Sunday, September 30, 2012

Tashi and Tiara are our September 30, 2012 Pups of the Week

Most of the friends I have are ones I have known half my lifetime and Pocket has known her entire life.  But each year brings the possibility, and then the reward, of new friends, and two new friends that have added pleasure to our lives, and the lives of the pups around us, are Tashi and Tiara (not to mention Angel Lovey at the Bridge.)

They don’t just make us laugh, or warm our hearts, but they, like saw many good friends, watch out for us.  First, they are our little watch dogs.  Whenever there is a food or treat recall, like the town barkers, they are the first to yelp, warning us of the danger, and giving us all the information we need to know.  Then their Mom posts wonderful homemade recipes.  I ask you, how could there be better friends, they warn you about bad food and tell you how to make good food?  Who could ask for more?

Tashi and Tiara hit all the marks that you want from an online pup friend.  There are scary moments where we pray for them, like when Tiara suddenly started losing fur on her legs (she is on the road to her full hairy glory.)  There are adventure stories like when poor Tashifell out of a boat and had to be rescued ending up a soaked mess.  They go to town barker mode when they learn a puppy Mom is sick, like when Blazer’s Mommy was in the hospital for four days.  They show great sympathy for struggling pups posting reminders to click on the free kibble page.  They make us laugh with stories about the mysterious murder of Tashi’s gator, and employee working pups like Pocket Dog Private Dog who proved that Tiara was the culprit and Foley Monster Attorney at Paw who got Tiara cleared of the charges.  (And we earned kibbles from both ends on this.)

Also, not to be forgotten is their big sister Angel Lovey who wrote the most beautiful poem to her Dad from the Bridge.  Usually, when we read something this well written, we delete it because we want to be the best writers, but this was so beautiful we left it alone.  

Here it is, in the words of Angel Lovey:


What more can I say about this pack.  Town barkers for dog and human emergencies, great story tellers, great dog friends, great writers.  A pack truly deserving of recognition and we are so lucky that they are our friends.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Foley Ruminates on Clifford the Big Red Dog's 50th Birthday

I was eating my breakfast and reading my copy of the Daily Dog when I saw listed in the birthday section that Clifford the Big Red Dog had turned 50.  That certainly is a ripe old age for a dog but I am sure he works out and takes care of himself.  Still, at his weight it is surprising.

Frankly, I am not a fan of Clifford.  His living situation never made a lot of sense to me.  I know he is very friendly, and he helps humans out of countless situations, but isn’t that due to just his size and not any great intellectual ability?  I mean if I was 20 times the size of the largest human I certainly wouldn’t have to work as hard as I do to make my humans’ life better.

But there are just some things about Clifford that I can’t wrap my little brain around.  To feed a dog like Clifford you would need several bags of premium kibble a day.  You would have to be earning a huge income.  But Clifford seems to be living in a middle class suburb.  How could a nice middle class family afford that large food bill?    Pocket said that perhaps they were a rich family but spent so much in dog food that had to live in a smaller home, which was possible.  Also Clifford lives on an island after outgrowing his city home, but how did Clifford get on the island?   I am sure he could have swum but when he got out of the water and shook off he would have flooded the island.  I can’t imagine a boat big enough to carry him over, and, if there were multiple boats involved, how could Emily Elizabeth’s family could have afforded it?   Pocket thinks that no one would name their child Emily Elizabeth, especially on an island as white as Clifford’s, and thinks that the family is in witness protection, which is why they are on the island, and the government transported Clifford on an airplane carrier.  Since Emily Elizabeth’s parents are seldom seen I think Pocket may be onto something with the whole witness protection thing.

Clifford is often seen giving those he loves big licks but I know from personal experience that little things stick to dogs tongues.  I have to believe that at least on one occurrence Clifford must have licked someone right down his throat.  Pocket things it may have been some wise guy which is why the family is in witness protection.  She’s really put a lot of thought into this Clifford thing.

Then there is Clifford lollipop friend Cleo.  She is described as being sneaky and having a sharp tongue. She knows how to get others to do what she wants and is famous for playing tricks and getting her friends in trouble, though she always feels bad about it. Whenever one of them questions the quality of a plan, she is famous for saying, "Have I ever steered you wrong?"  She is a bit bossy and likes to lure her friends into temptations.  Obviously this entire character is based on Hattie Mae and I am more than ready to represent her on any legal action she wishes to take against Scholastic Books.  After that I can address the similarities between Harry Potter and Pokey Lunn.

Finally, and most problematic, is, as you may have imagined, what do you do with the large amount of vicks that Clifford must produce”   To me this is the loose nail that brings the whole structure down.  But Pocket, who at five, is maturing nicely, has given me a second idea which rebuilds the structure.  What if Birdwell Island where Clifford lives isn’t an island and all, but just a giant pile of Clifford’s vick in the ocean which continues to be built with more and more vick?  Then Clifford could pay for his existence by creating new real estate that pays for his food and care.  And that is the mystery of Clifford and Birdwell Island.

Don’t scoff.  You must admit I solved the mystery of Clifford and the island a lot better than those humans did after seven years of Lost.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Our Cousin Riley is Moving on and Moving Up

This is the story of my cousin Riley who moved away.  Riley has blogged now and then, when his sister Bailey went to the Bridge, when Neely joined the Brigade, when his sister/Mom Maddie hurt her leg and was sad that she couldn’t dance.  Now Riley has moved on to a new forever home.

There were some problems with Riley.  She was a mismatched dog in the wrong house.  Riley is a boxer who needs lots of exercise not to be crazy house dog.  But with two working parents and two young humans in the house Riley didn’t get that exercise time and she became crazy house dog.

Then there is our eight year old granddaughter Meghan, who does not like to be called Mini Mae (which her soccer coach calls her), or Meggie Mayhem because she causes so much mayhem (we stole this from Cocoa’s Mom) or Fred, which Daddy calls her because she doesn’t like being called Fred and he’s the kind of Papa who likes to make his little granddaughters mad and then wonder why he has teeth marks on his arm, she has allergies that are caused by pet dander.  While Neely is hypoallergenic, as well as being freaking hyper, he does not cause Meghan to sneeze or make her eyes water,or to bloat up like the Stay Puff Marshmallow man, it was determined that Riley did, through no fault of her own, those thing to happen.

There also were problems between Riley and Neely.  Riley is a big dog, a Boxer, and Neely is a small dog, a Shih Tzu, and, as is so often the case, the little dog was scaring the living Vick out of the big dog.  Since Neely arrived in the home in April he has been cited several times by Judge Grey Hound for dog on dog crime including humping Riley while she was lying in the sun and often mistaking Riley’s leg for his chew toy, which the big girl took in good humor, but she started to lose fur around her ankles.

Finally at the end of last week, given the problems with Meghan’s health, and Riley not being able to reach his full dog potential with his current family, Riley’s parents began to look for a new home for her.  Much like with Molly Mae she found a home with two boys who would like nothing more to play with her, another big dog in the house, and parents with time to give them long walks.

We didn’t spend a lot of time with Riley.  I think we spent one night.   She didn’t bother us much.  She drove Mommy a little crazy.  Whenever my parents were at their house for supper Riley would go under the table, find Mommy, bury her face in her crotch and let loose a week full of slobber.  Mommy would stand up with a dripping crotch and everyone would say “Oh Mommy!” and she would say that Riley had slobbered all over her but on one believed that.  I think she did it to Daddy too but he enjoyed it.

So now Neely is an only dog and Riley is on to her new life.  I know it was the right decision for everyone involved (even though Pocket is more paranoid about Neely than ever, thinking if he can get rid of a big dog he liked what could he do with a little dog like Pocket?)  

But don’t forget your little Yorkie cousins Riley.  You will always be in our heart.  

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Toby is our September 23, 2012 Pup of the Week

Some weeks picking a pup to honor is difficult because it’s a friend that we lost or is sick, or we have to give it some thought, and thinking gets in the way of napping.  But this week was easier than getting four runs off the Red Sox bullpen in the late innings.  It was a dog that just last week we hadn’t met yet and didn’t have a name.  But now all we have to say is Toby.

Toby won the Mom and Pack lottery when he went from being a homeless little pup in a shelter in North Carolina to a member of the Lunn Family with Pokey and Maggie.

Their Mom is one of the great Mom warriors.  She rescues pups, she drives long distances to transport saved pups, she gives countless hours to our cause and she has rescued four pups that we know of starting with Pokey.  Her second attempt at rescuing turned tragic when the dog turned on her and removed a large chunk of her arm.   It left her unable to work, in severe pain, and in need of several operations that covered several months.  No one would blame Pokey’s Mom is if she never rescued another pup.  But first she rescued Maggie, and now Toby.

Waiting for a rescue to arrive at your house is as stressful as waiting for a pup to arrive from what are called my forbidden frozen zones.  Both ways to get a pup are in the Lord’s hands.  There are plenty of people who are involved in getting a rescue to your home while the only humans who like to watch puppies coming out of the frozen zone are sickos!  

Pokey’s Mom had to go through so many tests to make sure she was qualified to raise Toby.  Now I am all for this.  I mean we dogs are the master mammals and there should be tests to make sure people can take care of us.  We aren’t human babies for heaven sakes, which any two idiots can make.  (I saw how in a movie Daddy was watching when Mommy was away.  Sickos.)

But the waiting is for approval is so stressful.  Then they start the transport. I have the highest regards for the humans who do transports.  Pokey’s Mom is one herself.  But since I have received my high rise sherap car seat I have seen the way non pup carrying drivers drive and holy Vick.  No wonder we worry so much we out humans leave us.  Everyone is either speeding past us or in the way.  It’s amazing anyone ever gets anywhere.  

But the wonderful people got Toby home safely.  His name wasn’t Toby when was in transport.  We had a contest to name Toby.  But in the end Pokey’s Mom named him Toby from a suggestion of a off line friend.  (I know, who isn’t online? but we will let is pass because she’s a wonderful Mom.)  When he arrived home she christened him Toby (no truth in the rumor she broke a champagne bottle over his head when she christened him.

Now we must recognize the two wonderful pups who welcomed him, Maggie and Pokey.  Pokey has been with his Mom the longest and he is such a gentleman.  When I went to visit him he was very accommodating and quite sweet.  He has welcomed many pups in his homes, some to visit and some to live and he has always accepted them into his pack.   
This was the first dog that Maggie had to welcome into the pack and she followed the wonderful example set by Pokey and helped make Toby one of the family.  She even accepted Toby taking over her old duty of following their Mom wherever she went.  Now he is a true member of the Lunn Pack enjoying the porch, his fenced in backyard, and his wonderful family
Pokey’s Mom has had more than her share of health issues that still seem to linger and she could use some prayers to help her heal.  She is truly a wonderful woman, and she had helped us meet Toby who has become one of our closest friends.  On Sundays I like to honor friends and I am so excited to be recognizing a friend who has his future days ahead of him.
Without Pokey’s wonderful Mom who knows what would have happened to Toby.  But now he is loved by hundreds of online friends, and he, his pack, and his Mom, are the luckiest mammals in the world.

Friday, September 21, 2012

The Return of Orkie the Yorkie

Yesterday Daddy took us outside to the back gardens to do our business.  When we came back in Pocket went barking mad.  She was yapping her head off.  We looked through the screen door on the other side of the porch and there he was, Orkie the Yorkie.

“What are you doing here Orkie?” I asked, because he was sans leash and sans owner

“I just ran out the door! Pant.  Pant.”  The excited little fellow said. “Mommy yelled at me to stop but I just kept running.  Pant.  Pant.”

“Oh Orkie, you have to stop running away from home,” I said.  “You turn right around and get back.”  But Pocket was standing with her paws on one side of the screen door with the broken latch, Orkie and the other, while I was barking for him to go home.  Daddy, concerned that Pocket was going to get outside, and that Orkie was going to run of into the street,  simply became overwhelmed.

He yelled “Sweety,” in a loud voice because he wanted Mommy to take us.  From the bathroom she yelled “Whatdayawant?”  

“Come here!” he yelled and she came out and saw Orkie trying to break into house.  
“Oh, he escaped again.” Mommy said.  Daddy picked us up and handed us to  

Pocket kept barking at Orkie “Our house, our house, our house, our house.”  She is very territorial.  I kept telling Orkie to go home.  Daddy took Pocket’s leash outside.  Orkie stood on his back legs begging Daddy to give him a tour of the legendary Foley Monster leopard skin vagina kitty condo but Daddy just leashed him and began to walk him towards his house.

He only got a few steps down the road when he saw Orkie’s Mom in a car slowly driving down the road.  Daddy picked Orkie up and told the woman that he believed he had something of hers.  He offered to walk Orkie home but the woman said she would take him in the car.  She told Daddy that it was the second time Orkie had got out today and she was thinking about selling him but she didn’t sound like she really meantvto, just a threat to try to keep him in line.  Daddy kindly tried to tell her that, since she has a porch like we do, not to allow Orkie on the porch so he can’t run out when the door opens but after Daddy said it Orkie’s ears perked up because there was a whistling sound coming from her ears.

She put the car in reverse and began to back up leaving Daddy with an empty leash.  But that was OK.  As long as the humans drive their cars slowly here, and are aware of a star struck Yorkie escape artist, then we should be seeing Orkie soon.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

From the Files of Foley Monster: Attorney At Paw. The Case of Arnie, the Spontaneously Cash Pooping Beagle

I need to apologize to my many Florida friends.  Yesterday I downloaded myself there for a quick court appearance to defend one of our brethren.  Because of a pressing engagements at home, supervising gardening and keeping Mommy’s lap warm during the post gardening nap, I was unable to visit you.  Hopefully next time I am in town I will bark by.
This was my client.  
His name is Arnie.  He is a 10 year old beagle from Clearwater Florida.  He was accused of eating $275.00 of his parents cash.  When I was contacted I knew it would be a difficult case, his guilt looked assured when he pooped out the bills, torn in half and chewed up.  But I bark for the barkless so I downloaded myself to his home, where he was inside a crate, under house arrest.

When I scratched at the door his parents were reluctant to let me talk to their client, as is true with most parents who think they have a perp pup.  But I had a signed order from Judge Puggle allowing me access to all accused pups.  They reviewed the paperwork, contacted their human lawyer, and I was allowed inside.
I sat down outside Arnie’s crate.  I nosed open my briefcase.  I told him that the facts looked incriminating but we were going to work very hard to prove his innocence.   I then repeated the lawyer credo for him.  Win if you can, lose if you must, but always cheat.  

I asked him if there was anything that might make the case worse and he said no in the slow drawl that southern beagles bark in.  I said this was good.  I then went over the case of the missing $275.00.  He said it was in his Mommy’s purse and while she was sleeping he had nosed it open, pulled out a number of bills and ate them.  When I asked him why he said he needed change for the soda machine.  I buried my face in my paws .
I got some other pertinent information.  The incident happened at night.  His Mom worked, came home late, and was tired.  She had left the bag open so the money was readily accessible.  I quickly came up with my defense.  His Mommy, in her tired state, had put her purse on the dinner table.  It got tipped over, the money spilled out of the bag, on to the table, where it was caught by the air conditioner and the fan, lifted off the table, and into Arnie’s food dish, which he, also tired, then ate without realizing there was money in it.   Since the family had recovered the Vick covered money, had taken pictures of it, then taken it to Florida’s most unlucky bank teller, who had not only given them Vick free money, but was on the witness list to testify against Arnie.  There was no way I could create reasonable doubt that the money was not eaten, but I could create doubt that it was Arnie’s fault.

Justice in the animal world is fast and we got a trial before Judge Grey Hound later that day.  The prosecution went first and they showed pictures of the Vick covered poo and the statement from the teller.  The parents testified that they had last seen the money in the Mom’s purse before she went to bed.  Then the Prosecuting Attorney asked if Arnie had any priors.

“Yes,” his mother said.  “Seven years ago he ate $100.00.”

I was stunned to hear this.  Arnie had said he had no priors.  I asked him why he didn’t tell me about the $100.00.  “I forget,” he said.

I jumped up on my paws and asked for an hour break so I could prepare myself after hearing the new testimony.  We walked into a secure room in the courthouse and I called Pocket.  I told her what I needed for her to do.  She protested because she is an honest dog but, after several minutes,  because she is a great sister, she agreed.  She also is afraid I will nip her in her sleep.

Pocket showed up a half hour later with $100.00 from Mommy’s purse.  I pawed it to Arnie and told him to eat it. He said he wasn’t hungry.  I told him he could go to the pound if he didn’t eat but he still refused.  Pocket and I then had to do the Mom feeding dog a pill move with Pocket holding open Arnie’s mouth and me stuffing money down it.   Then Pocket gave me the second item I requested.  A box of ex-lax.  We didn’t have time for Arnie to digest the food naturally.  He needed a little help.

Arnie snorted and spit then recovered.  He was very angry with me.  I told him it was for the best.  I then sent Pocket back home and made Arnie promise that, even though he had a swear on the Barkble, he would not say that we had fed him money and ex-lax.  Knowing it was the only way he could stay out of the pound he agreed.

When we went back to court it was Arnie’s time to testify.  He swore on the Barkble but he crossed his paws behind him.  I assured him that this would cover him when he met his creator at the Bridge.  I began to slowly ask him questions as I waited for nature to take it’s course.  

First there was the gas passing which made the court go quiet except for the gagging.  Then the first ffffuuuuuufffuuuuuttt sound, followed by bills spraying out of Arnie’s butt.  A few seconds later more bills came out, then more bills.  The smell was horrendous but the humans in the room flocked to the money.  Humans and money are worse than dogs and balls, they chase it beyond the point of exhaustion and don’t care what it is covered with.

During the commotion I turned to my witness.  “Arnie!,” I asked.  “Have you eaten any money in the last day?”

“No,” Arnie said blushing as much as a beagle can blush.  It was clear he was lying but the humans were concentrating on the money.  “Your honor!” I shouted, “it is clear that what we have here is Florida’s first spontaneously cash pooping beagle.  I move that all charges be waived.”

The judge, climbing back to the bench, banged his gavel and announced all charges against Arnie were dismissed.  When I got Arnie out of the courtroom I assured him that he would be forgiven by the Bridge Angels for his little white lie.  I then contacted my Florida friend Hobo on my I-Phone and, knowing he knows a good business opportunity when he sees one, told him what happened.

Now you can see Arnie, the incredible money pooping dog, at county fairs across the southeast.  Hobo’s plan is brilliant in it’s simplicity.  He charges the human rubes $10.00, feeds the Ex-Lax and half the money to Arnie.  The money comes flying out, and the rubes collect it, even if it is half the amount they paid to get in.  Then Hobo, the brilliant businessman, uses the Hobo Hudson money laundering firm, to give them clean money, taking another ten percent, 25% of which he gives to Arnie.  Hobo is looking to expand the operation so if any of you would like to be a spontaneously pooping dog contact me and we will put your on tour.

As for me I returned home for lap time and garden supervision.  A Yorkie lawyer triumphant.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Mrs Sophie Bub, Koda, Wills and Josie are our September 16, 2012 Pups of the Week

One of our packs’ Moms did the most wonderful thing this week to help one of our fellow dogs.  She posted two blogs about it and when I read them I said to myself “Foley,” because I have always called me Foley, “these are the dogs who we are going to recognize this week because their Mom is so wonderful.”

    Now I don’t like to talk about being a Senior dog and having Senior moments but they do occur.  But to be truthful I don’t remember blogs too well.  So, when it comes time to do this weekly blog, I go back to the blog posted by the pup I want to honor, read it again, get all my facts right, and sometimes, like last week, just copy and past part of the blog.  Saves me lots of time and brain power.
But this week what this Mom tried to do to save this pup did not work out and she was very hurt by it.  She felt such pain she could not read about it anymore, and took the blog down, which, since I believe everything is all all about me, turned out to be a terrible thing to do because now I have to remember what was said

I am discussing Koda's, Josie's, Wills' and Mrs. Sophie Bub’s Mom who is one of the sweetest woman I know.  Early last week she either found, or was told about, sorry, Senior moment, a dog that was found abandoned with a broken leg walking down the road.

Sophie’s Mom picked up the poor dog.  It was emaciated, it’s hair matted, limping, and shaking.  She took the dog to her vet and told the vet to fix the pup no matter what the cost.  The vet, as they are to do, checked and found that there was a chip in the dog and traced it back to it’s owner.

The vet then told Sophie’s Mom that he was going to call the owners to tell them that the dog was found.  Sophie’s Mom argued mightily that the dog had been abused, had broken limbs, was abandoned and he could not return the dog to the owners.  But the vet said he had to follow the rules and called the poor pup’s owners.

The parents said that they were concerned about the dog who they somehow lost, and who somehow had a broken leg, and had somehow gone days without eating, and they would be there to pick up the dog soon.  The vet did a temporary fix for the leg trusting the family to take care of the rest.

When Sophie’s Mom  found out about this she fired the vet, who had treated her pack, immediately.  She had gone out to save the pup, brought it to the vet, and offered to pay for it’s recovery.  She did more for the pup than it’s parents did.  All she asked were that the abusers not be given the dog back.  And that’s what the vet did.

If this had been a child left alone, emaciated, with a broken limb on the side of the road, the doctor would not have handed the child back to the parents no questions asked.  Shouldn’t a vet have the same right to keep a dog if they believe the dog has been abused.  Shouldn’t they hold the dog and let the ASPCA to investigate what happened to the dog?

So what can we do to honor what Sophie’s Mom did, to rescue the dog, to offer to pay for it, and to fight for him.   Normally I am against man’s government sticking their slopped noses in the dogs' business s but I think us pups and Sophie’s Mom  might need your help.  Is it possible for our Moms and Dads to get their legislatures to pass a law giving vets the right to hold dogs if they believe they have been abused?

In my 12 years I have seen simple Moms and Dads help shut down puppy mills, stop stores that sell dogs from puppy mills, get bad food pulled off shelves, stop unnecessary vaccinations, and many other ways they have improved the lives of us, their little angels on Earth?

Can you help make a difference?

I know Sophie’s Mom  can.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

The Battle of Beaver Falls

Until this week this is what I knew about Beaver Falls Pennsylvania.  It is where Joe Namath came from.  He was a hottie, then he became a drunkie, and now he is an oldie, but humans worshiped him for a time, so he’s OK with me.  And it was the place that I mistakenly believed our ovaries went when they were removed.

But all of that can be forgotten because Beaver Falls is the city where the governors are thinking about banning dogs from a stretch of downtown to make it  more appealing for the human shopper.    The stretch of road is called Seventh Avenue where officials are trying to create a Seventh Avenue Pup Out.

The human behind this dog ban is City Manager Steve Johnson.  According to the least qualified manager west of Bobby Valentine dogs “as big a ponies” are leashed to parking meters creating a nuisance and startling the elderly.  Now maybe he is right.  Maybe there is something in the water in Beaver Falls that creates huge dogs.   The water certainly didn’t do anything for the Fallen Beavers.  Maybe they have a 300 pound Yorkie tied up outside a 7-11 whose fierce barking is scaring old folks but I think we would have heard about that by now.  When we walk around our neighborhood the elderly love to see us, and, when big dogs walk around, I see our neighbors greet them with big smiles too.  Maybe the problem isn’t the dogs tied to the parking meters.  Maybe it’s the fact that there are parking meters.  These pony sized dogs are only trying to help.  They are leashing themselves to parking meters trying ot pull them out of the cement.  Free parking goes a long way to attracting customers.

One city councilman blamed humans that don’t clean up after their dogs as the reason for the ban.  I agree.  Humans who don’t clean up after their dogs are a pet peeve of mine and I should know because I am a pet.  It is disgusting, unless the dog is well fed, then it is a tempting treat.  But I still have issue with the statement because it was made by John “Chuckie” Kirkland and any grown man named Chuckie who is not a rapper or a third base coach should not be listened to.

Dog lovers and Beaver lovers in the town have stood up against the the oppressive regime.  They say what is keeping shoppers out of the Seventh Avenue shopping district are drug dealers and prostitutes.  Like gambling in Casablanca prostitutes in Beaver Falls is shocking!  Shocking!

Those wonderful people who are fighting the rodent city fathers to allow us pups to shop have reminded the ruling elite that places like Fifth Avenue in New York allow dogs.  But that doesn’t mean anything to Manager Johnson and Councilman Chuckie.  So you won’t be seeing this on Seventh Avenue in Beaver Falls.

You will be seeing this instead.
The good news is, if you step in vick on Fifth Avenue in Beaver Falls you will know it's human.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Top Ten Things We Have Learned After 500 Blogs

We recently wrote our 500th blog.  It was an Ask Aunt Foley blog and that seemed fitting.  We have learned lots of things while writing our blogs but we have whittled them down to a top ten.  So now we present the top ten things we have learned while writing our blogs.

10.  If you are going to use the words Mommy, big, and ass in the same blog make sure they are several paragraphs apart.  

9.  The chance of someone stumbling upon your blog on Stumbleupon is the same as you stumbling on the kitty who took the golden vick.

8.  While social networks that are based on dogs have the best people, not all the people are the best.  Hitler loved his dogs.  If he was alive today he might be blogging about his dogs.  Rule number one of dog social networking:  Do not befriend Hitler.  You will know it is him because his blog is named Mein Comef.

7.  We post on dog sites and on our blog page and we average around 150 hits from all these posts combined.  But when we wrote a blog about why dogs should have a beach of their own, featuring pictures of fat people in bathing suits we got more than 2,000 hits above our average, so, no matter what you are blogging about, include a picture of a fat guy at the beach.

6.  There are a number of great sites in the dog social network web that produce incredible treats and sometimes Kol’s Notes if you mention how great their treats are Kerri’s Kookies they will send you some treats Iluvyourpet.  The key is that you don’t want to just do a blog about how Ralph’s Bakery these treats are.  You have to be subtle.  You can’t Kerri’s Kookies look like you’re begging.  So just Iluvyourpet drop their names in your blogs and they will know you are sincere and keep Ralph’s Bakery your tummy full.  P.S. Kol’s Notes.

5.  If you happen to come up with a clever term for dogs like Lollipops or for our bodily function you need to copyright that.  While it is very good for our little egos ao see the words catch on and other people use them it doesn’t put any more kibbles in our bowl.

4.  Leave them laughing or leave them crying but if you leave them angry then your in box is going to be filled with hate for a lot of weeks.

3.  ABMF and NFLF.  The first is Always Be Making Friends.  The second is Never Forget Lost Friends.  You always want to be making friends because, since I began writing this blog 500 postings ago I have lost dozens of friends.  So each day I try to make at least one friend because you can never have too many.  And new friends can help you get past the pain of losing old ones.  And never forget a lost friend because if you never forget them, and write about them, and post pictures about them, then they will live in, in our hearts, minds, and on the Internet, forever.

2.   There is no such thing as a bad dog, only bad dog owners.  And there is no such thing as an ugly dog, but I’ve seen pictures of some of dog owners....and geesh.

1.  We dogs are the master race.  Our humans feed us, pick up our vick, take care of our medical needs, buy us toys, and provide for our every need.  Obviously, if one species does that for another, they have them enslaved.  But we are generous of spirit and heart.  While we can’t pay our humans, or provide for them, we can be their angels, make them smile, give them unconditional love, make them feel like they are the most special people in the entire world, because they are.  So, from the day you walk into your forever home, to the day you go to the Bridge, never stop loving your parents and let them know they are loved.  Because that’s why we’re here.  To be their angels on Earth, because they are ours. 

The Ruby Rose Report: The Gift

  I had finished my walk with my Dad, having inspected the homes and gardens en route, and barked instructions on how to bring them up to...