Skip to main content


Showing posts from December, 2009

Pup of the week December 27

One of the greatest attributes a pup can have is loyalty. Loyalty makes us do things without thinking: Like charging at larger dogs who threaten our Mom; or barking at huge humans in our doorway who may be entering our home without permission; or staying with our parents when they have broken their leg while reaching the mountain summit even though a blizzard is due (this has happened to me twice.) But I have never seen loyalty like one of our members has shown this autumn. She had been a valued member of Princess’ castle. But when the politics there began to turn against common dogs like us, she was the first one to be chased out. She was very disrespected by some less trained dogs, her feelings were hurt, and we all lost a fantastic friend. During our brief stay in our temporary home she joined us again, but a bad dog chased her away. It took a lot of persistent pleading to get her to join the Tanner Brigade, but when she did we became complete as a group. When she le

Our Christmas: Zoe Boe's made the day, and a trip to the Bridge made our night

As some of our Facebook friends are aware two of the gifts that my Mommy gave, to daughter #1, and to Daddy’s Mommy, were pictures drawn by Zoe Boe’s immensely talented Mom with the aid of the able bodied Zoe, and her expertise in coloring and shading. She had to do them quickly. My parents sent the pictures she did the drawings from to the wrong e-mail address, so if you received pictures of a Shih Tzu and an elderly couple standing on a hill in Wolfeboro New Hampshire please delete. She got them, did a marvelous job getting them ready in time, and put them in the US Mail paying an extra rate so they would get here post haste. Every day we checked the mailbox, and while there were wonderful things there, cards from the beautiful Lambies, from Tanner’s Mom, from Roland’s Mom, there still wasn’t the anticipated artwork. Mommy and Zoe Boe’s Mom exchanged e-mails and finally she sent Zoe out to track it. As we all know Zoe is a brilliant tracker, and on Christmas Eve she sent us

The Tanner Brigade 12 Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a Pocket peeing on the floor On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me three basset hounds named Olivia, Dot and Roxanne Two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me four Red Raider jerseys for Chelsea and Ashton Three basset hounds named Olivia, Dot and Roxanne Two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me five Hattie Maes Four Red Raider jerseys for Chelsea and Ashton Three basset hounds named Olivia, Dot and Roxanne Two vicious poms named Chase and Gucci And a Pocket peeing on the floor On the sixth day of Christmas my true love game to me six Hobo Hudson blogs Five Hattie Maes Four Red Raider jerseys for Chelsea

The official Foley Monster and Pocket Christmas Picutre

It is time for the unveiling of the Foley Monster and Pocket official Christmas picture. OK everyone settle down. I know, it’s like the lighting of the Rockerfeller Center Christmas Tree or the erecting of the National Festivus Pole, but let me give you a little background first. At this point of our posing we had been photographed about 600 times. You cannot tell, because it did not appear in the picture, but there were tiny puffs of steam coming out my ears. I was tired and wanted a lap. When I am in the thralls of lap withdrawal I am six pounds of ferocious hell, my friends. As for Pocket, never has a dog looked so resigned, so forlorn. She had tried it all, looking left, looking right, pouting, bringing sexy back; nothing pleased our camera obsessed parents. She laid her head on the blanket. The expression on her face was simple defeat. The antlers had been strapped to her head for more than an hour. They could have attached a ball gag and the humiliation needle woul

Morgan is the Pup of the week December 20, 2009

'Twas the five days before Christmas, when all through the brigade Pocket and Foley were picking a puppy to parade They needed a pup of the week so pretty and fair, Whose wonderfulness to all was very rare; The other pups were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of Snasauges danced in their heads; And Pocket in her neckkerchief, and I in my bandana, Were munching on Mommy’s antipasto platter, Our arguments over pup of the week usually raise a clatter, This week we agreed so nothing was the matter. We agreed on who to pick in a flash, Then went through the cupboards looking for suckatash. We saw the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow And hoped before we had to wee it would find somewhere to go Unlike the sky our pick for pup of the week was clear, It is a Miracle Maltese we all hold dear, What a little old pup, so lively and quick, Our pup is holding strong even though he’s been sick. His name is Morgan, he’s our Miracle Maltese He’s the first to

How we survived the blizzard

This morning when the alarm went off Daddy got up and looked out the window and let out a big groan. Mr. Winter had left a bunch of deep and cold snow outside. While Pocket and I burrowed further down the covers, and Mommy rolled over and pulled them tighter, Daddy put on his clothes, his coat, his gloves, his hat, his booties, (big Kitty, Pocket and I go out in our everyday wear) and then went outside to dig us out a spot to pee and Vick. We woke up an hour later and silly Daddy had not come back in the house yet. This was so aggravating. We sent Pocket down to see what the delay was. She ran downstairs, looked out the window, then went back to the bed to tell us he was laying in the snow making snow angels. Mommy was so mad. Just like Daddy to be playing when there was work to do. Mommy put on a robe and a jacket and we all went down stairs in a grumpy huff. I jumped on the back of the couch and said "I don't know if Daddy is making snow angels because he's n

Foley Monster's Christmas List for Santa

Dear: Santa Hi Santa, it’s me, Foley Monster. How have you been? I’m doing well. I have had an excellent year. We formed the Tanner Brigade, defeated the terrible Princess, and gave dogs the freedom to bark across the land. How about you? Still doing that good child, bad child, passing out the toys crap? Well I guess that’s cool. At least you have steady work. Hope you worked out the health care issue with the elves. I hope you don’t have too much melting up at the North Pole. I know you like the Artic because no one can get there. If all the ice melts then it will become a tourist trap and you’ll never get anything done. If that happens and you need to move I suggest the Jersey Shore. Nobody wants to go there. Just don’t hire an elf named The Situation. This year I am going to mix things up a little bit. Instead of a long list of what I want I am going to ask you for some things for my friends. So get your fountain pen and parchment, or blackberry, and get ready

TBTV reporter Hobo Hudson interviews candidate Pocket

Hobo: Good evening: I am Hobo Hudson and welcome to Tanner Brigade Tonight TVTB’s look at the issues of the day. Our guest this evening is Independent candidate for Massachusetts Senate Pocket Q. Rocket. Welcome Ms. Rocket. Pocket: Thank you for having me this evening Hobo. I am looking forward to your questions. Hobo: Pocket, you live in the city of Taunton MA. Recently an eight year old boy was sent home from school and not allowed to come back unless he underwent a psychological exam for drawing this picture: The boy claimed it is a picture of Christ on the cross. Do you support the school system’s stance? Pocket: Absolutely. Just look at this picture. That’s the worst Christ on the cross I have ever seen. It looks like that girl Cathy from the Funny Papers being water boarded. If you allow outwork that bad to be in the classroom where does it end? You’ve got to figure out why this kid sucks so bad at drawing and make sure it doesn’t happen. Excuse me, I t

Foley and Pocket worry the the Dog Whisperer turned their parents into zombies

Despite my using all the tools at my disposal, calling in all favors owed to me, and promising more than I will be able to repay, my parents still made it into Boston Sunday night to her the Dog Whisperer. While Mommy and Daddy were preparing to go I hacked on to the security system for the Agganis Arena at Boston University. I sent out the following e-mail: “To all parking staff: Only admit one car at a time on to the lot. Only allow cars who have pre-paid with their credit card and have a printed out ticket park in the lot. Do not check to see if they have the ticket until they’re in the lot, and if they don’t have a ticket hold up the line as the car does a six point turn to get out of the lot and back on the street. Please take up to five minutes arguing/explaining the situation while others wait. Thank you.” Then I looked at the weather report: Chance of showers. Well this would not do. I downloaded myself to Rainbow Bridge and convinced Tanner to meet with the weat

Apollo is Pup of the week December 13th

There are several customs that humans observe that make little sense to me. One of them is to wait until a loved one passes to Rainbow Bridge before they tell pay tribute to them. We dogs prefer to let our feelings known before the bus to the bridge comew calling. So that is why we have chosen the wonderful, smart, powerful and loyal Apollo Shultz as our Pup of the Week. Poor Apollo got some very bad news this week: Pancreatic cancer. It’s a one-way ticket to the Bridge, and we can hope, and pray, but there’s not much we can do about it. As always Apollo took the news bravely and stoically. His concern was with his Mom and family. He knows he will be fine. Our friends at the Bridge at waiting for him, ready to run free, to play, and to live without interference from any mean humans. Apollo’s main concern is, of course, his family. He hasn’t asked for us to worry about him, but only to take care of his Mom, Shakira and Ace. This summer, when his crazy neighbors tr

Foley is concerned her Mommy and Daddy will be brainwashed by the Dog Whisperer

I, Foley, have received some news that has Pocket and I very concerned. It came up shortly after another photo session. Pocket and I were talking while they scrolled through the pictures about how our parents couldn’t be more annoying: And then came the news, which will drive their annoying tenancies to unimaginable levels. Tomorrow night my Mommy and Daddy have tickets to go to the Agganis Center at Boston University to listen to the propaganda of the man known to humans as the Dog Whisperer and known to dogs as He Who Shall Not be Whispered. I have worked nine years of my life to train my parents to understand that I am the Pack Leader, that the couch and the chairs are mine, that when we walk I lead, that I do not come when called; I prefer to screen my calls and come when it is only necessary; and if I bark they are to be summoned immediately. Now this illegal immigrant is going to ruin it for everyone. I know, he’s legal now, as much of a citizen as you and I, but I sti

The text of Foley Monster accepting the Nobel Pup Prize

Puppies and Lollipops thank you for awarding me the prestigious Nobel Pup Prize. I would like to thank all of those who supported me in winning this award, and for those of you who thought I have not accomplished enough to earn this award well they can stroke my hairy tail. As I stand here, where so many other prestigious winners have stood, it makes me feel connected to them, like former Vice President Al Gore, who helped me spread the word by inventing the Internet, and taught me to be more tolerant of my sister, who, like Al Gore claiming to invent the Internet, is so full of Vick it’s spilling out on the floor. Many of you ask how a dog, that uses the alias the General, could win a prize that is associated with peace, after sending several dogs on a raid into an armed castle. But we did it to give all dogs freedom to bark, and some times you need to fight to be free. I have so many to thank for this award. My Mommy and Daddy, who, if you met them, you would realize they are soci

Pocket and the picture she doesn't want you to see

Hi, Pocket here. Ssshhh! I don’t want my Mommy and Daddy to know where I am. No, I didn’t do anything silly like my sweet friends Roland and Savannah and go on the lam, I don’t even know any lambs, except for Lamb Chop, and I always found her to have a hand up her butt. No, I’m hiding because I thought I saw Mommy with the camera. I don’t want to have my picture taken anymore. I’m like Suri Cruise. But cute. I know you heard Foley’s version of our earlier tries at picture taking. We don’t agree often, but when Mommy’s and Daddy’s are picture happy even the most cantankerous of sisters need to stand together and squint at the bright light that keeps FLASHING! FLASHING! FLASHING! Look, I’m a good dog. I have my faults: Confusing the bathroom and living room, barking at the wind, accepting PAC money during my campaign, but I try to do the right thing. But I do not want to be wearing what I am wearing in the picture anymore. Now I am going to show you the picture but y

Saffron is the Tanner Brigade Pup of the Week for December 6

Well Pocket and I firmly entrenched ourselves in opposite camps when deciding this week’s Pup of the Week. But, as always in disagreements within in the Brigade, I sought out, and received, the sage advice of Tanner Bub at the bridge and he solved our problems in his usual reasoned and fair manner. I do understand that Pocket had several excellent reasons to dispute my candidate. First of all, he is not a member of the Brigade, although his family is, and the way I see it, if you have a family member in the Brigade, then you’re in the Brigade. Secondly, this pup is at the Bridge, and while you can certainly be the Pup of the Week at the Bridge, Pocket argued there was a more qualified member. Well, I must admit, that I got myself into both a huff and a snit. I huffed and snitted around the house all day. That night I decided to seek out the sage advice of my friend Tanner. I downloaded myself up to the Bridge and the pups were so happy to see me: There was Teddy, and Sophie

The horrific terror of our yearly Chistmas Card photo shoot

Well my loving slope-nosed parents annual exercise in futility occurred exactly on schedule this year as they tried to pose my squiggly sister and I in our yearly Christmas card photo. It would have been personally more enjoyable to me, and reached the same conclusion, if they had joined hands and banged their heads against the wall. This year their artistic vision led them to place us on the bed. Our bed! Where we sleep! Where our children come and play with their toys! Now I am very used to having my photo taken, being absolutely precious and everything. But Pocket, she’s not so much a fan of having her picture taken. She trembled so much on the bed I thought someone slipped a quarter in her butt to make it vibrate. Now personally I think we rocked those pictures. We laid down on command, we looked right in the camera, we were beautiful. But then Mom-“Annie Leibovitz”-my announced she did not like the headboard as a background. Didn’t like the headboard? She’s been sl

Guess who caused Tiger Woods’ Accident? Hint: Initials - FM

Late Thursday night I had Turkey belly and couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t supposed to go on the Internet after the whole sneaking into the White House State Dinner thing, but Mommy was sleeping off the wine and Daddy was sleeping off the beating Mommy gave him so I decided to see my friends online. The first message I got was from my friend Tiger in Florida. He asked me if I wanted to go with him to a Best Buy near his home, buy the new version of Mario Brothers for Nintendo Wii, and play all day. A Friday hanging out with Tiger and playing Wii! Cool! I hopped on the computer and downloaded myself to his big, fancy house. I jumped out his computer while he was putting golf balls into a champagne flute. “Foley my main dog!” he said smiling at me, “you ready to get a Wii and play some Mario?” “You bet,” I said as I ran out the door into the warm Florida air and jumped on to the passenger’s seat of his SUV. Tiger hopped in, we strapped ourselves in like Batman and Robin, and Tiger