Mollie, and Luca, Junior and Fred are our pups of the week

Happy Halloween. I am happy to report that this week was not at all scary for Brigade members. Paco is still under the weather, and we send good thoughts across the seas every day for our friend. But we haven't had a week with no major illnesses, no scary dog fights or accidents, no hospital trips for parents. So this Halloween lets celebrate the goodness in pups.

One of the attributes I so admire in our little Brigade is the compassion we show to others. At the first sign of trouble we are there to love and support. Personally I think it's an underrated quality in us dogs: compassion

We could recognize every dog here for their compassion, but this week we are going to pick out one pup, and a pack of pups, to share pup of the week, even though I can name the entire Brigade.

This week in the heart of the country there was some terrible, life threatening weather, We were all concerned but two of our members: Mollie, and Luca, Fred and Junior published blogs not about their lives, but checking to make sure their friends in the affected areas were safe. It was the thought on all our minds, but they were kind enough to do it.

Therefore we were able to find out that everyone was all right, even if they experienced some close calls, having to huddle in the cellars and shelters while those terrible tornadoes swirled around them. We don't like those tornadoes at all. We have never experienced them but they sound so scary. We hate hearing they are around any of our friends. I just pray that Tanner Bub and the Angels are blowing them in another direction.

It's not just the horrifying weather that makes us give comfort, but the loss of a pup's friend, like Angel, friend to Bo, Maggie and Sandy, who went the Rainbow Bridge way too soon, or the passing of Mr. Smoochy's very best friend Wiggly Giggly (he wiggled his giggle too much, wiggling the giggle is the number one cause of toy deaths.)

I hope none of our wonderful members take offense for all the generous thoughts and words of comfort they have given without getting this recognition but this recognition also goes to all the pups who have offered us or our friends hope and comfort in troubled waters, and that Mollie and Luca's pack don't get upset that we are asking them to share the award with so many pups (too many to be named.)

It is wonderful to belong to an online community where we know if we are weary, feeling small, if tears are in our eyes, you will dry them off.

So this is for all our wonderful pups, and for their wonderful acts of compassion and concern, Mollie and Luca, Junior and Fred, our very friendly Halloween Pups of the Week.

We know you will always be there for us.


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Mission Accomplished?

I, Foley Monster, believe that my crowning achievement was when I stood in front of the wall at the Doggyspace Castle and announced "Mr. Levi, reopen this thread."

It has been a long and brutal war. I am planning to fly to my own aircraft carrier, stand in front of a "Mission Accomplished" banner, and announce that major combat operations at the Doggyspace Castle have come to a conclusion and we are victorious. Freedom to Bark has come to Doggyspace. Pocket is currently on her way to Versailles to sign the peace treaty.

In another example of how history repeats itself, it was Pokey, whose midnight run had warned us all of the DS invasion, who risked his life and bowels to go to the castle and come back with the news that Princess Levi had removed the muzzle off thousands of the castles inhabitants.

I would like to take the Princess at his word but I remain skeptical. I believe there are still weapons of muzzle destruction stored somewhere in that castle, but as for now it seems Princess Levi is stepping back from moderating what dogs bark and letting them police themselves. This has always worked here at the Brigade. Running a site is easy when you let pups bark, snap and snarl at one another then let them lick and make up.

Most surprisingly is that, when Pocket and I went to sneak into the castle to read the notice of surrender we found the gates wide open and for the first time in more than a year we were able to enter the castle and take a look around.

So it certainly seems like time to break out the Foletinies, set off the silent fireworks, and celebrate that a small, tight knit brigade of purebreds, mutts and lap dogs brought Freedom To Bark to the largest doggy site on the Internet.

But my love of history has taught me that, to truly win a war you must remove the leader of the enemy (see George H.W. Bush vs Saddham Hussien circa 1991) and until I see that Miss Levi has left the palace I will look on the commitment to Freedom to Bark with skepticism.

I know Princess Levi and he is a very clever human. I would not put it past him to drop the rules to try to get back some of his strays and then put those rules right back. He's like a Trojan Yorkie. (Tangent: Why doesn't anyone make procolatives for pups? All that snipping and sucking out, why not little Trojans for dogs? Of course we would not be able to put them on ourselves,as Dr, Larry Banks said "They don't have opposable thumbs Focker!" but really haven't you done more disgusting things for us? No? OK: End of tangent.) He's giving us a gift of peace when really the gift is a giant Yorkie that in the middle of the night craps out little Levis that close all our threads.

So I think Pocket and I are going to sit back and watch what goes on in the castle for awhile. I don't think we could ever go back inside if Miss Levi was still in on the throne.

And even if he wasn't....I don't know. I love it here at the Brigade, this is our home with our best friends. It would be nice to see some old friends, maybe we would vacation there.

But if the war is won, then it was fairly done, and even though we think it is too good to be true, maybe all dogs will have the right to bark freely forever anon.

So for those of you still in the Castle, bark loud and free, and if you get banished, you always have a home here.

Paranormal Activity

Good evening. I am Dr Hitchcock from the Sleepaway Institute. Recently I have been contacted by a one Miss Foley Monster. She had not had a good nights sleep in weeks, and, during a hastily put together family meeting, it was learned that no one in the family is sleeping soundly. Miss Foley weeded through the penis enhancement e-mails on her g-mail account to find a blind e-mail I had sent out to advertise my sleep study practice. I met with the family, and while her Mommy and Daddy seemed reluctant, and her sister Pocket seemed to have bladder control issues, eventually Foley won out, by sticking her tongue out and barking endlessly.

I put my night vision camera in their bedroom, promised it would not be intrusive, and left for the night. I returned in the morning. I retrieved the camera, went to my office, and hooked it to my computer.

The beginning of the evening was routine. A bed was turned down. Foley was picked up. Pocket tried to nip her as she was put on the bed. Daddy get in bed with Foley. They spent some personal time together as Foley tried to lick every sweat gland on his arms and face. Then Mommy came in, she gave the pups some pre-bed kibble, then they got in bed. There was some television watching, some very uncomfortable looking licking, some reading, and finally the lights were turned out and my subjects fell asleep.

Daddy slept on the right side of the bed, Mommy on the left. Pocket slept under the covers cuddled up with her Mommy. Foley slept on top of the blankets. An hour into sleep we had our first activity. Foley arose, stretched, walked up to her Daddy, and sat on his head, after she spun around and settled.

Daddy began to show troubled breathing. As Foley's tail swished in his face he brushed it away like it was a fly. His smothered breathing caused him to snore which woke an annoyed Foley up who went under the covers.

She found Pocket in her favorite spot, curled up where her Mommy's knee bent, and Foley nipped at her to move. Pocket turned and snapped at her and then the two of them began rolling around on the bed fighting over the spot. Their parents stirred slightly then fell back asleep as Foley pinned Pocket to the ground and stole her spot.

Pocket humphed and went to sit on Daddy's head but couldn't get comfortable. She then went to sleep on Mommy's head, but awakened her. She stumbled out of bed to pee. Foley and Pocket moved over to the warm spot on the bed and while she was gone performed Act One of the Mikado. The door opened and they dove back under the covers.

As their Mommy tried to get comfortable Foley led Pocket through the darkness like a Chilean miner looking for a cheese dog. They reached Daddy's bare toes. Foley showed Pocket how to lick all the good stuff in between his toes and they each chose a foot a began to lick. Daddy lay in bed with a grin on his face until Pocket's over active tongue woke him up. He too went to the bathroom to pee. Foley and Pocket went to the warm spot where is butt was. They licked all over the spot then settled down beside their Mom. Daddy got back in bed, rolled over on the wet spot, and lay awake wondering if he had become incontinent.

He fell back asleep and then, for a short time, the four lay together, then the blanket mysteriously began to gently lift. After several lifts Foley came out from under the bed with a grimace on her face. She then barked to Pocket. She came out and Foley began to speak but Pocket reminded her of the famous case of she who smelt it vs she who dealt it and Foley quieted down and climbed under the smelly covers.

Then they began to snuggle closer to their Mommy, and closer, and closer, snuggling, snuggling, pushing, pushing, until they pushed their Mommy right out of bed to the floor. When she thumped on the floor and sat up confused Foley and Pocket ran over to their Daddy and pretended to be asleep while she pulled herself back into bed.

Finally they settled in to sleep, the four of them, and the alarm went off Mommy and Daddy awoke, still very tired, not knowing how they could be so tired after a good night's sleep. They stumbled through the morning getting ready for work, and were soon out the door.

Then Foley and Pocket lay down in the sun finally able to get some rest

Cali and Hurley are our October 24 pups of the week

We must admit here, right off the bat (a metaphor for the upcoming World Series between the Rangers and this pairs favorite team, the San Fransisco Giants) that Pocket and I spend lots of time reaching across the series of tubes that make up the Internet, and the entire country, to out west coast friends, so in our hearts these two are always pups of the week.

But we can't pick who we are closest to each week to wear the POTW crown. If so it would pass between Pocket and I ad nauseam and I try not to use the words Pocket and nausea in the same sentence because it make my tummy rumbly.

But this week has been a torturous roller coaster ride for our pups of the week Cali and Hurley. Their beloved grandma, their Daddy's Mom, a special woman who was loved by her daughter-in-law (wives and mothers-in-law traditionally get along like Yorkies and squirrels), and who wore her Giant socks every night (I don't know if they had the team logo on them or were just really big) held on as long as she could, but the train for the bridge arrived, and she had to leave her broken-hearted family, for dozens of dogs waiting for her, and many more family members, who welcomed her to her permanent home..

Now comes a very difficult time for Cali, Hurley, and their parents, when they have to gather together and say their final goodbyes to their wonderful Grandma.

They haven't been on the Brigade in the last few days while they deal with their grief. But even while they were gone they taught us a wonderful lesson, that miracles can occur.

Because from the Bridge Grandma was able to become an angel in the outfield, making line drives slap into Giants' fielders gloves and turn into double plays; make Giants batters' fly balls sneak over the wall for homeruns, and pitches catch the inside corner for strike three and the Giants win the pennant, the Giants win the pennant.

I hope Cali and Hurley, and their Mom and Dad, were able to enjoy the Giants miraculous win over the Phillies despite their grief, but I believe they did, because they know the victories could not have been won without their angel in the outfield.

So here is to Cali and Hurley, our pups of the week, who showed us that even in our darkest days, when smiles seems impossible, there are Grammy and Grammies, Aunts and Uncles, Mommies and Daddies, and Pup Bridge angels, who, when we least expect it, can sneak in a miracle, and make us smile.

So nothing against you fine Ranger fans, but these two pups are going to be rooting for the Giants, for Cali and Hurley, and for their angel in the outfield.

Because sometimes baseball is about baseball, and sometimes it's about faith.

Where Pocket is stuck between a rock and a gypsy curse

Oh what a dilemma I am facing. I have been made a very generous offer from Kolchak and Felix to become part of their family. Normally I would thank them and say that I am very happy with my own family. My Mom means more than anything to me.

Recently I have discovered that the cloud I was living under was lined with my own delusions. You see, I believed not only that I had a loving Mommy, but a loving big sister too, that was until I found out my sister had offered to loan me out as a treat test taster.

"You love treats, you will get them all day long, this is a great opportunity!" Foley said, wagging her tail nervously, trying to cover her shame.

"I would love to be a treat taste tester," I said, "but I only want to test Mommy's treats. And I don't think you made this offer twice, twice, without meaning it, and in full recognition of gypsy law meaning I would be obligated to go or we would be cursed. Plus Smoochy is a better writer than you are."

"Humph!" Foley said, turning around. I knew I had hurt her feelings but she had hurt mine too (and that was a really good blog by Smoochy.)

She went to snuggle in her blanket and I climbed up in the window hoping a gypsy wouldn't come and turn my Mommy into an old hag and my Daddy into an old.... Well let's move on.

Foley then ran downstairs very excited. She said that she had slept on it and she knew what to do. She threw down her blanket, held up her paws, and said "I've got it! A menage a trios"

I looked at her quizzically. "Wait, that wasn't for this problem. I have to write that down for later." Foley scratched it into the rug. She then turned her attention to me: "To keep the gypsy from our door, but not have you move, we are going to clone you."

She pulled out a q-tip and had me lick it. She then went to the basement where she has her laboratory (personally I think a tiny Yorkie lab is the reason no one wants to buy this place) and half an hour later came up with an almost exact duplicate of me, which she called Pickett Dog. We thought this would be the perfect solution to our quandary until Picket snuck out the door, led a group of rebel dogs against the Union squirrels in a forlorn hope challenge on Little Round Top and got wiped out.

"Open up, time for another swab," Foley said.

Her next product was Pucket. We were getting ready to send her to our good friends when she signed to play center field for the Minnesota Twins then left for any oldies tour with the Union Gap.

There were several other swabs, and several others clones: There was Locket, but she was so small you had to wear her around your neck; there was Socket, who seemed perfect, but if you accidentally slipped your finger into her butt you got a shock that sent you across the room; there was Rockit who barked Ozzy Osborne lyrics all night long' and Fockit, the most foul mouthed little dog you ever did come across. Finally we had to abandon our clone quest because Foley was exhausted and I was out of spit.

Finally Foley admitted her faux pas to Mommy who was not happy. But she assured us that Kolchak and Felix were our friends, and would not really put a gypsy curse on us, and if they did, well, we've been through worse. Maybe the gypsy curse would cancel out some of the other curses that have been dogging us recently.

It seems, from their latest postings, that, while Koly and Felix would love to have me as a sister (let's face it, who wouldn't) they would no longer be intent on putting curse on us, which I am very happy about, because I know they're bad, because whenever anything goes wrong in Charlie Brown's life he says either "Good Grief" or "Curses."

But I do have a compromise to offer. Koly and Felix can send me their treats to test and I will blog about their absolute wonderfulness, or not so much wonderfulness. And, if I chose not to try it the Foley can, because she owes both Mommy and I over the entire gypsy thing.

And on a personal note, I think I would love to be the little sister to Kolchak and Felix. I think they are wonderful pups and would protect me. And they would never get a gypsy curse put one me.

So let's just say I haven't totally closed the door on this idea, my friends.

Love, Pocket Dog

Keep Dr Pocket in mind when you enter the voting booth

I know it is late in the political season, and I have sat on the sideline watching the wheels churn and sputter, but I can no longer keep my yap shut, because I do not see a single candidate anywhere who seems either calm or assertive, I Pocket Dog, am announcing my candidacy for everything.

It doesn't matter if it's the Senate race in Nevada or the Governor's race in Massachusetts. If you can't stand the choice you're left with when you step into the voting booth then write in "Dr Pocket Dog, Citizen of Earth."

I am not expecting to win any of these contests but if I were to win one, or win them all, I will serve each seat I am elected to. Through video conferencing and e-mail I can be a Senator from Delaware, the Governor of New York and the mayor of Wasilla Alaska.

Plus I will not accept any salary for the positions I am elected. I do not need money. I need a ball to chase, Mommy's warm lap, and a snuggly bed to sleep in. Plus those people who pester politicians in lobbies won't be able to influence my vote. I could be persuaded by some lawyer bearing kibble, but there is only so much even I can eat. So while I may be eating out of the palm of their hands, I won't let them persuade my vote because, by the time I get into chambers, I will have forgotten who supplied the tasty treats.

I have heard that some candidates don't know what is in the Constitution. I am not sure what is in the human Constitution. I only know what's in our Constitution. I can sit on Mommy's lap right up to the moment that Foley wants to, then I have to skedadle.

I don't have anything to bad to say about my opponents. I am sure they are all good people. But boy, do they all say bad things about one another on the TV. I don't know why. It's like when Foley and I are looking at a bag of kibble. She's looking at one side where there is a picture of a dog eating, and I'm looking at the other side where the ingredients are listed and we get in a big fight over what's on the bag. We become so rooted in our opinion about what's on the bag that we bark bad blogs about it. But it's only because we haven't got up and looked at what's on the other side of the bag. But us pups are much more curious than humans and we're willing to get up and walk to the other side to see that we are both right. If only humans could get up and look to see things from the other side they would realize it's all the same bag.

Plus I am not afraid to own up to my mistakes. Robert Byrd never admitted to peeing on the floor. I will say I did. And I won't have any problem crossing the aisle. Especially if someone is eating potato chips.

So, when you go into the voting booth on election day, and you look at the list of candidates, and you don't like a whiff of their butts, and no one jumps up to nip at your heels, write in the name Dr. Pocket Dog: Citizen of Earth.

You won't regret it. I promise.

This was paid for by the committee to elect any one else besides the clucks who are actually running to an elected office.

Our perfect severance package from Hattie Mae

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. You would never guess what came to my house today addressed to me. Pocket Dog. Give up. It was a costume of a centipede from the greatest dog in the whole wide world who just fired our asses: Hattie Mae!

I ripped it open with my teeth and then jumped back. She had sent me a giant bug. Firing someone isn't nice but sending then a giant bug in the mail? Is her name Hattie Mae Montana? But then we sniffed it all over and realized it was something Mommy was never going to buy us. It was a training treat made of lime ice cream we could eat for days. We tuned our twitters and sniffed again and realized it was something else Mommy would never buy: A Halloween costume.

"It's mine, it's mine, it's addressed to me!" I barked. Foley humphed at me. "I don't allow myself to be dressed up in costume," she said. "I have my dignity."

She could have her dignity, I had a wicked cool bug costume. And I was going to be in the Halloween parade. Nothing had made me this happy since breakfast. I pawed at the costume wanting to get it put on immediately but Mommy insisted Daddy take me out to pee while she figured how it went on.

I hurried back inside and jumped on Mommy's lap sniffing and nipping at my costume. Then it was time to suit up.



I was so excited to get the first picture taken that I might have rushed it and not had the costume on right so we decided to give it another shot



I was rather stubborn about not having my bow covered up so the costume was sitting off my head a little bit but I think I am modeling it quite nicely. As you can see I am showing my teets (Foley says they are feet, I'm not sure.)

Then Foley decided that I wasn't wearing it right, and I wasn't showing the right amount of fright. So she decided to wear it too, just to show me who looks better. What do you think?



Foley is a little frightening, but I have more panache. We will let you decide.

And to sweet Hattie, you have given us more fun today than any two dogs could ask. Sorry we didn't do a better job representing you. We will do anything to get back in your good graces. Just let us know. And thanks you and your perfect Mom so much.

You're the best.

Smartie is our October 17, 2010 pup of the week

We have a little pup of the week conundrum this week, since our choice does not appear listed as a member. He is the sibling of one of our most beloved members but is not included in a profile. I was contemplating naming this blog, and the rawhide plaque presented to the winner, with the words: "Dog Hattie Mae nearly killed is our pup of the week."

There are many reasons to avoid this label. Firstly: We are representing Hattie Mae in any legal matter that may transpire from this incident. For her Attorneys to publish a blog so titled may be seen as an admission of our belief in her guilt.

So let's just say that there was an little accident between Hattie, and her sister, who is not a member of our Brigade, I'm not sure why, maybe she is insecure, maybe she doesn't like the whiff of our butts. But for whatever reason she isn't here, she is a member in our hearts.

Now this is what happened. Hattie's family had a tragic lint back up. A problem of the magnitude of the Chilean Miner disaster if we cared enough about fluff. A dryer repairman came and Hattie's siblings, Smartie and Fella were locked in a room so the repairman, his pup, and his son could take could fully appreciate the Hattie Mae experience.

The lint was rescued, the repairman and his pack vacated, and Fella and Smartie were set free. But somehow they emerged in an improper order. For years the sequence has been established, Fella emerges, Hattie snaps at him, Smartie smartly passes them by.

Well something unprecedented happened, which Hattie could not possibly have been able to foretell. Smartie left the room first. It may have been confusion. It may have been the start of a conspiracy against her by dark forces to discredit her. Whatever it was it caused a totally innocent Hattie to look very guilty.

Well Hattie latched on to Smartie thinking it was Fella and a real bro-hah-hah broke out. They had to be separated. Hattie's Mom grabbed her and gave her a good looking over and pronounced her fine. Their Dad did the same with Smartie. But, as we all know, if Daddy is checking you over, you are getting the short end of the stick.

The next morning Hattie's Mommy noticed that a Saw movie had been shot in their bedroom. There was blood everywhere. After further examination they found out the Smartie had a broken tooth that bled all night. (As her attorney may I point out that the crime that Hattie has been accused of is breaking Smartie's tooth with her ear.)

Now I must say Smartie proved herself to be a very brave dog. She must have been in horrible pain, and she didn't even make a whimper. I don't know many dogs who would have done that, so a big tip of the tail to Smartie who didn't complain about her injured tooth that was totally an accident.

Smartie had to go to the vet. She had a big cut on her tongue. (Sometimes I do that when I chew my food too fast, it's certainly a no fault injury) She had worn down the root of a tooth, and had a crown put on another one. (OK ladies and Levi, all together, let's dance: Put a crown on it, dah dah dah dah dah dah, put a crown on it, dah dah dah dah dah dah.)

She was very brave at the vets and didn't complain when she came home even though she was in terrible pain. She's going to have to be on soft food (ick) and take pills (double ick), for two weeks, which is like three months in dog time. If a human had to do this we would never here the end of it.

So, for being such brave girl and not bothering anyone despite her accidental injury, for being so brave at the vets, and being so brave in her recovery, Smartie is our Pup of the Week.

(OK Hattie, does this settle things with her? I still say you might have to offer a couple of dresses but I think we're close to settling this civil action with her. For heaven's sake, no nipping until it is settled.)

The Pawnight show with host Foley Monster and guest DS Levi

Pocket: Live from the Tanner Brigade Mansion it's Pawnight Show with your host: Foley Monster along with Hobo Hudson and his all mutt orchestra, accompanied by the beautiful Hattie Mae. Foley's guest tonight is the owner of the DS Castle: Mr. Levi himself. I'm your announcer Pocket Dog. And now here's Foley.

(A shot of Hattie Mae leading the band, and a close up on Hobo
playing the trumpet and then Foley walks from behind the curtain wagging her tail She bows to the audience then jumps up on the love seat. Shethen motions for Pocket who runs up and sits next to her and they both paw to the audience.)

Foley: Thank you. Welcome. You're in for a really great show. We
have Mr Levi from the DS Castle. (Mild booing from the audience.) Now, he was nice enough to come here so I am sure we can give him a
Tanner Brigade welcome. (She turns to Pocket.) How was your weekend?

Pocket: Well you know Mommy and Daddy went to that outdoor
wedding. We didn't get to go and I don't know why. We would have been so good there. And Mommy said she was cold. We could have kept her
warm. It was just such a missed opportunity.

Foley: I could tell when they got home that they were pretty warm from all the Foleytinis they drank?

Pocket: How does drinking keep you warm?

Foley: You know because they're a little silly, you know, stumbly, you know.

Pocket: Oh, bazinga!

Foley: Well let's bring him out because we don't want anything to disappear from the green crate we have
him in. He started a small social network named DS and turned it into a business worth almost hundreds of dollars. Lets give a big Tanner Brigade welcome to DS Levi.

(Small smattering of applause)

Foley: Welcome Levi, nice to have you here.

Levi: Hey, thanks you know, like it's good to be here. Yo, I'm just here to set it straight you know?

Pocket: Not really, no, what the hell are you talking about?

Foley: Relax Pocket. I talk Jersey. Now you have recently said
you would let children into the castle if they pay for a premium membership, what were you thinking there?

Levi: Ok, yo, you know how there's sites where you got adults and kids, and the adults they pretend to be kids to meet kids, well yo, check this out. You see those sites the dudes pay to talk to the kids. You know that's wrong 'cause you know, Dudes shouldn't be paying to talk to kids, that's sick. But yo, check this out. We flipped that mofo. See we got the kids paying to talk with the adults. See the kids are paying to be preyed upon.
That makes it beautiful.

Foley: What do these children get with their premium membership?

Levi: When they hit adulthood, their first three visits to a therapists: totally free, as long as it's not in the US. Plus they are allowed into our most special group made just for adults and kids. It's called Newfoundlands, Akitas. Malteses, Beagles, Labradors,and Affenpinschers. Or NAMBLA.

Foley: Aren't you worried maybe by allowing young children on to the site you might be inviting the wrong type of member?.

Levi: Foley, this is America. There is no such thing in this country as someone who can afford a premium membership being a bad person.

Foley: What other new services are you offering?

Levi: There is our wicked cool premium gold membership for members who have left and we are trying to lure back. You pay us $200.00 and we give you unlimited access to the site between 3:00 AM and 5:00 AM eastern on weekends.

Foley: You recently suspended my friend Zoey for asking for votes in a contest, but you let other pups beg for votes, why was Zoey
singled out?

Levi: Well that was Zoey's fault. She did not buy our Really Awesome Vote for Me membership. If you buy one of them then not only will we allow you to ask for votes, but we automatically add 1,000 votes to your total each day for the price of $18.95 a month.

Foley: Is that fair?

Levi: Of course it's fair Foley. Yo, if someone wants their dog win some whatever cutest, funniest, most hip hop dog contest, then they need to pay me, the Big L. If they don't pay me they lose. Either way I win.

Foley: I recently read a blog post of yours which said that if
people didn't follow the rules you would ban first and ask questions later. Do you think that one strike policy is fair to us pups who sometimes bark without thinking?

Levi: Yo, it sure does. Keeps everyone on their toes. One mistake and they're gone. You don't mess with the Big L.

Foley: Do you think that is fair.

Levi: Sorry, this thread is closed.

Foley: But we have many viewers who want to know....

Levi: I can't hear you, thread closed!

Foley: But about this rule....

Levi: Cut to baby taking off her clothes. Close-up of the sign that says "Thread Closed."

Foley: You just can't say Thread Closed whenever you don't want to talk to someone.

Levi: So we closed our thread and said goodbye to gypsy angel row

Foley: Fine! We'll let it go. God, you're just so infuriating. Thread closed!

Levi: God bless America, land that I thread closed.

Foley: Yeah, right we get it. One final question. Pocket and I saw The Social Network. We gave it eight paws up.

Pocket: That's partially because I was on my back asleep.

Foley: Thank you Pocket. Now Levi, I was wondering why you, who runs a large social network, is not featured in the movie?

Levi: I was in the movie but it got cut. There's the scene where the Facebook creator gets a little sexy time with a girl in a bathroom stall. My scene was right after that. When they were done I was the attendant who cleaned the floor. That's kind of how the Big L seeshimself. Guys like Zukerman they have all these creative juices.
Sometimes they spill out on the floor. I'm the guy who mops them up antries to profit from their overflow.

Foley: Well, with that I'd like to say thread closed.

Levi: What? I still have lots to say. I'm trying to get on Dancing with the Stars. The Big L could be bigger then the Huff. And you're going to close my thread? What's up with that? (He gets up and starts to dance.) What's up with that, what's up with that, what's up with that,what's up with that.

Foley: God he's still such a massive tool

Pocket: Yeah but he's a good dancer

Foley: Why's he squishing?

Pocket: I might have peed in his shoe.

Foley: You're a good girl Pocket. Good night everyone!













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Paco is our October 10, 2010 pup of the week

This has been another hard week here at The Tanner Brigade. There is a pup who my heart says I should make pup of the week. He went to the bridge in the most violent of circumstances. But our old friend Petey said any tributes would make his Mom's suffering worse, which we certainly don't mean to do. But he and his Mom are in our hearts and prayers.

You know who is also in our hearts and prayers? Our Pup of the Week: He hasn't been doing well lately. He has been suffering from some house wetting issues (unlike Pocket who makes the rest of us suffer from her house wetting issues.)

We had named this Pup last week in our list of those who could be Pup of the Week last week, but as dire as his circumstances were last week, they have even got worse this week as we learned his Grandpa was ill.

But there is another reason to name this good boy Pup of the Week. Today is his birthday. Or yesterday was his birthday because time is different wherever you go. Another one of those stupid human things.

So, if you have yet to deduce, our Pup of the Week is our Italian friend Paco. As they say in Italy C'est Magnifique. (Pocket just got snarky and told me that this is French, not Italian. Well, I'm sure French people say this in Italy. They must be allowed to speak French in Italy. So back off little sister.)

We do love Paco. He posts the cutest comments, especially when we use pop culture references and phrases he is unfamiliar with. He's also the sweetest pup, never a bad word to bark at any pup.

We hope his Grandpa does better, and Paco's health concerns are treated easily, and that he has enjoys birthday number twelve, even if it's already over, or if it hasn't happened yet (really why can't we be the same day and time everywhere humans?)

We would be remiss if we did not give special mention to four of our favorite pups: Fred, Junior and Luca; and Hattie. We had a little misunderstanding between members this week (not them). Some nipping, some snarling, some hurt feelings. Hopefully we have put all the unpleasantness behind us. We could not have done so without the patience, the understanding, and the persuasiveness of these pups and my tip of the tail to my valued Consiglierees.

So happy birthday Paco and happy Pup of the Week week. You are truly deserving.

The revenge of the Earth

For my enitre life, each morning, Daddy awakens us, and takes us outside, sometimes in the dark, so we can pee and vick, on the ground. I never suspected that the ground was upset. But lately the Earth has been mounting a counter attack.

I can't say it came without warning. The past few mornings as we took our constitutional I heard a popping sound then water splashing. I had incorrectly assumed that our neighbor Frank'n'beans had awoken for an early morning pee and popped a beer to ease the flow. I did not realize it was a warning shot from an Earth that was finished with being mistreated by two Yorkies.

Finally the Earth had enough and rebelled. We awoke at the regular time, but Daddy spent more time downstairs than usual because he heard a beeping sound. It took him a few seconds to realize it wasn't the normal beeping he hears in his head. He went downstairs and found a carbon monoxide detector that had it's batteries expired. He got upstairs to us a few minutes later,

He took us out and we went to the gazebo. Pocket squatted to pee and I waited patiently, ready to top her pee, for the first move in our years old pissing contest. I heard the popping sound and turned to see if the lights were on at Franks'n'Beans house when I heard Pocket let out a squeal. I turned to where she had been standing but she wasn't there anymore.

There was a huge spurt of water coming off the ground, and on top of it was Pocket, riding it as it crested, somehow wearing sunglasses and singing her version of Surfer Girl:

"Little Pocket
High off the grass
Getting water
Splashed on her ass
Little Pocket
She's a surfer girl
Surfer girl
Surfer girl"

Daddy was able to reel her in using the flexi leash and Pocket landed on the ground giggling. I ran to my silly sister to tell her that the ground was enacting a long stewed upon plan to repay us for our years of abuse. As I did it fired off another bomb soaking all three of us. Daddy pulled us into the house like John Cuscak dragging Amanda Peet into the space shuttle in 2012.

If that was the end of our morning problems I would be sleeping better at night, but it was not. But Pocket and Daddy decided to fix the beeping carbon monoxide detector. I don't now how much Pocket had to do with it but they fixed it wrong. Daddy snapped in the last battery and it went BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

While Daddy frantically tried to get the battery out Pocket ran around the house like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man after burning the waffles. Daddy had to use a knife to dislodge the offending battery. He then held Pocket who was trembling like six strawberries in a blender. He slowed down her blending speed and made the right choice to let Mommy handle it. That is our default position. Let Mommy do it. Works every time.

The last few mornings the Earth hasn't exploded until we've made it back inside. It's almost like it's on a timer or something. I drag Pocket, who is attached to me by leash, around the circle every morning, as I secretly believe she would like nothing better than be our Surfer Girl again..

But heed my warning humans and pups., The Earth is angry and it's retaliating. Every time I pee on it I apologize and beg it's forgiveness. I suggest you do the same.

Because Daddy won't be there the next time the Earth turns an innocent pup into a surfer girl.

Brody is our October 3, 2010 pup of the week

Pocket and I had so many Pup of the Week candidates this week we have spent hours, arguing, snarling, and nipping at one another, and still, as my paws slip over the keyboard, we haven't been able to decide on who should receive the honor.

There are our trio of dogs who have been beset with seizures: Dodger, Cocoa Puff and Fella. Having a seizure is not a very rewarding experience for a pup, We awaken trembling, panting, breathing hard, with our bodies feeling like we had chased a squirrel up a tree and fell off. But we're not aware of the seizure itself. It is their poor Moms who have to brace for the onslaught of worries these seizures trigger (not to mention the fear of the cost from the dogtor)

Our friend MacDougal freaked out his Mom, not just with regular diarrhea but with the dreaded bloody diarrhea, but hopefully a dogtor visit has cleared that up. It still caused his Mom a sleepless night.

There is our only cat who has received Pup of the Week, Boots, who left home, again, and returned home, again, in a blatant ploy to win twice in the same month, but we're not going to be fooled by that Sister Disco.

There is Zoey who got thrown out of the castle by the Princess' guards. But the amount of votes Zeoy received in the cutest puppy contest after her banishment was quite a reward for her.

And what about Hobo Hudson who had his worms stolen. It may not seem much to you, but you've probably never had your worms stolen. If you did you would certainly understand it is a pup of the week event.

There is poor Smoochy who got left alone when his Mom got stranded on another side of a bridge during a storm leaving them both lost in the flood. Smoochy spent all night alone with the wind blowing like thundering horses and the rain falling down like waves crashing through the roof, He and his Mom were reunited in the morning but they still shook for lives.

Finally poor Paco has peeing problems. Hopefully it is just an infection and can be cleared up with medication, but he still needs our prayers.

All of these Pups could be our Pup of the Week but we are going with the Pup who went through the most harrowing experience, one that none of us would want to go through.

Us dogs are loyal to and love our humans more than anything. All of the above pups had something happen to them. But this pup had something happen to one of his humans, and what he is going through, if we had the choice, we would rather put up with floods, seizures, peeing and missing worms.

Something happened to Brody's Dad. No one knows what. But he is very. very, sick. He is a young man, barely having started his life, and has a beautiful baby boy. His is in isolation in the hospital as they try to find out what is wrong with him, and neither of his babies, Blake or Brody, can come visit him,

We are going to have to do what we do best, come together as a Brigade, and do some big time praying for Brody's Dad. We are also going to have to contact the Bridge Angels and ask them to work their magic too. Brody needs our help. He misses his Dad and is terribly worried. He wants to make everything better for his Mom but can't. He even knows little Brady is scared.

It has been a week that shaped up to be a big box of vick. While there are plenty of pups with hard weeks, and who are in need of our prayers, we need to save our special one for Brody, Blake and their Mom and Dad. We so need a happy ending on this one. Let's pray we can make it happen.