs. “You just need to do one thing,” she said. “For the next six days take him around to every puppy mill and kill shelter in the state, and then, on the seventh day, tell him to hold a press conference denouncing shelters and mills everywhere.” The Lab said he would do what he could.

“There is one thing you need to do,” the Lab said, “call Pepsi off.”

Foley laughed. “Pepsi knows I was kidding,” she said.

Then they heard the Governor screaming and a beagle barking and Foley said “oh cripes,” and they ran outside to see Pepsi with the sheers in her mouth trying to castrate the Governor and it took them several minutes to get her to understand Foley had been kidding.

That morning the Lab took the leash in her mouth as Foley placed the collar around the Governor’s neck and the Lab began walking the Governor down the road. “Don’t forget, we’ll be watching for the press conference in a week,” Foley said.

The Lab looked back and nodded.

Six nights later Foley and Pocket were sitting on their balcony with dental bones in their mouths and licking a Frosty Paw when Oprah was interrupted for a press conference from Governor Mark Sanford.

“Here we go,” Foley said excitedly. “Ready to put down puppy mills and kill shelters.”

But that’s not what the Governor said at all. He said he was in love with someone from Argentina and had cheated on his wife with them. He then showed his love’s picture. This picture.

Foley and Pocket sat stunned. “Do you think he knows Luca’s a boy?” Pocket asked.

“Worse than that do you think he knows he’s neutered?” Foley then took a lick of her frosty paw. “Of course to Republicans it probably doesn’t matter, neutered, not neutered. Boy/girl.”

Pocket nodded. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Pocket said.

“Of course not, a person has the right to believe whatever political views they want no matter what they are,” Foley said.

“My father’s a Republican,” Pocket added.

Then a woman’s voice came from downstairs. “Foley, I don’t like where you planned to put the crooked houses for the children!” Kate yelled.

Foley groaned, then climbed under the blanket to hide while Mrs. Gosselin came looking for her.,

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

My Fair Princess Part III

Pocket was sitting on the couch looking out the bay windows at nothing in particular and nervously growling at the leaves stirred by the slight breeze.

I came down the stairs, looking spectacular, wearing one of Bauser’s Tanner Brigade bandanas and a beautiful bow in my hair. Pocket looked at me and groaned. “Oh what is your problem?” I asked her.

“I can’t believe you are escorting Princess to Magoo’s party,” Pocket said. “Our friends will never bark at us again.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “Our friends will hold us in an even higher esteem when they see how I have transformed her.”

“And you can put a bill on a frog but that don’t make it quack,” Pocket said jumping off the couch and running upstairs while I wondered why Bill would want to sit on a frog.

We left the house together. Princess was being taken there in her chariot, which Pocket said would go over like a fart under a blanket on a muggy July night. We saw the sinister Chihuahua sitting in her window, and we both stopped and shook our rumps at her as she howled in protest.

We arrived at the party and we both gave Magoo a kiss and a pair of peanut filled kongs which the birthday pup was very thankful for. Hobo Hudson sauntered up to us and asked: “Hey Monster, rumor is that you’ve invited Princess to the party.”

“That’s right Hobo, but not the Princess you remember, a new Princess, one who will fit in fine with all us regular pups.” My thoughts were interrupted as Princess’ trumpeters began to play her fanfare.

“Obviously Foley, once again you have worked your magic,” an overly sarcastic Hobo said. I ignored his witless gibe and hurried over to Princess who was standing, one paw up, tail held high, waiting to be escorted into the gala.

“Princess, what did I tell you about the trumpets?” I asked.

“It’s the only way I know when to get out of the chariot,” she said. “If the music doesn’t play I just sit there like a turd at the bottom of a bowl.”

“Well Foley Monster you have worked wonders with her vocabulary,” Zoe Boe said. I smiled at her and began escorting Princess through the room. My strategy was to spend as little time as possible with each individual dog, then move on before Princess’ new found charm wore off.

Then I saw her, charging across the dance floor, Mrs. Sophie Bub. “Princess did you see the ice sculpture of Teddy Earnest?” I asked trying to steer her in the opposite direction, but it was too late. Sophie pounced on her. “I want to know exactly why you tossed my poor husband Tanner Bub out of the kingdom just when he got sick. What kind of dog are you?”

I took in such a deep breath I was afraid I would give myself the snorts. We had practiced this for days, the measured, sincerely sorry response, but now, faced with an angry Mrs. Bub, would Princess remember her teachings?

“I have reconsidered my decision concerning Tanner and I think it is possible I may have acted hastily,” Princess said. I smiled, all my work coming to fruition. “In fact I can say with certainty that is was wrung.”

“There Sophie she said she was wrong,” I said leading her away.

“Actually Foley,” that buttinski Hobo said, “she said she was wrung.”

“No Hobo,” I said unable to hide the impatience in my voice, “she said she was wrong.”

“I think it was wrung,” Pocket said grinning.

“Me, too!” Sophie said. “She said wrung!”

“Wrong, wrung, what’s the difference!” I said pulling her away. “She said she was something that began with a w, ended with a g, had an r and an n in it and a vowel in the middle, let’s just move on,” I said pulling Princess but she was stubbornly holding her ground.

“So Hudson,” she said as I muttered an “aw geeze!” “I read your fairy tale, very entertaining, but not based in reality at all. And certainly not something apropreate fir a dig rescue sight.”

“Apropreate fir a dig rescue sight?” Hobo laughed. “I definitely think it was ‘Apropreate fir a dig rescue sight,’ I think the only thing not ‘apropreate fir a dig rescue sight is you!”

“Hey Hobo!” I whispered, “there’s half a steak in it for you if you back off.”

But Hobo was the least of my problems when I saw Erin making a bee line for us. “Have you adopted any of my suggestions?” she asked.

“Such as?” Princess responded.

“Not only doing updates for your paying memberships but updating the site for non paying customers too. Give away something for free,” she said.

“Give away something for free?” Princess laughed. “Somewons made too many tripz to the punch boal!”

I thought things couldn’t get worse. And then they got worse. Crossing the floor, in a beautiful dress and matching hat was Hattie Mae. “You no good no goodnick!” Hattie Mae said to her.

“Hattie Mae!” Princess laughed. “Ew am I supissed tu bee mud? Hah! I’m nut afrud of you, or any of ewe, I’m glud you’re off my sight and I the onely the thit makes me wush ewe were is so I can dilute you all over……..”

Suddenly the ice sculpture of Teddy Earnest tipped over and landed on Princess and all the water that had melted off of Teddy went on her and her paper became saturated. “I’m multing, I’m multing!” she cried as she sunk into the floor.

We turned to look where the statue had been and Pocket stood triumphantly. The Brigade all stood and cheered my little sister, and after a few moments of jealousy, so did I.

“Do you think she’s gone for good?” Baarney asked.

“The Princesses of the world never go away,” Hobo said. “Now let’s find Pocket her steak.”

Pocket and I were back on our balcony, Pocket chewing on her steak, me sitting in my chair, looking on jealously, barking over and over “give me some steak, give me some steak, give me some steak!”

“You know Foley,” she said chewing, “you did come close, and it was a bit unfair of me to pick Princess.”

“Yeah, I got screwed, give me some steak, give me some steak.”

“Maybe we could make another bet,” Pocket said, clearly not going to give me any steak.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Well Foley, you’re real talent is with humans, I mean I think you could make any woman into a wonderful, tender loving Mom.”

“I can. I can. If I do will you give me some steak!”

“I will, if you can change this woman, but if you can’t, I get another steak!” Pocket said.

“I can, I can, any woman, now give me some steak.”

“In one moment,” Pocket said. She then picked up cell paw and spoke into it. “Can you send up Mrs. Gosselin please?” she asked.

I sat back in my chair. I was never going to get steak.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

My Fair Princess Part II

I felt Pocket’s cold nose brushing against my fur on the fourth morning of our bet. I wanted to squirm down further under the blanket. I was exhausted. I had improved somewhat on Princess’ spelling, but her attitude still left so much to be desired.

I had received wonderful advice from 12, Chappy and Whiskey, and Chelsea and Ashton, to bite her in the butt whenever she got out of line, but man, did that behind taste bad. Then Whiskey told me to get a pooper scooper and use it to bite her, but I had trouble holding it, and then spent the rest of the day opening and closing the scooper part and singing Mac the Knife.

“Our guest is waiting in the kitchen for you,” Pocket said.

“How is she?” I asked.

“She’s improved two-fold since she has come under your tutelage,” my sister said. “This morning she asked for French Tust instead of Frunch Tust.”

I burrowed in deeper.

“You can give up now,” Pocket said. “I can give her the French Tust to go and send her back to the castle.”

I stood and stretched. A Monster never quits. I hopped off the bed and went down stairs to see Princess, with syrup dripping from her fur, frantically pounding away on her Blackpuppy.

“Princess, what did I say about managing the web site when we’re working on making you a good dog?” I said.

“I have too. A dog writ a blog abut reign saying he didn’t lick reign. I um deluting him, two poolitcal. I dunt want doggies ticking abut global wumming.”

“Dogs should be able to say they don’t like the rain Princess, it’s just an opinion. How about you, do you like the rain?”

“No, it mekes my ink run.”

“See, that’s an opinion.”

“Oh no, I hive to delute myself.”

“You don’t have to delete anyone, just let dogs speak freely, as long as they are not cruel to one another.”

“Oh, I dunt let dogs be cruul to one anuther, unless they by a supper secret prememum memburship and then they can du what viva they want.”

I shook my head. She had learned nothing. “Princess, you can’t choose your closest friends by how much money they spend on your website. Pocket and I run a web site with lots of friends and we don’t make any money off of it.’

“Mebee I should be tictching ewe,” Princess said.

I sighed. “Let’s start with this dog you want to delete who doesn’t like rain. Why doesn’t he like rain?”

“His huse fluds because the land whure it’s beelt is flat.”

“Well see, that’s a good reason, instead of deleting him you should send him a supportive message.”

“No, I dunt like him, he’s not an Americkan.”

“It doesn’t matter what country he is from, I have lots of friends, from Argentina, Mexico, Rome, they’re all wonderful people.”

Princess looked stunned. “I am repurting ewe to Hummland Sexcurity.”

“OK, what country is he from?” I asked.

“Spain,” he answered.

“Then send him a supportive message about the rain.”

“The reign?”

“No rain. R A I N.”


“No rain.”


“Yes, you are sorry about the rain in Spain.”

“The rain in Spine?”




“Spain. The rain in Spain.”

“Yes, the rain in Spain. You’re sorry the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain.”

“In the pline?”

“The plain.”

“The plain?”

“Yes, you’re sorry the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain!”

“The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain?” she said.

By Jove I think she’s got it!

“So instead of deleting him send him a message that says that you are sorry the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain and floods his house!” I said.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do,” Princess responded.

“You are the new Princess, you just did an entire line without misspelling a word. I’m a genius!” I said happily wagging my tail.

I now had a plan. Magoo of the Nazario Dogs was planning a birthday bash. I would bring Princess as my plus one, and show all my friends that I had changed her into a normal, likeable dog and savor my T-bone I won from Pocket.

I could hardly wait.


Wednesday, June 17, 2009

My Fair Princess (Part One)

Pocket and I were enjoying a nice rawhide chew and fortified water while sitting on a balcony over looking our playground as it twinkled in the twilight; when I proposed to my sister that I, a dog of great renown in training, could take any dog off the street and turn them into a refined, well trained, dog about town.

”After all, look what I have done with you Miss Poops-a-lot,” I said. Pocket, showing her new found maturity, ignored my sophomoric remark.

“So, you think that I could find any dog off the street and within a month you can make them as suave and sophisticated as you?” Pocket asked.

“Of course not,” I told my little sister. “I don’t think it would take me more than seven days.”

Pocket took a long drink of her fortified water, put her rawhide in her mouth, and laid back looking at the darkening sky. “Would you like to make this interesting?” she asked.

“How so?” I asked.

“I find a dog, any dog, from anywhere, and within a week if you make them a trained, refined dog, I buy for you a Texas rib-eye, but if you fail, you buy one for me.”

Well this was going to be the easiest steak a Yorkie ever earned. I quickly agreed and gave her 48 hours to find the cur I would turn into an elegant Lollipop.

The morning of the challenge I awoke and Pocket was already awake. I got out of bed and went down the stairs and heard a strange crunching under my feet. I looked down and saw bits of shredded paper. “What has that silly dog done now?” I wondered.

“I am sorry, I burnt the muffins,” Pocket said to our guest.

“Yes, I see, it is very unforchunit,” our guest said.

I stopped in my tracks. No, she couldn’t have. Not Pocket. While she was growing more like me she could not possibly have become this mischievously clever. I hurried into the kitchen and saw her trying to catch a glimpse of herself in the reflection off the refrigerator door.

“Well good morning,” Pocket said, a wide grin on her little face. “You remember the Paper Princess don’t you?”

“Hiloo Fuley,” Princess said. “Pucket berntt tha miffins.”

“Excuse me Pocket,” I said to my sister. “Can I talk to you privately?”

“Well that would be rude to our guest,” Pocket said.

“Dun’t wurry Im atein miffins,” Princess said.

Pocket left the kitchen smiling and we walked to the stairs. “No!” I announced.

“You said any dog,” she said smugly.

“She’s not even a real dog!” I shouted.

“You said any dog, she’s a dog, unless you’re not the pup you think you are?”

Well, no one throws down the gauntlet to a Monster. “Fine,” I said. I got right up in her face so I could smell the burnt muffin on her breath. “I’ll do it. But no interference from you.”

“But I want to watch!” she said. I saw her green ball and threw it up the stairs and she took off after it, gone for the afternoon.

I went back to the kitchen, smiled at Princess, and took a long drink. I then scratched my head trying to think of where to begin. “OK Princess,” I said while thinking very hard. “Pocket wanted you to come here so I can help you be a better dog.”

“Yo beatch whut’s wrung wid tha weigh I ect?”

I took a deep breath. “Well to start with Princess, your spelling.”

“Me spilling. Whut’s wrung wid me spilling? Eye um e ecelant spiller.”

“Um, no Princess, fact is I don’t think you can even spell Princess.”

“P R I N C E A S S” she said triumphantly.

“Well you had me going there for a second,” I said. “I think there are a number of spelling rules we could go over to help you in this area.”

‘I mike tha rulez!” Princess said.

“Yeah, but these rules help you remember how to spell, like, I before e except after c.”

“Nah I befour mea, I befour everybuddy, I Princeass.”

I sighed. “OK, maybe we’ll come back to spelling later, maybe we can work on your attitude.”

“Whut additude?”

“You think you’re better than everyone else.”

“I um butter, I um the Princass!”

Upstairs I could hear Pocket laughing at me. She was right. I certainly had my work cut out with this Prince-ass, but I am a Monster, and a Monster never gives up.





Monday, June 15, 2009

Zoe Boe's pool party

By Pocket (Inspired by Zoe Boe):

On Sunday mornings Foley and I like to sleep late. This Sunday, when the Monster phone rang, Foley just burrowed further under the blanket. But we are still on high alert, and I am Private Pocket, a dutiful solider, and was obligated to answer the call.

I was delighted to hear it was Zoe Boe. She told me her pool was open and a bunch of our friends were going to be there. I said we’d certainly join them. I hung up the phone, went down the end of the bed, and told Foley we had somewhere to go.

Well she said something you shouldn’t say during the heart of a Saturday night, never mind Sunday morning. But I kept nipping her ears, her piggy toes, and her butt, and finally she relented, climbing out of the covers. “Who called?” she asked licking her toes.

“It was Zoe Boe she’s having a pool party,” I said. “A pool party?” Foley said surprised then she bipped me right in the head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”


We got our paw flops, our dog paddle fins, our Yorkie snorkies, then we got into the Monster Machine, set the coordinates for Zoe Boe’s house, and boom, boom, pow, we were there.

We landed right next to Chelsea and Ashton, curled up in the warm sun. “Are you going swimming?” I asked.

“We’re Yorkies,” Chelsea said yawning. “We lie in the warm sun. That’s how we served the King in World War One. Mines are warm. We’d lie on them. The soldiers would step around us to safety, and we were so tiny, we didn’t set off the mines.”

“I thought they used us to crawl into tunnels?” I asked.

”What are you nuts?” Ashton said. “You ever know a Yorkie who wanted to crawl into a tunnel, all dark and cobwebby? That was just Yorkie propaganda. No, we served by laying in the sun.”

“Sounds good to me,” Foley said and plopped down next to them. I began pawing her butt: “We should at least say hi to Zoey,” I said.

“Oh, all right,” Foley said, stretching like she had been asleep hours. She then began to bounce towards the pool.

Zoe Boe bounded over when she saw us and gave us both big, wet kisses. “I am so happy you girls could make it,” she said. “Almost everyone is in the pool, and we have some barbecued squirrel meat, and hot dogs, and hamburgers, and Snausage fingers, so you girls make yourself at home.” She then looked over and saw two dogs talking on paw phones. “But first perhaps you could do something about that,” she said pointing towards them.

We looked over and saw Puppy and Wishbone speaking into their paws. We walked across the wet grass and asked Puppy what they were doing. “I am checking on a dog we placed in a home in Durham and Wishbone is on hold with Governor Mark Sanford’s office about Holland Belue.”

Foley sighed. “Puppy, you’re at a party, and I know you’re committed to save dogs everywhere, but you can relax for one afternoon.” Puppy put up a fight, but finally relented. Wishbone, on the other paw, insisted he was moments away from talking with Governor Sanford.

”Give me the phone,” Foley said. Wishbone refused, but Foley squeezed a chick chick, broke his concentration and grabbed the phone. “Yes, tell Governor Sanford the ghost of Strom Thurmond’s on the phone,” Foley barked. She was soon connected. “Yes Governor Sanford, I want you to fire Holland Belue and take some of that stimulas money to build no kill shelters in your state you incredible hump.” Foley then hung up the phone. “Let’s go swimming,” she said.

“I am going to get the raft because I am the Admiral,” Foley said.

“You’re the General,” I reminded her.

“Same thing,” she said.

But apparently it wasn’t because Brookie was on the raft being pushed by Chase and Gucci. She saw Foley. “Do you want the raft Foley? I can get off. I just don’t want to get my suit wet.”

“That’s all right,” a disappointed Foley said. “You three look like you’re having so much fun.”

“She’s being pushed by Shih Tzu power!” the Gooch said then made a revving sound and pushed her as Brookie squealed with delight.

“Do you want to jump in?” I asked Foley.

“Not here,” she whispered. “Those Shih Tzus, they are so pretty and puffy, and when they get wet it’s like they shrink three times their size. I can’t deal with shrinkage.”

We went over to the diving board. “Bauser!” Foley said excitedly walking on to the board where Bauser lay in the new Tanner Brigade bandana. “Oh look at how pretty that is,” Foley said.

“Thank you, that’s why I’m chilling up here, I don’t want to get it wet,” Bauser said.

“No that’s too precious to get wet even though I know these colors don’t run,” Foley said giving him a kiss on the head.

She lay down next to him to get caught up and I was tired of waiting so I jumped into the pool on my own. I floated on my back and Nigel floated by me in his float. He told me he couldn’t get his bow tie wet, and he was sipping a puppytini through a straw. He gave me a sip and it almost knocked me right out of the water.

Shortly thereafter Willow floated by in her tube followed by Brookie, Gooch and Chase and I got behind Willow and we raced back and forth through the pool yipping all the way. Then I heard Chase shriek and then everyone got out of the pool except for me and I looked over and floating in the pool was a….poo?

“Oh no Pocket pooed the pool!” Foley said.

“I did not!” I said. I waded over to it and picked it up. It was a Baby Ruth bar. Foley started laughing at the mean trick she played, but I got the last laugh because Wishbone and Puppy picked her up and tossed her into the pool and she came up all snorting when she got water in her nose.

Soon the Baby Ruth incident was forgotten and we were back playing. Then we got out and laywith Reba on the Gen Chen blanket and talked about all the cool mutts we knew. Sham and Karma were playing with Gracie on a blanket, rubbing her tummy, and Gracie was squealing with delight, and then we played catch the puppy. Max gave me, Zoey, Foley, Ashton and Chelsea rides on his head and we felt like the most beautiful Princess in the highest tower.

Soon it was getting dark and we all had to kiss and say goodnight and we were in the Monster Machine and back home, and we were so tired that we curled up under the blankets and went to sleep.

I had forgiven her for throwing a Baby Ruth in the pool and making everyone think I had pooed in the pool because Foley is my sister and I love her.

Plus I’m pretty sure I peed in the pool a little.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

The Tanner Biigade Musical: Act III

The Tanner Brigade Act II

Scene I

Where Sophie and Tanner are married and say goodbye

“Cover Me” sung to “Cover Me” from Rent
Live In My House
I'll Be You Shelter
Just Pay Me Back With One Thousand
Be My Partner
And I'll Cover You
Open Your Door - I'll Be Your Tenant
Don't Got Much Baggage
To Lay At Your Feet
But Sweet Kisses I've Got To Spare
I'll Be There - I'll Cover You

I Think They Meant It
When They Said You Can't Buy Love
Now I Know You Can find It
With pretty dogs on the world wide web

All My Life
I've Longed To Discover
Something As True
As This Is

So With A Thousand
Sweet Kisses
I'll Cover You

If You're Cold
And You're
You've Got One
Nickel Only
When You're
Worn Out
And Tired
When Your Heart
Has Expired

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six
Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand
Minutes Of Love

I'll Cover You

Scene II
Returning from their raid on the castle and accompanying Tanner to the Bridge Foley and Pocket realize they need a new home
“New Home” Sung to “Home”
Another bad blogger day
Is come and gone away
Where we play and roam
I think we need a new home

I was once surrounded by
Thousands of profiles I
Still felt all alone
I think we need a new home
Where no one bad can go

And I’ve been thinking about the kind messages we got from you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send back the same kind words to you
But they were surrounded by blogs cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another doggy site
With good friends
I’m lucky I know
But because of one mean dog
I think we need a new home

I think we need a new home
Where no one is mean or cold
I think we need a new home

And I feel just like I’m stuck in someone else’s drama
Where too many dogs were willing to fight
When everything wasn’t going right
And I know just why you could not
Stay there with me
‘Cause this like a bad dream
But you always believe in me

Another doggy place has come
And gone away
I miss Benji in Rome
And I wanna go home
Let’s get a new home

I was once surrounded by
Thousands of profiles I
Still felt all alone
I think we need a new home
Where no one bad can go

Let’s get a new home
DW had a good run
Baby, I’m done
I need a new home
Let’s get a new home
It will all right
We’ll all be home tonight
Scene III

Where Foley Monster founds and invites friends to Tanner Bub Land”
“Tanner Bub Land” sung to “American Land”
Come to this land of Tanner Bub so many will be happy here
I'm going now while I'm still young my darling meet me there
Wish me luck my lovely I'll send for you when I can
And we'll make our home in the Tanner Bub land

Over there you can dance and bark whatever you feel
And puppies dear, the smiley face, will make your comment heal
There are groups to join and friendly chats are right at hand
Come make your home in the the Tanner Bub Land

There’s blogs to be read and forums for all your big ideas
You have friends nearby and others to invite that you hold dear
There’s no mean comments everyone is there to lend a hand
When you make your home in the Tanner Bub Land

I went to Ning and typed in the words Tanner Brigade
I set the site to private so we’d never worry about a Princess raid
I emptied out the address book to say to good doggies from sand to sand
Come make your home in the Tanner Bub Land

There’s blogs to be read and forums for all your big ideas
There are event tabs where you can have parties with all those dear
You can put pictures in blogs and comment with just a flick of a hand
When you make your home in the Tanner Bub Land

The Bama Bunch, the Sham’s & Karma Pack, the 3L Brothers, too
Hobo Hudson, the Lambies, Hattie Mae, Moses and Matilda too
Came across the web to find a new homes
With nothin but the need to bark and freedom in their souls

They bark about their training, their Moms, their dislike of thunder
They bark about peace, love, understanding and support
They bark about good times, sunny days and long walks at dawn
And not a single one of them bark a word to put you down

There’s blogs to be read and forums for all your big ideas
There are event tabs where you can have parties with all those dear
You can put pictures in blogs and comment with just a flick of a hand
When you make your home in the Tanner Bub Land
When you make your home in the Tanner Bub Land
When you make your home in the Tanner Bub Land


“Don’t Stop Barkin!” sung to “Don’t Stop Believing”

Just a small town dog, livin in a lonely world
Sitting at the midnight computer goin nowhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in Pocatello, ID
Sitting at the midnight computer goin nowhere

A web site to sit and be friends
Who you can stay with until the end
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting ready to type on the Tanner Brigade
Sweet souls searching in the night
Sharing laughs, tears and emotion
Typing, somewhere in the night

Freedom to bark is our right
To keep it we’re prepared to fight
No one can silence us now
To no Princess should we bow
No bad words is what we choose
We’re not here to sing the blues
Oh, the brigade never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Dont stop barkin’
Hold on to the freedom
Tanner’s people

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Tanner Brigade: Musical Act II

The Tanner Brigade: The Musical

Act II

Scene One

Foley and Pocket learn that Tanner has been banned from DS and they petition Princess to allow him back. Princess comes down from on high to answer

Tanner Bub” (sung to Rehab)


You want me to bring back Tanner but I said 'no, no, no'
She broke the rules it’s very unforchunit you know know know
I ain’t go the time to listen to you puppies whine
You want me to let Tanner back but he must go go go

I’d rather be on line with edy
Cutting down doggies that we may
Cause there's nothing
There's nothing you can say
Unless there’s money you want to pay

I don’t’ have a lot of class
And if you don’t like it kiss my ass

You want me to bring back Tanner but I said 'no, no, no'
He broke the rules it’s very unforchunit you know know know
I ain’t got the time to listen to you puppies whine
You want me to let Tanner back but he must go go go

The man said ‘that dog said my name’
I said get him out of here
I don’t need any babies
It will keep me from fame
Foley said I made her depressed
I said get back with the rest

They tried to make me take back Tanner but I said ‘no, no, no’
She broke the rules it’s very unforchunit you know know know

I don't ever wanna think again
I just don’t need friends
I'm not gonna have my advertisers
think these pups have gone around the bend

It's not just my pride
I need to pay for my mail order bride

They tried to make me take back Tanner but I said ‘no, no, no’
She broke the rules it’s very unforchunit you know know know
I ain’t go the time to listen to you puppies whine
You want me to let Tanner back but he must go go go

Act II. Scene II.

In which Foley Monster and Pocket try to decide what they should do about Tanner’s banishment.

What would Moses Newfie do?
Sung to what would Brian Botanio do?

What would Moses Newfie do
If he was here right now,
He'd make a plan
And he'd follow through,
That's what Moses Newfie‘d do.

When Moses Newfie was on Mount Everest,
With Sir Hillary,
He dragged to the top that English putz
While wearing a blind fold.

When Moses Newfie was in the desert,
Fighting terrorists,
He used his magical fire breath,
And saved the entire army.

So what would Moses Newfie do
If he were here today,
I'm sure he'd bite an ass or two,
That's what Moses Newfie‘d do.

What would Moses Newfie do,
He'd call all the dogs in town,
And tell them to unite for Tanner
That's what Moses Newfie would do.

When Moses Newfie travelled through time
To the year 1776
He led the troops across the Delaware
and saved the American country

And when Moses Newfie built the pyramids,
He beat up Kubela Kong.

Cos Moses Newfie doesn't take shit from an-e-y-body

So lets all get together,
And unite to stop Princess
And we'll save Tanner Bub too,
Cos that's what Moses Newfie do.

And we'll save Tanner Bub too,
Cos that's what Moses Newfie do.
That's what Moses Newfie do.

Act II. Scene III.

In which Teddy Bond, Foley and Pocket lead the Tanner Brigade from the castle into the wilderness

Dogs on the Run” sung to Band on the Run

Stuck inside this castle, sent inside forever,
Never seeing no one nice again like Tanner,
Tanner you, Tanner you.
If I ever get out of here,
I’m going to find a new playground
With freedom to bark all day
All I need is a new place to bark
If I ever get out of here.

Well the walls exploded with a mighty crash and there was Teddy Bond
And Zoe Boe said to the Lambies it’s time to jump the pond
Dogs on the run, dogs on the run.
And Hobo Hudson and Ashton said it was time to have some fun

For the dogs on the run, dogs on the run, dogs on the run, dogs on the run

Well, the Princess drew a heavy sigh seeing how many had gone,
And a bell was ringing in the village square to search until dawn
Dogs on the run, Dogs on the run.
And Teddy Bond and the Foley Monster, were leading every one

For the dogs on the run, dogs on the run, dogs on the run, dogs on the run

Well, the night was falling as the Tanner Brigade began to settle down.
In the castle they’re searching for us every where, but we never will be found.
Dogs on the run, dogs on the run

And the Princess, who held a grudge
Will search for evermore
For the dogs on the run, dogs on the run, dogs on the run, dogs on the run

Act II: Scene IV:

As Tanner prepares to cross to Rainbow Bridge the Brigade invades the Princess’ Castle to pay tribute to him.

La Tanner Bub” sung to “La Boheme

Dearly beloved, we gather here to say
our goodbyes
Here he lies
Only we know his worth
The late great son of Mother Earth
On this night we celebrate the life
In this castle of Princess
We raise our glass- Hey bitch kiss my ass-
La Tanner Bub

La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub

To days of inspiration,
Chasing ball all day; playing
with nothing, the need
To express-
to communicate,
To going against the grain,
Going insane,
Going mad

To loving friends to the end
To going around the bend
To separation anxiety,
To praying to a deity
Not to mention of course,
Loving our mom and dad

3 L’S
To going for a walk
Midday past the three piece suits-
To toots- to hoots
To Puppy boots- To choice-
To freedom of voice-
To chewing nyla bones

To being an us- For once-
Instead of a them-
La Tanner Bub

To hand-crafted carts to push us around
To snausages, bacon, treats and cheese
To running, to playing, To roll on the floor
To waking every morning to a new day

To Gadgets, lasers, three martini lunches
Tuxedos, Playing hunches

To Steak for all three lunches

To compassion, to fashion, to passion
To pretty pink hats

To castrating husbands

To non-union kitties

To anything on wheels

To Weekly Puppy Digests

To Fred Browne

To Buttons at the Bridge

To Moses!

To the Tide

To the Sox

Peace on Earth too

To non pure bred dogs born through love
To Mutts

La Tanner Bub

To Yorkies, Lambies, Yellow Labradors,
Papillions, poodles, beagles,
Giant New Foundlanders
German Shepards, Bull dogs
Tiny little Shih Tzus, Lhasa Aps
To Silky Terriers

To barks, to larks, to playing in the dark
Pet Stages- Dental Bones, Cream filed Kongs
To no shame- Never playing the blame gang

To table scraps

A de-worming
Is between my vet and me
To empty anal glands
La Tanner Bub

To Writing
No Way To Make A Living, criticisim
Writers blocks, editors,
Carpal Tunnel, ADS, Dying-
Careers, Massive layoffs

To Computers
Web pages, Icons, Instant Messages,
Emotes, Designs, Avatars,
Graphic designs, Freedom to Bark

To Fostering
Giving Love, Giving freedom from
Finding forever homes, raiding puppy mills,
With endless compassion

To Drawing
Sketching, coloring, Bringing life
To Dreams,
To Mount Dogmore, Shih Tzus in Training
Making Art to live forever

To Puggles, Westies, Hounds, And tough little kitties

To Me

To Me

To Me

To You, And You And You, You And You
To puppies barking what, barking what,
Barking what they feel
Not being censored from barking what they mean

Let He Among Us Without Sin
Be The First To Condemn

La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub

Anyone Want Out of the
Is Anyone Still In the
Any dog who wants the freedom
To bark
Tear Down The Walls
Why don’t we all?

The Opposite Of War
Isn't Peace...
It's Freedom

La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub
La Tanner Bub
Viva La Tanner Bub

Monday, June 8, 2009

The Tanner Brigade: The Musical

By Foley:

I was watching the Tony’s Sunday night hosted by the multi-talented Neil Patrick Harris when I realized that most of the shows nominated for Best Musical were just retreads of old movies, Billy Elliot, Shrek, Nine to Five. It left me wondering, where are the young playwrights ready to pen the next great, original Broadway musical? And then I realized. It was the dog in the mirror, and the musical I had to write was the story of The Tanner Brigade.

Opening scene: (A middle aged Yorkie (Foley) is walking on the grounds of the DS castle)

Sung to Mountain Town

There are lots of dogs on this site
And kitties mewl in the night
Oh, there are groups to join and friends to bless
Just another Sunday morning on the web site DS

In this land we’re ruled by a Queen
Who let’s us bark as long as it’s not what we mean
And it’s illegal to so much as growl
You stop in to see your friend

(Grouchy friend)
I’m reporting you

Even though their mood is low
It’s another Sunday morning in my ever expanding web site DS

You can make comments to the poor and elite
But if they offend then watch them hit delete
Because about how we feel they couldn’t care less
It’s another Sunday morning in our highly regulated, oppressive web site DS

So off to our journal we shall go
We where say everything that we know
Because journals give us a chance to write what we want to say
And now are lives are complete
Because Princess and DS are super sweet
In this regulated, oppressive, censoring, web site DS!

Scene II: He who must not be named (HWMNBN) is causing problems on DS and a chorus of dogs would like him banned from the site.

Sung to Bohemian Rhapsody

Mama, just lost my girl
She said I was a hog
She even kept the dog
Mama, I had been happy
But now I can’t even get laid
Mama, oooo
Didn’t mean to bitch and whine
If I’m not posting here tomorrow
Carry on carry on, I don’t really matter
I see a little perverto of a man
Scaramouche, scaramouche he got porn on My Space-O
Bare breasts and buttocks, very very frightening me
Hugh Hefner, Hugh Hefner
Hugh Hefner spreads his porn
I’m just a poor boy nobody loves me
He’s just a poor boy who got a dumpdee
Spare him his profile despite his monstrosities
I can’t get laid, I can’t get laid
Why won’t someone lay me?
Bismillah! no-,I will not make him go-
Bismillah! no-,I will not make him go-
Bismillah! no-,I will not make him go-
I will not make him go
I will not make him go

Scene 3 where Princess celebrates her position of power

(sung to Master of the House)

Welcome, my friend, set your profile
And meet the best webkeeper in town
As for the rest, all of 'em crooks:
Looking for a quick sale by crooking the books
Seldom do you see
Honest men like me
A gent of good intent
Who's content to be

Master of the web, doling out the charm
Ready with a handshake and an open palm
Makes a pretty profile, causes a stir
Members appreciate a bon-viveur
Glad to do a friend a favor
Doesn't cost me to be nice
But nothing gets you nothing
Everything has got a little price!

Master of the web, keeper of the zoo
Ready to relieve 'em of a buck or two
Selling credits, premium memberships
Send a friend a knick-knack on their birthday for a price
Everybody loves a webmaster
Everybody's bosom friend
I do whatever pleases
Jesus! Won't I bleed 'em in the end!

Enter my friend, set your profile
Premium membership will do the job
Make lots of friends, give them some gifts
Let me help you lighten your purse
You need a badge
Stay on line all night
Click on the ads
Till I'm satisfied

Charge 'em for the gifts, extra for the credits
Cutting out groups when they don’t now how to make nice
Add a puppy here, a fake puppy there
We don’t care who has profiles as long as they’re there
When it comes to fixing numbers
There are a lot of tricks I know
How it all increases, all them bits and pieces
Jesus! It's amazing how it grows!

I used to dream that I would meet the princess
But God Almighty, have you seen what's happened since?

Master of the web? Isn't worth me spit!
`Comforter, philosopher' and lifelong shit!
Cunning little brain, regular Bill Gates
Thinks he's quite a thinker but there's not much there
What a cruel trick of nature landed me with such a dweeb
God knows how I've lasted living with this bastard on the web

Scene IV: The Banishing of Tanner Bub

Sung to Oliver

Tanner Bub! Tanner Bub!
Never before has a dog named a man!

Tanner Bub! Tanner Bub!

Won't use a name when he knows what's in store.

There a dark, deep woods
Without any supporters
Which we'll throw him down, and leave him
To go to the bridge all alone

Tanner Bub! Tanner Bub!

What will he do when he's turned out of the castle?
He will curse the day
Somebody named him


Saturday, June 6, 2009

The sinister Chihuahua and his direct to DVD Mom

By Foley:

Guess who I met today?

Pocket and I went outside after Mommy and Daddy got back from shopping (nothing for us) and, while I was minding my own business peeing on the lawn, the sinister Chihuahua came running up to me. Well, first of all, I do not like having my peeing interrupted especially by a rhinestone collar wearing lap dog. Secondly, it got right up in my face, not respecting my personal space at all. Daddy held our leashes tight being well aware of my peeing rules.

And then, sashaying down the sidewalk towards my Dad, came the Chihuahua’s owner. Now where we live there are rules, and one of the rules is that you cannot let doggies run free. Daddy gets very upset when this happens because he worries about us tiny dogs. So what did Daddy say when he saw the Chihuahua’s Mom as she smiled and apologized?

He smiled and told her that it was all right. You see the sinister Chihuahua’s Mommy, she’s in the movie industry. Well, that may be giving her too much credit, she’s in the DVD industry. The direct order DVD industry. The direct order from an internet site which you can’t get on to at the public library DVD industry. The direct order from an internet site frequented by lonely guys who used to own a Bichon Freise which you can’t get on at the library DVD industry.

I looked up at Daddy, ready to see him give this woman what for, and he looked at her, smiled, and said “That’s OK.” The woman then bent down and picked up the sinister Chihuahua and it looked back at me and sneered with the “my Mommy’s in the direct to DVD business and I can do whatever I want,” look.

Pocket and I continued on our walk but Pocket could not concentrate on her business, and if anyone needs to concentrate on her business it is Pocket. She asked me why Daddy had not given that woman what for and I told her that when approached by pretty Mommies some Daddies become like a bowl of Jello while trying to come across like a rawhide stick.

I calmed Pocket and she did her business and when we came around again we saw Jake and Elwood, our Lhasa friends, being walked by their Mom, and she moved to walk in the street while we moved to walk on the sidewalk because the four of us, when we get together, have a marathon barking and sniffing session. A disappointed Pocket asked why Daddy would keep us sniffing the sinister Chihuahua but have us avoid our Lhasa friend’s Mom. I told her it was because Jake and Elwood’s Mom is a paralegal and not in the direct to DVD industry.

We went back inside and there was my Mommy. You know the relationship us pups have with our Moms. Sometimes we can say so much with just a look. We can say “Mommy I need to go outside,” or “Mommy my tummy hurts,” or “Mommy Daddy was making googley eyes at the woman who is in the direct to DVD movies.” I chose the third one.

I was a little cold in bed last night. I like to sleep right between Mommy and Daddy. But when Daddy has to sleep in the hammock it’s never as warm. At least we won’t be seeing that Chihuahua for awhile.

Some sacrifices are worth it in the long run.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Teddy Bond's bag of tricks

Foley sat behind her desk, turned away, absent-mindedly looking at a squirrel on the lawn playing with his nuts. The desk was only a few inches high, and the chair only half that, but Foley still felt very important sitting behind it. In a chair on the other side of the desk was Pocket. She was not sitting how Foley had wanted, with her butt in the seat, her forelegs hanging uselessly in front of her, her back legs hanging off the chair; but she was curled up like a dog, licking her paws, and wondering what tasty delight she had stepped in.

The phone buzzed and Foley tried to reach across the desk to hit the speaker button, but her arms wouldn’t reach, and she barked out for her secretary to come in. Zoe Boe walked in and told Foley that her 3:00 was here. Foley asked her to give them a moment and then watched as his long legged girl Friday wiggled out of the room. “If you were going to gawk at our secretary you should have at least got a boy dog,” Foley said.

“First of all I am neutered so I’m not attracted to anyone’s butt but my own. Secondly, I did have a male secretary, Wishbone, but he filed everything under W and I had to let him go. Thirdly, when I’m bored she draws me pretty pictures.”

The door opened and a Shih Tzu puppy, black and white, came into the room sniffing everything in site. Then she stopped and peed on the rug.

“Hey are you replacing me?” Pocket asked.

“No Pocket, we all have roles in play in the Brigade, and excitable pissing is yours, no, our friend Grace just had a little accident isn’t that right?” Foley asked to his guest, Grace Earnest.

“Cookie, you have cookie for Gracie?” the pup asked.

“Yes, I do,” Foley said. Pocket relunctantly reached down from a bag at her side, got a cookie, and placed it on the chair where Foley wanted to conduct her talk. Gracie ran towards it and after several jumps got in the chair.

“Pocket, this is Gracie, she is Teddy Bond’s new sister,” Foley said.

“It is nice to meet you,” Pocket said.

“Cookie. Give me cookie!” Gracie said.

“Now Grace,” Foley said. “Do you know why we brought you here?”

“For a cookie?” she asked hopefully.

“No, no. OK, yes, give her a cookie.” Pocket sighed, her cookie supply getting diminished by the second. “You are here because your brother left us all his spy gadgets to give to you and we are going to do that today…..Pocket what are you doing?”

Pocket had climbed across her chair and was burying her nose in Grace’s fur sniffing her. “I love that new dog smell,” she said.

“Stop it your embarrassing us,” Foley said. He turned back to Grace. “Now Teddy left me a bag of tricks so let me look in here and see what we have.” She pulled out what looked like an ordinary bone. Foley studied it but did not see anything special about it and threw it on the floor.

Grace hopped down and took it in her mouth and began to chew it. When she bit down on the bone it sent a laser across the room that shattered a lamp. Foley and Pocket jumped down and hid under the desk as lasers flew through the air. They heard the door open and the soft pitter-patter of a sleek lady then the lasers stopped. The girls lifted their heads from under the desk where they saw Zoe with the bone in her mouth. “Foley, how many times do I have to ask you not to give the puppy the laser bone?” she asked.

Foley got out from under the desk, licked her fur to straighten it, jumped up and sat, and said: “Thank you Ms. Boe, that will be all.” Foley looked down and pulled out a camera. She turned in over. “Oh it’s his penis cam!” she said.

“What’s a penis cam?” Pocket asked.

“Teddy had it inserted in his penis and whenever he licked himself he took a picture.”

“Wow,” Pocket said. “That’s a lot of pictures. I don’t think we should give it to she doesn’t have a, you know, the p thing.”

“No, no, gimme, gimme camera, give me, give me!” Gracie said.

Foley slid the camera over to her and Grace ate it. “Well, at least we’ll know if she has worms,” Pocket said.

Foley went back into the bag and brought out beans. “Was Teddy building a bean stalk?” Pocket asked.

“Beans, beans, give me beans, give me beans!” Grace said.

Foley looked at Teddy’s written note that said “do not eat after midnight,” and noting that it wasn’t after midnight he tossed Grace a bean and that puppy caught it in her mouth.

She chewed it and swallowed it down. Foley and Pocket studied her but nothing seemed to be happening. Foley looked down at the last item in Teddy’s bad which seemed to be cookies. She was going to eat one herself when she stopped as something foul filled the air.

“Oh my God that smells terrible,” Pocket said.

Foley suddenly grew very excited. “Oh my gosh! Those are fatal fart beans. Oh that is great!”

“I think I am going to die” Pocket said gasping for air.

“No, fatal farts are great. Oh God my eyes are watering! Zoe!” The door opened and Zoe sprayed air freshener into the room while holding a paw over her nose.

Foley took the cookies out of the bag and used it to clear the air in front of her face and Grace jumped up on the table a wolfed down the cookies.

The Grace slowly lifted into the air. “Oh my they are flying cookies!” Pocket said. Grace floated over their heads.

“Look at her she’s a flying Shih Tzu!” Foley said in awe.

Then Gracie began farting and it became difficult to breathe. “It’s a flying farting Shih Tzu!” Pocket said.

Then Foley felt wet drops falling on her. “It’s a flying, farting, peeing Shih Tzu.”

This was followed by a clicking sound “And I think she’s taking our picture!” Pocket cried and then they both dove under the desk.

Gracie kept flying, farting, peeing, picturing, and now pooping until the door opened. Zoe came in, jumped on the couch, leapt in the air and caught the flying, farting, peeing, pooping, picturing pooch gently in her jaws.

She held Gracie until she air ran out, placed her on the ground, and told her to scoot on home.

She then walked over and picked up Teddy’s magical bag of tricks in her mouth. “I will bring this back when Gracie is old enough to appreciate it,” she said.

Chagrined, Foley and Pocket waited under the desk for Zoe to leave the room. Then Pocket gestured with her nose at the two magic beans and cookies that had fallen on the floor.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Pocket asked.

“That the world needs a flying, farting Yorkie?” Foley replied.

The two sisters scoffed down the cookies and beans and then floated in the air, barking in joy as they bounced off one another high above the office floor.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

A final toast to Teddy E. Bond

By Foley

Gather rounds the bowls pups. No Hattie, that’s not water. Don’t lick it up Matilda we need to wait a bit. That’s right Hobo that’s a martini, shaken not stirred. I have called the entire Tanner Brigade here together, on this night, to have one last toast to the great Teddy Earnest Bond.

For those of you who don’t know Teddy Bond has been summoned to Rainbow Bridge by Moses and Fred. There have been rumors of dogs from the dark side trying to infiltrate the bridge and after meeting with Tanner Bub it was decided there was only one pup for the job: Bond. Ted Bond.

I don’t know how many of are aware, but when Pocket and I were banished from the kingdom it was Teddy Bond who found us alone and shivering in the wilderness, who led us to a new dog park where the Tanner Brigade could unite, and it was he who rescued Pocket and I when we stormed the castle. He was one of the founders of the Tanner Brigade, striking the first tent.

Ted apologizes to all his friends. He couldn’t give them notice. The mission was so top secret he couldn’t even tell his great love: His Mom Camille. When she dropped him at the vets he wanted to stop her, to tell her how much he loved her, to tell her how sorry he was that he had to go, but our stoic little Lhasa would do nothing to betray his mission, even as his tender heart was breaking.

Moses had decided Teddy should depart from his vet’s office because from there it is a short path to the bridge. Moses had wanted Teddy to slip away during surgery but our head strong secret agent man has been known to break a rule or two in his Moses’ Secret Service career. He awoke long enough to pass a note to another patient that has been forwarded to me.

“Final Deep Thoughts from Teddie Earnest: My friends I do apologize for my abrupt departure from this tired mortal coil. I have been sent on a mission for which there is no return. I want to thank all of my fellow brigade members. Before you, I was the most beautiful, lovable Lhasa in the world, but when I joined you, I became the most feared secret agent in the land. We were surely a band on brothers and a legion of lollipops.

And for my dearest Mom: How I yearn for one more scratch, one more belly rub, one more game where the light of joy dances in both our eyes, one more time just to lay with you, breathing together, our hearts beating together, looking in your eyes and seeing the comfort you found in mine. If I can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those I love, I shall always be near you, in the garish day and in the darkest night - amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Mommy, do not mourn me dead, think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.”

And with his Mommy’s name on his tongue our Teddy’s soul passed to the bridge.

Now, my fellow Brigade members, it is time for one final toast to Teddy Earnest Bond. The most courageous, bravest, loyal dog I ever met.

To Teddy.

(All the dogs lifted their bowls, tilted them back, and drank down their martinis, and solemnly put the bowls down, stood on their back legs, and saluted towards the bridge in honor of their little secret agent man.)

(As the dogs filed back to their homes Pocket began to sing in her sweet and soft voice:)

beat the drum slowly,
play the fife lowly
sound the death march as you carry me along
cover my body in sweet-smelling posies
for I'm the young puppy cut down in his prime

Monday, June 1, 2009

Tick in the crotch

Daddy came home today, said it was a beautiful day, and told us we were going for a quick walk at the State Mental Hospital. “Watch out for the ticks!” Mommy said. I am more worried about the moaners and the twitches but if Mommy doesn’t like ticks that’s OK too.

“She means the blood sucking parasites,” Foley said.

“Her kids are going to be there!” I asked excitedly.

But no, she meant the little back bug that crawls on us, bites, and holds on. Mommy doesn’t like us walking anywhere there may be ticks. Mommy would prefer us to go on a walk in a scorched nuclear wasteland 20 years after the last bomb fell.

Daddy assured her that we would be careful and we were off. Daddy started out carrying us on the sidewalk because he’s nervous when we walk near the road. Then we were at the entrance of the hospital, he put us down, and I did my favorite thing. I ran.

I ran back and forth over the sweet green grass tickling my piggy toes. Foley ran too, like Big Papi trying to beat out a bunt. I could only run as far as the flexi leash would let me but that was fine with me. I started pretending I was Daddy’s boyhood dog Barney.

He lived in the 70’s when the drugs were cheap, love was free, and so were dogs, to roam where they choose. Barney was a mutt’s mutt. The Animal Control Officer, who was quite familiar with Barney, thought he was 30% bear. They said he was one of a kind, but it being the age of love the one you’re with, by the time Barney went to the bridge, he had created his own breed.

I have heard lots of Barney stories. Barney used to drive Daddy’s Mom crazy, she was so afraid he would knock a child of a bike (he did); get picked up by the police (he did); get run over (he did, and survived) and steal from the neighbors that she spent lots more time worrying about him than enjoying him.

One day Daddy was playing basketball in his driveway when he looked up the street and saw Barney dragging a bag in his mouth. Daddy’s house was at the bottom of a hill and Barney picked up speed heading downward, and stopped at Daddy’s feet dropping a 50 pound bag of Doggychow he had stolen from mean Mr. Medas’ garage at his feet.

Barney looked up at Barney and said: “See, I don’t’ need you, I can feed myself.” Then they both heard a roar and looked up to see old square headed Mr. Medas raging towards them. The bag had ripped open as Barney dragged it out of his garage, and the half mile home, and Mr. Medas was following the trail of kibble, stepping on it, crunch, crunch, crunch, as he drew closer.

“Gotta go!” Barney said as he ran off into the woods.

“Me too!” Daddy said as he followed.

Daddy’s Mommy was so upset about the dog food incident, she had to buy mean Mr. Medas a new bag, and she was sure the family was the talk of the neighborhood. She never had been a dog person, and when Barney crossed the bridge, another dog never spent a night under her roof.

Now Daddy’s Mommy has a favorite brother named Skippy and Skippy is married to Aunt Betty. (Oh Aunt Betty isn’t her real name. We are protecting her identity, but Uncle Skippy’s name is really Skippy. Any 80 year old man who is still named after a jar of peanut butter doesn’t deserve to have his identity concealed.)

Daddy’s mother was heartbroken when Skippy got a pup. Skippy hates to go anywhere without this dog. Daddy’s mommy always loved when Skippy would come to stay at her house, but now that Skippy had a dog, they don’t stay there anymore.

Last week Daddy went to visit his Mommy and she was talking about how much she hates that dog and she told a story about Skippy and Betty taking the dog for a long walk in a meadow and when they got home Betty had a tick in her crotch.

“And you know how painful that can be!” Daddy’s Mommy said.

“What does she mean I know how that feels?” Daddy said telling our Mommy the story. “Am I suppressing some long forgotten of my Mommy tweezering a tick from my crotch?”

I know this was still bothering Daddy during our walk because he pulled me away whenever I went to go in the tall grass. We did have a great walk, and we got home, and I saw, sitting on his porch, “Mr Frank and Beans,” in his bathrobe.

“Did you go for a walk across the street?” he asked.

Daddy said we had.

“Better check for tick in your crotch,” Mr. Frank and Beans said.

Monday Question

 What is the oldest thing in your house that has been used by pets long before you moved into the house, and do you still use it?   Ruby'...