Hobo Hudson is our January 16, 2011 pup of the week

Some of us pups have very important events occur in our lives:  illness, parent's illness, natural disasters, near unnatural disaster, some do remarkable feats with their parents to help other pups or humans; some show great compassion; and some leave us for the bridge.

But then there are the dogs who are consistent.  No highs.  No lows.  They stay on an even keel.  Every day they are consistent in one thing:  They are there with a helpful paw, through thick and thin, illness and health.  They are like every paws older sibling, in this case, older brother.

That is why we gather here today to recognize the big brother to us all, Hobo Hudson.

Hobo is an American success story.  Born to a family of uncaring humans he was left tied to a tree for the early part of his life.  Each day he was passed by a gentleman.  Hobo gave his best poor, poor, pitiful me look until the man brought him into their home and they became best friends.  And his Mom, who is a real writer, because she gets paid for what she writes (every time you click on her column she is delivered a brand new shiny penny by the monkeys who work for her editor) has, with Hobo's help. written hundreds of helpful pup columns.

Hobo has also shown us that we can do more than just lay around the house.  Hobo is a puppy entrepreneur.  He always has a scheme to make millions of dollars:  the selling of excess bell peppers; a brilliant trading of peas for ham plan, and cucumbers for meatballs; a worm farm; an ill conceived but none the less brilliant idea for a steak tree; a scheme to win the lottery; a squirrel cafeteria; making a handsome profit in kibbles from selling his businesses; teaching us all the recipe for deep fried bugs; bravely discovering the wherebouts of the old DS castle; and publishing the history of the first Doggyspace vs Tanner Brigade war.

Then there is Hobo the devoted friend.  He was the lead pup in convincing the wonderful Hattie Mae clan to join us at the Brigade, when Ladybug first became ill he was there to fill us in when her Mom couldn't, right up to the time she went to the bridge; his pleas to help a poor dog names Soco who he had never even met; asking us to watch over Ladybug's Mom when she passed, offering to help with any pups looking to confuse their secret bub by having you send him the gifts and he will mail them with his postmark; and keeping us aware of the need to vote for Erin and me in the top 100 dog blog contest.,

Plus the countless wonderful articles he had inspired his Mom to do including the story of Freddy Girl and Sota  and her latest on how our parents should make sure that we are provided for in their wills so we don't become part of the "system."

Then there are the wonderful things he inspires his parents to do that you might not hear about.  He helped his parents send a beautiful bouquet of flowers to my Nana's funeral which meant so much to everyone in the Monster family,

He also started one of our most popular forum features "What's Your Town Like?" that drew 105 responses. If you haven't responded yet, you should.  You can also send him clues about your home town, he will post them, and we will try to guess which town it is.  If this was the Suite Life of Foley and Pocket on Deck then Hobo would be the cruise director.

While he goes to Doggy Camp he sends his parents out visit his Tanner Brigade friends.  They went and met Hattie Mae and came back home with Hattie Mae's scent all over them.  And Hobo got to smell it.  Imagine having parents kind enough to travel 1,000 miles just so we'd know what our friends smell like.  Why they are the ambassadors of scent.

Hobo was an important part of our lives when we were in The Castle.  He left shortly after Tanner and I did and was one of the founding fathers of the Brigade.  Pus he must have some bloodhound in him because there was no better dog at sneaking across enemy lines and bringing back their secrets so we could use them against our enemy.  A more brave and loyal dog you will never meet.  Plus, having Hobo exclusively on TB brought us more members.  Everyone loved Hobo at the castle, he was one of our first friends, and when he left they were more than happy to join this small new group knowing it must be the real deal if Hobo was here.

Whenever a new pup joins the Brigade, no matter how quickly I try to get there, when I arrive, there are Hobo's paw print, having already arrived and given our newest arrival a tour of our playground.

While Hobo has had many businesses, employing cats and squirrels (and having to put up with, literally, wild cat strikes when I wrote something that made the kitties picket), the true business that Hobo trades in is smiles.  There are seldom blogs or comments from him that do not bring a smile to all pups faces.

Now Hobo is not a fashion plate like Hattie Mae or Tabaatha, he does not advise us on our future like Shiloh, or travel the Northwest like Northwest Shiloh, he doesn't raid puppy mills like Puppy, he doesn't write about wild, semi-erotic adventures like me and Pocket, but he is the support that makes all that possible.  He is Sam in Lord of the Rings, the best friend who keeps pushing Frodo forward.  He is Louie to Rick in Casablanca, Trapper John to Hawkeye in M*A*S*H, Clyde Tolson to J. Edgar Hoover (hmmm....not sure of that one, Pocket is my chief researcher. 

I think every member of the Brigade counts Hobo as one of their closest friends.  We don't think we would have even attempted setting up a site like this without knooing we would have Hobo's wise council to count on.  He is our Tom Hayden, our Benjamin Franklin, our wise council.

So, while Hobo never seeks the spotlight, for today, and this week, no matter how much he shies from it, it is on him because Hobo Hudson is our much deserved pup of the week.

Pocket and the Buzzard

From the desk of Pocket Dog

We got visited by another buzzard again Wednesday  Why do these buzzards keep coming to our neighborhood?

I don't know much about these birds.  They just keep circling over our head, and dumping this white, wet, cold stuff on our grass and our walkways.  Tthe snow was very hard to move, wet and heavy.  It was very difficult laying under the covers in our warm bed with Mommy while Daddy dug out the cars and large spaces for little dogs to pee.  That laying all snuggled up was very difficult.  The scraping noises from Daddy's shovel, the sound of his head boinking off the walkway when he slips, his loud gasping for breath as he leans against the car trying to determine if he is having a heart attack, the whack of his shin on the car as he slips under it, all very distracting when you're trying to snuggle.

Then I hear the door open, and the phone rings.  The phone is on Daddy's side of the bed which means Mommy has to go to the other side of the bed to answer it, which disturbs Foley and me.  And it's Daddy calling from his cell phone.  How rude!  He asked for us to be brought down stairs so we could pee.  I don't know why he couldn't have just taken off his coat, his gloves, his boots, his hat, his wet pants (Mommy doesn't like the dripping on the floor), come upstairs and get us, then take us downstairs, and while holding me so my small bladder does not squirt all over the floor, put on his wet pants, his hat, his boots, his glove, his coat, then take us out to pee.  How selfish.

Now we had to get out of bed, and Mommy had to bring us upstairs so Mr. Paleface because his heart was not pumping enough to his major organs.  He took us outside.  I don't like to complain.  But I was not happy with is shoveling job.  I prefer there to be no snow.  If I get just a bit of snow in my paw I become as immobile as Stephan Hawkings at a triathlon.

We both peed, and then I took a Vick outside, not because I'm a good dog, but it was a comment on his shoveling ability and got brought back inside.  We got a treat, and Foley and I climbed up on the couch to watch Daddy shovel.  We began to make bets on when Daddy would collapse.  I said when he tried to clean up the snow between his car and the curbing he was parked next to.  Foley said it would be when he tried to remove all the wet heavy snow from in front of his car.  But he didn't collapse. So it was a push.  We'll continue the bet at the next Buzzard.

This big white vicking bird came at a really bad time for me.  Monday I made it through the day without peeing inside.  But when you have to pee 16 times a day a Buzzard is your enemy.  It's not just the crippling snow in your pads, or the fact that Daddy gets lazy about putting on his coat and boots 16 times a day to take me outside, but that the workers where we live came by  a while ago throwing about 100 pounds of this salt on our walkway and steps and Mommy doesn't like us near this stuff, afraid we'll eat it or it will get stuck in our paws, so we have to wait for Daddy to sweep it up, and as we mentioned, lazy.

When Mommy was showering I climbed up on the recliner with Daddy and noticed that he wasn't breathing, so I stood on his chest, with my back legs over his heart, and began licking him performing CPR:  Cardiac Pulimnary Pupificaton.  It wasn't working.  Daddy had the computer on his lap.  Foley removed plug from the computer yelled "clear" then zapped him in the heart.  Daddy came around which we were very happy about because Mommy would have been so mad if we had just let him expire on our watch.  (Plus I owed him.  When he was in the shower I waited outside the bathroom door.  I decided to check out the useless room across from the bathroom.  I forgot that the door always closes behind me.  So I got trapped.  When I get trapped I do the sensible thing.  I just sit there and wait for someone to find me.  Daddy came back upstairs.  he knocked at the door.  I scratched at the door.  He freed me.

I hope the buzzard doesn't come back to visit us this year.  I just don't understand what is up with the big bird.  They always seem so nice on Sesame Street.


Hoping this buzzard doesn't come visit you this year.  Let is stay up in the North Pole with Santa where he belongs.

Pocket Change(s)

It has been a busy time here in Monster Town.

It has been almost three weeks that I have been crated for five hours or more because Mommy and Daddy were working. Since December 23 one of our parents has been home with us except for three or four hours at the longest.  This has been a big boon to small businesses in the house, like ball chasing, squirrel harassing, and barking at passing cars out the window.

(An interlude, from Daddy's first dog Barney from the Bridge:  "Why, when I was a pup we didn't sit in the house and watch cars go by, we chased them.  We ran right next to them, smelling the rubber hitting the road, nipping at their bumpers with our teeth.  Sure, we often got swerved into, knocked over, or killed, but we were glad, glad to be killed, because that's the way it was back then.  You young pups and your barking at cars from the window, you're just a bunch of wussy lap dogs that's all".)

You may remember that Mommy got sick earlier this month.  If not I can replay the video.  What?  No?  OK.  Well she's back at work but Daddy is home with us.  Daddy has worked a very long time in a very bad place and it has had some effects on his health and he at least needs a break, or possibly a new job.  But Daddy is going to be out of work until at least March and Mommy may be retiring as early as April so there's a possibility that our days of being abandoned while both our parents are out earning the kibble are over (as long as it doesn't effect the kind of kibble we get.)

That of course means more time roaming where ever we want in the house and not being confined.  I am working very hard on getting Daddy on a schedule while Mommy is out.  He is working very hard on finally potty training me.  I believe I am doing an excellent job in training him.  As for his training me, well he still needs to work on some things.

Our early mornings are the same.  But Daddy doesn't wear the shirt with the buttons and the ribbon around his neck.  When Mommy goes to work Daddy goes for a walk at the loony bin.  We are all worried when he leaves because Daddy is a loon and if they catch him in their big net they won't let him come back.  He walks all over that place, in the woods where they bury they experimental babies and everything.

He gets home after an hour and I bark to him to let me out.   This part of my training is failing.  He doesn't come upstairs to get me right away.  He does the laundry, and shampoos the floor, sometimes he put away groceries, this morning he straightened up the house and emptied the dish washer.  I don't know why he can't do this while we're downstairs.  There are still some kinks in the system.

He finally takes us, after waiting forever, out of our crate and outside for my third pee of the day.  He then sets the alarm on his phone for 15 minutes and sets up the computer on the couch, sits on the floor, and throws the ball for me, until the alarm goes off, then he takes me out for pee number four.  Fifteen more minutes and pee number five, and sometimes, if I have it in me, 15 more minutes then pee number six.

Then Daddy sits down after 45 minutes of ball throwing for some work on the computer and to wait for Mommy to come home. There is usually one more pee in there to make seven.  When Mommy comes home I get taken out for pee number eight.  Then three more fifteen minutes sessions of ball with pee break numbers nine, ten, and 11.

We snuggle down with Mommy before supper, maybe play a little more ball, have a couple of more pees, then  three more after supper to bring my pee number up to 16 a day.  So, I am doing a very good job of teaching Daddy to take me out to pee 16 hours a day.
 
On Friday we went to the vets where we were prodded, poked, and completely humiliated.  May I ask you who squeezes your anal glands and then decides to check on your teeth.  I mean I know I eat poo but I want to be the one who makes that decision.  I shall not have poo thrust upon me. 

They found the usual tarter on Foley's teeth and made an appointment for her to get her teeth clean.  Then they said there was some tarter on my teeth.  What?  I'm perfect.  Then he pointed to some discharge around my eyes that needed to be cleaned daily.   How rude?  So now I get my teeth brush and my eyes cleaned.  Everyone said what a good pup I was taking my shots but truthfully I was just in shock from the eye and teeth news.

So now I get brushed, and I get the fur around my eyes combed and it pulls and it hurts.  Mommy says the important thing is that we are healthy.  Then again no one is brushing the hair under her eyes.

Starting today my parents are going to keep track of how many days I can go without an accident in the house and if I do go the circumstances.  I think that this will become a very popular game on the Tanner Brigade with lots of kibble going back and forth.  Wish me luck.  I'm so happy I am doing the happy dance.  Oops.  OK, we'll start tomorrow.

Baron (Bear) and Freddy are our January 9, 2011

Two of our dogs went to their forever homes this week.  After a long journey Freddy finally made it to Steve and Tommy's house, and our sweet friend Baron the Bear (the dog so nice they had to name him twice) went to his forever home at Rainbow Bridge to join his friends and wait for the rest of us and his beloved Mom.

Both trips required flying.  Freddy flew on pet airlines.  Bear grew wings and flew to the path that led to Rainbow Bridge.  Freddy flew in a crate, looking down at the friends he flew over, giving out a "HAROOO I am going home" bark that could barely be heard over the plane's engines.  Bear used his wings to fly, stopping by to softly lick the tears from his Mom's face, something she barely felt, before flying off to the Bridge.

It took a tremendous amount of hard work and cooperation between a great group of TB and DS Moms and Dads to get Freddy to her home.  It took the incredible will of Bear's loving Mom Monica to delay his flight to the Bridge for as long as possible.  Bear's body had given out a year ago,  but his heart, that strong heart of his, would not quit.  It was super powered because like all soul mates, his heart, and his Mom's heart beat as one.

There were many obstacles to get Freddy to her home.  There were people to be lined up to foster her, to drive her from home to home.  The forces of nature even tried to interfere with her trip by throwing a blizzard in her way but that could not deter the people determined to get her home.  It took his Mom, doctors, and all sorts of pills to keep Bear with us.  He even got wheels to help him move around.  There wasn't a single obstacle too great to keep Freddy from reaching her forever home and help Bear postponing his trip away from his Mom.

This week Bear's trip home to the bridge and Freddy's trip to her home with Tommy Tunes had began to unfold on parallel lines.   On Wednesday both Freddy and Bear began to make arrangement for their long, final trips.  Freddy got on her plane and went on her chartered flight home.  As the DS sand Tanner Brigade communities began to celebrate sad news began to arise from the North.

Our good friend Bear, who had been sick so many times before, had a good night that Wednesday, but while Steve and Tommy were picking up Freddy at the airport, Bear began to have labored breathing, and needed a vet visit.

As Freddy was walking into her new, loving home, Bear was  having labored breathing and a temperature of 104.

On Friday as Freddy was moving all her personal effects into her new home, arranging her room, and hanging her picture of her Mom Gina, Bear was at the vets, where they found that he had pneumonia, a serious diagnosis for older dogs.

Maybe, just maybe, Bear stayed to make sure Freddy got to her new home before he decided to grow wings.  If no one else could find a set of wheels to get Freddy there Bear's back leg wheels would do the trick.  When he was sure they weren't needed he decided it was time.

And I do believe Bear knew it was time.  His Mom took him to the vet.  He got some antibiotics and his fever broke but he didn't respond well.  His breathing was still labored.  His mind drifted down to Florida where Freddy was running freely and he remembered the days when he could do that.  Freddy was safe, and his Mom was now there.  He looked up in her eyes and she knew it was time to let him go.

Now understand Bear was no ordinary dog.  Loyal, strong, loving, friendly, compassionate, admired by all who saw him or read about him.  His passing to the bridge left a huge whole in the dog world.   There is no replacing Baron Bear.

Before going to the bridge he stopped by Florida, ran up behind Freddy and gave her a friendly pull on the ear.  Then Bear soared to the Bridge, and rumor is, for the first day, all he did is run, run like he was a pup.

Two dogs, one with a story that fills our hearts with joy, the other with sorrow.  One entering his forever home on Earth, one leaving his Earthly home for his forever life in the next life.  One parent laughing at the joy a new dog brings, another heartbroken at the pain an old dog passing leaves.

It is a short history of humans lives with dogs.  The excitement of a new pup, the compassion and love they inspire during their lives, and the heartache when they go.

So here is to our Pups of the Week Baron Bear and Freddy.  Long may they both run.

And Down goes Mommy

Oh my gosh, Sunday night, what an awful night.

Saturday night Mommy went out to eat with her children, grandchildren, and the ones who put the thingee in the bujeengee that makes babies.  She had gone on Thursday for a birthday dinner with Daddy and her brother and sister-in-law and on Friday for a birthday lunch with Daddy and her son.  I can't say for sure if what happened on Sunday was because the birthday angels were punishing her for over indulging in her birthday, or if the dog angels were punishing her for leaving us for a few hours over three days, like the talent angels have punished Lindsay Lohan after her totally awesome performance in Herbie Fully Loaded by making her sick, but whatever it was it wasn't good.

Early Sunday morning Mommy got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom.  Now, if you know my Mommy and her bad artificial knees you know she hurries like a penguin being chased across the ice by a polar bear.  She made it to the bathroom and womited,  She crawled back into bed, then, a short while later, gave an encore performance. then kept on going all morning until I woke up Daddy, nudging him, and saying "dude your wife has been puking all morning, you might want to check it out."

Daddy got up and Mommy said she did not feel good at all.  Daddy went out and got her some Ginger Ale and Saltines and some Charlemagne tea.  I don't know why.  We still have chicken and rice from the last time I got sick.  I told Mommy I could make her some but she said she didn't want it.  Well guess what?  Neither do I.  But when I'm sick it's all "it doesn't matter if you want to eat it it's good for you."  Geesh.

Daddy gave her some Ginger Ale and she sipped it.  I sat in the chair watching her because that's what Mommy does when I'm sick.  She sits there.  And looks at me.  Waiting for me to finish what I'm eating.  The difference?  I can't pick Mommy up, spin her butt around, make her face the other way, and tell her to stay.

Both Pocket and I could tell Mommy wasn't feeling well so we stayed close to her all day.  She kept womiting and continued to slowly rush to the bathroom.  She also had terrible back pain.  Daddy tried to put heat on it  but nothing worked.  I Googled back pain and vomiting.  I found a site that stated to relax, it would give me a reasonable answer to her health problems.  Then it told me Mommy was going to die.  I was quite frightened but Pocket typed in swollen toe and eye lash shedding and got the same answer.

Mommy, despite her illness, continued her Tanner duties.  Luckily she had Pup of the Week almost done Saturday.  But there are some subtle clues to her illness.  The beat this caption contest for this week is titled beat this question.  The question of the week is dated for January 2, 2012,  She made a comment on Hattie's page that was "Baaaaruuuuuggggggghhhhh!"

By night time it seemed like Mommy's tummy had settled down so we went to bed.  Mommy fell asleep, Daddy stayed up reading, I stayed on top of the covers.  My sensitive ears could hear the rumbling in Mommy's tummy and knew something bad was coming.  At 12:30 she awoke, looked at Daddy, said "I have to go mumble sideways in the underhill," stood, and moved quickly, walking into the TV, then on to the dresser, clearing the pictures from the shelf as she tumbled forwards, landing on my blanket.

Which she womited on while she lay on the floor.  My blanket!  Where I sleep!  Where my Pocket comes and plays with her toys!  Daddy stood up and ran to her.  I jumped off the bed and jointed him.  Pocket stood on the bed and went "HARRRRUUFFFF!  I am alone on the bed, I am the bed queen!"

Daddy used his tiny, emaciated man like strength to sit Mommy up with her back to the bed.  He asked her if she was all right.  She slumped down and womited some more.  Daddy said he was going to call 911.  I was against it.  If calling 911 couldn't get Guiliani elected President how could it help Mommy?  Mommy said no.  She actually said "No, horsie, sit, fog cue.,"  Daddy lifted her up and put her on the bed.  She slid off like a fish on a see saw.

Daddy caught Mommy and told her if she couldn't stand up right now he was calling 911.  He then grabbed her and yanked her up.  He put his feet under her feet, and pushed her forward slowly, like Tessio dancing with the little girl at the wedding (Two Godfather references in one blog, Zoe Boe:  Bazinga!)

He got her into the bathroom.  He eased her down to the floor next to the toilet with her back against the tub.  He then leaned her forward like priming a pump and then wham came the womit.

Daddy held her, and when she was done he asked her how many fingers he was and she correctly guessed three.  He then asked her if she knew what day it was and she said to calm down and get his s**t together.  Daddy knew she would be all right.

He grabbed my blanket, and the comforter, and put them in the washing machine.  I stayed with Mommy.  Daddy got the steam cleaner and went to work on the rugs.  He then went back to Mommy.  He helped her up and walked her back to the bed.  He put her in bed and tucked her in, he put me next to her to watch over her, then looked around.  No Pocket.  He went downstairs where Pocket had peed on the rug.  "Hey, I figured while you have the vacuum out....."  Daddy scooped her up, put her in bed, brought the vacuum downstairs and cleaned up her mess too.

Mommy was fast asleep when he got back upstairs.  Daddy didn't want her waking up so he tried to stay up, with his IPod cranked on loud, a book to read, and a Smart Phone to keep track of the world's activities.  He even had the gall to respond to something Otis had written as me!  Mommy womiting on my blanket!  Daddy posing as me on Tanner Brigade?  The entire system was breaking down.

I have vowed to keep an eye on him while he's on the computer for now on.

By morning Mommy was weak, and mortified, but not womiting.  She had some more Saltines.  On Tuesday Mommy went to the doctor.  She said she thought Mommy had either got a bug or eaten something that disagreed with her.  I don't know why she ordered bug in an Italian restaurant.

On Wednesday she went back to work.  Daddy drove her and we got to go with him when he picked her up.

We hope things are getting back to normal.  But let me tell you that was one scary night.

We don't have any video of the incident.  This is the closest we could find. Just say a prayer for Mom and for us that this doesn't happen again.

Shakira and Napa are our January 2, 2011 pups of the week

Bullies!

They are everywhere.  If you surf the Internet like I do you will read how concerned adults are about little humans being bullied by mean kids.  But when are humans going to start getting concerned about us, their best and most loyal friends getting bullied?

For example there are the first two doggies recognized as pups of the week in 2011, Napa and Shakira.  They suffered the worst type of dog park bullying.

Their Mom took them to the dog park a few weeks ago on a perfectly sunny day.   There were two Great Danes roaming uncontrollably.  I have met plenty of this breed and, while even if their heads are larger then my entire body, they seemed perfectly nice.  But these weren't Great Danes, these were Zombie Danes.

And they weren't just bullies.  They were humping bullies, which are the worse kind.  One Humping Zombie Dane mounted Napa.  Our sweet friend was not in the mood to be sexually assaulted in a dog park and growled at the creepy Hamlet to back off.  Well, this Zombie Dane, instead of putting it's perverted head down in shame, attacked Napa.  A long time member of the Brigade, Napa can more than defend herself, but this was a big Dane and our brave little friend was knocked to the ground.  Her fearless Mom ran  towards her to protect Napa as the Dane went Zombie on her trying to bite into her neck.  Then another Zombie Dane joined in.

Shakira was on the other side of the park hanging when her friends when she heard Napa cry out as a Zombie Dane bit into her leg.  Shakira opened a can of whoop ass and began darting back and forth biting the Zombies trying to get them off her sister.  But the only way to stop a Zombie Dane is by cutting their heads off and their Mommy did not let either Shakira and Napa pack heat at the dog park, so, despite brave Shakira's best efforts she too was taken down.

Finally the Zombie Danes Zombie Dad decided letting his dogs commit pupacide would be a bad thing.  He began to pull the Zombie dogs off our friends, as did other concerned dog parents.  Now we are all very fortunate that Shakira's and Napa's Mom knows when to keep it together and when it's time to let it go.  She picked up her wounded warriors and got them to the dogtors immediately.  Thank dog got quick thinking Mom.

Thanks to Angel Apollo who looked over his sisters they both were able to recover from their wounds, although it's unclear if Napa will ever get full use of the leg the Zombie Dane chomped into.  But I am betting she will.  Because she has her Mom on her side:  Her Mom who threw herself into a four dog fight to save the pups she loved; her Mom who got them to the vets before she collapsed in tears; her Mom who tracked down the Moronic owner of the Zombie Danes and made sure they paid for the medical bills of her pups.  Her Mom is like an Oklahoma sand storm, a force of nature, and you do not want to get in her way.

Congrats to Shakira and Napa, our pups of the week, of to their Mom.  A wonderful story of love of humans and pups, of their bravery, of their loyalty, of their unwillingness to ever give up on one another, to start off 2011.

2010; A Doggyspace Christmas Carol

It was a bitterly cold Christmas Eve in Northern Virginia as we peer down on a young man hurrying through the festive crowd, who are wishing each other the best of the holidays.  The young man ignored them all, staring down at his blackberry.  He was stopped by an elderly man who asked him if he could donate money to poor children on Christmas.  The young man scribbled the http address of a web site and continued onward.

He came to his front door and searched for his keys.  When he found them he looked at the door and his heart skipped a beat.  His beautiful door knocker had turned into the face of a yellow lab.  "Tanner Bub?" he asked, his voice squeaking in despair.  But the knocker turned back into the @ symbol he had paid an extravagant amount on e-bay to obtain.  He shook his head and wondered if he had too much punch at the Christmas party, which was entirely possible, since he was the only person there.

He entered the house, put down his blackberry and switched to his laptop .  He checked his rating and saw his new site was ranked near the bottom for hits.  The space he created for advertisers was bare.  He went to the refrigerator to get a Corona with a slice of lemon and a Promax bar then sat back down.  His instant message icon was flashing.

He clicked it on a window opened saying he had an instant message from Tanner Bub.  He clicked ignore but the window opened anyway.  "Merry Christmas Levi, it is Tanner Bub from Rainbow Bridge."

"Humbug," Levi said and began to bang on his mouse trying to close the window.  But it would not close.  He tried rebooting his computer but it would not shut down.  His calls to his service provider were rerouted to dogs singing Jingle Bells.  It became obvious to Levi the only way to clear the message from the screen was to answer it.

"Why are you cuntackting me Tanner?" he typed in his unique verbiage.

"One day at Christmas all us pups were gathered under one roof, a roof called Doggyspace.  We were, peaceful, happy and content.  But then your greed took over Levi.  Your need to control all around you.  Happy pups were either driven off or packed up and left on their own.  Soon you packed up and left too leaving those behind at the mercy of the mean and evil profiles who moved in."

"That's caled capittooisim Tanner," Levi typed. "Buy low, sell high, and move on."

"There is more to life then that Levi," Tanner typed.  "Tonight you will be visited by three ghosts showing you Doggyspace past, present, and future.  They will show you the error of your ways."

"Can't do it dude," Levi typed.  "I got a partee tonite at Flashdansers.  Strippin' elfs dude, you should czech it out."

"I'm afraid not," Tanner answered.  "Soon you will be fast asleep and then the ghosts will visit you."

Levi scoffed at the idea as Tanner's IM disappeared to be replaced by Levi's Linkden profile. "Oh this should be interesting," he said.  He was asleep within seconds.

He awoke to the feeling of his pants leg being pulled.  He looked down to see a familiar beagle.  "Do I know you?" he asked.

"It's Pepsi, bitch," the dog said.  "And I'm back."

"Pepsi, what are you doing in my apartment?" he asked.

"I'm the ghost of Doggyspace past, I'm here to bite ankles and chew  rawhide and I'm fresh out of rawhide."

Levi lifted his legs. "Are you going to take me on a tour of my past Christmases to show me the error of my ways?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm going to do," Pepsi said.  "Because you're the Grinch and I'm Max the dog, you moron.  Just look at the computer screen"

The screen went back to Doggyspace on Christmas Eve in 2008.  "Read the posts, see how everyone is wisihng each other Merry Christmas.  There is Hattie Mae's profile, and Tanner Bub's.  There is Foley and Pocket, Luca, Sam and Junior, Hobo Hudson.  Everyone is laughing and sharing stories.   Then it all changed."

"Yes, but they lacked discipline, the site needed it, you can't eat your pudding until you've finished your meat.  How can you have your pudding when you haven't finished  your meat?"

"You let the power of running the site go to your head." Pepsi said.  "You began to ban members, including the beloved Tanner Bub.  That began a decline in membership and less hits on your site.   If you had not let all the power over take you Levi, every Christmas would have been like that."

"They needed monitoring, they needed expelling Pepsi!" he said looking down.  But Pepsi was no longer there.  On the screen were some of the writings he had recently done for his new web site.  It put him to sleep instantly.

He awoke to see a dog in a dress and cap checking herself in a mirror.  "I just can't get this hat right," she said adjusting it on her head.

"Is that you Hattie Mae?" Levi asked.

She turned around.  "Well of course Levi, we haven't spoken in so long.  Oh, but tonight I am not Hattie Mae, I am the gift of Christmas Present because I'm the best Christmas present anyone could wish for."

"I thought that was Peruvian gold."

"Oh Levi, you're like an old painting you never change," she said.  "Now get ready for a thrill.  For the first time ever you are going to get to view the Tanner Brigade web site."

"Oh, oh, can Princess get a membership?" he asked.

"You have a better chance getting a membership in Mensa,  Now you read some of the posts, I know it will be like waiting for a third grader to read Moby Dick but I've got all night."

Levi read the comments of a close community of dogs wishing each other the best of the holiday season, of those reaching out to help heal both hurt and sick humans and pups, of those trying to get Miss Gina's dogs to their new home.  He got done and looked down at Hattie.  "Where are the ads?" he asked.

"The ads?" Hattie responded.

"How are you making any money from this if there are no ads? There was a woman I took for $8,000 for an ad on DS.  I spent that money on jeans."

Hattie sighed.  "Why don't you look at the comments on DS this Christmas Eve," she said.

The DS screen appeared.  He began reading, slowly.  "They seem quite similar to TB, well wishes and good cheer."

"Let me help you," Hattie said and the screen scrolled until it stopped.  "See these comments, a dog bragging about the number of guns he owns, two dogs arguing about a boy in school, young pups insulting each other, bullying other dogs about their profiles, what do you think of that?"

"I would have to see how much they paid for their membership fee before I decide," Levi said.  Hattie growled at him.

"This may take more than three ghosts," she said.

"This activity has nothing do with me," Levi said.  "I have already sold the site before it occurred."

"And let's check in on what the new owners are doing this Christmas Eve in Texas," Hattie said.

The screen showed a You Tube video of a man eating pretzels and watching TV.  "Laura," the ex-president yelled "the kid has his tongue stuck to the pole again!  That's the fourth time tonight he's done that.  How stupid can you be?"

"George, come in here for dinner right now," his wife said.  "And did you check on that all dog social network I bought you for Christmas?  You promised me if I got it for you that you would watch it.

"I don't need to check on it.  We will be treated as liberators.  What could go wrong?" he said as the You Tube clip faded from the screen.

Levi looked down but Hattie Mae was gone.  He then looked back up at his computer screen.  "Oh,. the lost Princess blogs from Doggyspace, I shall entertain myself all night by reading these."  Ten seconds later he was fast asleep again.

He woke up to a little dog tugging at his pants leg.  "Who are you little dog?' he asked.

"My name is Fuzzy Bacon," the little dog said.

"Fuzzy Bacon?  I think that was the name of one of the strippers I ordered."

The little dog sunk her teeth into Levi's leg making him yelp.  "Sorry, I'm just a puppy, I haven't learned my manners yet.  OK.  Now I have to remember what 12 taught me to say.  I am the Future of Doggyspace ghosts.  No wait, that wasn't it.  I am the Doggyspace Ghost Future. No, that's not right either.  Darn."

"Is it possible you are the ghost of Doggyspace future?" Levi asked.

"That's the ticket," Fuzzy said.  "Because I am the newest member of the Brigade I have been chose to show you the future."

"Well I have had enough of my night wasted, let me see it."

"First let me show you Doggyspace," he said.  But all that came up on the screen was a notice that the domain name was for sale.

"Well they didn't have a sound business plan," Levi said.

"And maybe you got pups to join the group under false pretenses and then abandoned them all.  I don't know, I'm a new pup, but I don't like what I'm hearing.  Now let's switch to a Facebook account."

Levi was speechless as he stared at his profile.  "Friends zero?  No friends?  What kind of idiot has no friends?" he asked trembling.

"It seems, you," Fuzzy said.

"This is terrible, how did this happen, where are all my friends?" he asked.

"There is one more video you need to see, it's from a surveillance camera across the street from a drive-thru."

Levi saw the man working in the drive-thru.  "Look at that smuck, working on Christmas Eve.  Wait a second," he peers further into the screen.  "Who is the man in that window?  Tell me spirit who is handing out that bag of fries?"  His voice grew more excited.  "Who is that putting ketchup into bags?  Who?  Who?"

Fuzzy held up her skinny paw and the camera zoomed in to see Levi bagging the fries.  "It is me?  Me?  Working in retail fast food?  No friends on Facebook?  Tell me spirit, are these thing to be, or can they be changed?"

Levi slumped down in his chair.  He fell asleep shaking in fear.  He awoke with the first morning light.  He rebooted he computer and saw that it was Christmas day.

He knew the first thing he was going to do.  He went on Pea Pod and ordered a large Christmas Goose.  He then began to hurridly run around the house making plans.  "I will buy back Doggyspace and make it a user friendly site.  I will let the dogs have the freedom to bark what they want to one another.  I won't charge for premium  memberships, in fact I won't charge at all.  I will ask for contributions.  And if I get too many I will put it back in the site.  I will take no money for myself.  Well, maybe a little, for food.  And expenses.  And a car, in fact a few premium memberships won't hurt.  Or all premium memberships, and lots of ads, and dogs who don't pay, can get out.   Yeah.  Lots of money for me.  Letting three ghosts change me.  Nah!"

In a dusty corner of the apartment a recently downloaded Foley sat with Pocket licking her paws.  "What are we going to do now Foley our plan didn't work?" Pocket asked.

"Next year get bigger dogs," she said as she hit the return button and down loaded herself back home











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