I Want Cake!

I have no patience with animals that say one thing to your snout and another behind your tail.

If you have something to say, say it.

Take for instance the animals I like to call my parents. To my face it’s all, “No Flash, your butt isn’t getting any bigger. It’s still cute as ever.”

Behind my back I hear my father tell my mother, “What a tub of goo he’s turning into.”

The reason I bring this up is because I was promised a cake for my adoption party this weekend from Tail Waggins Dog Bakery. A big, gooey cake in the shape of a bone. That was the promise.

Then last night I overheard my mom telling the Old Man that maybe there would be no cake for the guest of honor, just some dog treats. Because my mom realized she would have to actually bake the cake, and she can't bake worth kitty snickers. But, then she's all to my snout this morning, "Oh Flash, don't worry, the party will be great, start getting excited."

So, I am begging you, my loyal readers for your culinary skills so that I can have the party I deserve. I'll make it easy for you - I heart all baked goods. Overall, I’d say my favorites are peanut butter cookies, liver flavored cupcakes and bone marrow muffins. MMM, mmm, good.

**Addendum to my party invitation: guests must bring baked goods.

(Of course my culinary exploration must stop at the border of Chocolate City. Many a pup has ventured in, but not one has come out.)

Wacky Human Behavior

I don’t normally comment on the wacky behavior of humans because, well, they’re humans. I figured I’ll let that policy slide for this story since it does fall in line with one of the things I love doing most, marking my territory.

The story from the New York Post comes as no surprise to me, but apparently humans not only find it surprising, but appalling as well.

The Nolita hot spot Delicatessen has a full cocktail menu, pricey food, model patrons – and nightly golden showers, thanks to one pissed-off neighbor.

The glass-roofed lounge, which opened with red carpets and loud trance music in July, has neighbors at 265 Lafayette St. up in arms over the riotous party atmosphere.

But one unidentified building resident has taken matters into his own hands, emptying his bladder on the see-through ceiling from his apartment window above.

Of course where some see problems, others see opportunity. If it were me, I’d promote the club as the only place on earth where you get to see the world from a toilet’s eye view. Of course on Friday and Saturday nights I’d spice it up by having the ‘pee-er” add some chocolate puddin to his lemonade surprise. But that’s me, Flash T. Ruyle, marketing genius.

“We have our quiet little part of SoHo, and people want to keep it that way – but come on, that’s just gross,” [Joshua] Griffler said.

Owners Susan Leonard, Mark Amadei and Stacy Pisonne did not return calls seeking comment.

Anyone else think that Ms. Pisonne is just asking for it?

You're Invited

If you are reading this then you are either a) a friend of mine; or b) a worshiper of mine. Either way, you are cordially invited to a party for ME! One year ago on Saturday, September 5, my parents adopted me from Helping Hands Basset Rescue and their lives became instantly better. Help us celebrate my "Gotcha" Day next Saturday. Dogs, presents (especially presents) and pork ears are welcome.

When: Saturday, September 4, 2o1o
Where: Casa De Ruyle
Time: 4 pm

We'll have cake and ice cream for us pups, and for the adults too. The Old Man will probably throw some burgers on the grill. We'll have beer for the booze hounds, as well as water and soft drinks. No need to bring anything, except presents for me of course. Text me if you can make it, if not you suck.
FLASH

Theft

Some things are worth stealing, others not so much.

You have to be strategic in your pilfering. For instance, I would never expend my energy sneaking money out of my mother’s purse or the credit cards from my father’s wallet.

Instead, I’ll take stuff that gives me true enjoyment. In my youth that included teddy bears, shoes and dirty underwear. Lately, it’s taken the form of kitty snickers, the old man's hats, mom's library books (love to rip out the pages!) and anything that Lulu appears to be playing with.

Of course, not everyone is as smart as me. Take for instance a food thief at my mom's work. So far, one of her nutri-grain bars and one of her yogurts has been pilfered, as well as some bananas from down the hall. First - this must be a healthy food thief. Why you would waste your time stealing these items is beyond me. And, I can almost guarantee you there has to be better food in that office to steal. Secondly, even I know not to mess with my mother's food. Sure, I'll pilfer some food from the Old Man's plate, but I know not to bark up the wrong tree with mom's food. If you decide to take my mom's food, you will have implicitly agreed to a game of Russian Roulette...

FLASH

In the News...

There has been a lot of talk lately about the legalization of marijuana in some states. I find this very interesting.

Weed.

Some people make clothes out of it, some build a show around it, while others still use it to enhance their appetite.

Before you get the wrong impression and think, “Ahh, Flash always has the munchies. He must smoke weed!”, let me assure you, I don’t need performance enhancing drugs to increase my appetite.

I’m no Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens. No sirree, I don’t need anything to make me better. I’m a pro, and a natural one at that.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge those that do. You want to get high? Knock your socks off, just don’t forget to give me some of your Scooby Snacks.

Even though Nancy Regan always taught me to "just say no," live and let live I bark.

FLASH

Man's Best Friend

I recently read a survey that most dogs don’t like vets. I was shocked to hear those results.

I mean, what’s not to like? The camouflage? The ability to relieve themselves on a battlefield? It certainly can’t be the yummy c-rations.

Then I realized the survey was talking about veterinarians, not veterans. That made me feel better.

Well, since I’ve stumbled upon the subject, let me just send a quick thank you for all the members of the armed forces. Without their sacrifice, the freedoms we enjoy in this country would most assuredly be replaced by the chains of totalitarianism. I know that all dogs know this and are eager to provide support. Check out the study the Dept of Defense has on tap to figure out just how great of animals we are.

Can a canine companion soothe the volatile emotions of a soldier haunted by post-traumatic stress disorder?

It may sound far-fetched, but the Department of Defense wants to find out.

It is spending millions of dollars on medical research projects like this that may yield groundbreaking results but are too speculative for other government agencies to consider.

So the Defense Department is financing a $300,000 study that will pair troops returning from Iraq and Afghanistan with dogs trained to sense when their masters are about to have a panic attack and give them a calming nudge or nuzzle.

These psychiatric service dogs have been assisting people with a variety of mental illnesses since the late 1990s. About 10,000 such dogs are now in use.

“Absolutely beautiful animals. Very well behaved,” said Chris Kornkven, a Persian Gulf War veteran from Helenville, Wis., who stopped to pet the dogs.

“They seemed like they would be really helpful, particularly for individuals living alone,” said Kornkven, who has PTSD. “I think (a service dog) would give them some independence.”

The dogs can serve their owners in several ways. For example, they can sense when someone with bipolar disorder is becoming manic and give an alert by barking or nuzzling. The dogs also can provide a reality check to people experiencing hallucinations; if the dog does not react to voices, it is assurance that no one else is in the room.

I know I’ve helped my old man through his hallucinations. He still thinks that my mom's writing this blog. Sorry pal, these words were formed in the mind of man’s best friend, and delivered through his paws.

Humans, they’re so self-absorbed.

Monday Blues

Why the "Debbie Downer" faces you ask? Well, for starters, we're out of pork ears again (Grandma Jo please send some more). But, mostly because it's Monday and mom and the Old Man had to go back to work today. After such a great weekend we were craving time more time with them, but as Mom tried to explain she has to go work to earn more milkbone money...

Also, in case you were wondering, I did not poop in cousin Becky's manfriend's shoes. I had saved up a big one all day for deposit, but after Becky and manfriend brought us a FOOTLONG QUARTER POUND CONEY from Sonic, he soon became my new best friend. I would like to thank them for their generous gift, and let them know I hope they come visit again soon...bearing gifts of course....

Weekend Plans

Happy Friday friends! Below are my plans for the weekend, listed in no particular order:

• Sleep
• Poop
• Eat, hopefully another foot long coney dog from Sonic
  
• Terrorize the neighborhood tomcat
• Chew the Old Man's shoes
• Practice perfecting my basset hound howl, preferably at 5 am when my voice is at its best
• Hang out with my cousin Becky and her man-friend
• Beg for food off of their plates when the come over for dinner on Saturday. If they don't give it up willingly, then steal it from their plates when they are not looking.
• Poop in Becky's man-friend's shoes if he says one more time that he likes Lulu better than me.
• Beg for lots of belly rubs
• Check out the ladies at the local dog park
• Avoid bathtime
• Follow my mom around with sad eyes until she gives me a treat
• Drop kick Lulu

Happy weekending!
FLASH

Sssshhhhh!!!!!!

If I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a thousand time, “Flash, be quiet!”

When that doesn’t work, it's, “Flash Shut UP!!”

And if that doesn’t do the trick, then its a quick, “Want a treat?” … which, by the way, always works.

I don’t know why humans are so keen on making animals be unnaturally quiet. I mean, we don’t tell them to shut their pie holes when they go on and on about their mundane lives.

Do I really care that my mother got charged $1 for the side order of special sauce she requested at dinner last night? C’mon honey, get over it and spare my ears.

But it’s her prerogative to spew her spiel, and I don’t tell her to be quiet and cook me my dinner…although I should.

If only people were more like this couple of rooster owners in upstate New York.

PARMA, N.Y., Aug. 18 (UPI) — Supporters of a New York state rooster that earned its owners a noise citation told the Town Board the bird should be exempt from noise regulations.

Ruth and David Blodgett, owners of Blackie the Rooster, and their supporters told the Parma Town Board they believe the rooster should be exempt because the code does not cover farm and agricultural operations, the Rochester (N.Y.) Democrat and Chronicle reported Wednesday.

Ruth Blodgett said their property qualifies as a farm under the town code, which she said defines a farm as a property of more than 5 acres used to house animals. She said her property includes nearly 50 acres.

“The tax assessor has them taxed as a farm,” said Mary Eichas-Gavigan, a supporter who referred to herself as Blackie’s great-aunt. “If they’re not a farm, then the assessor should change it.”

Town Supervisor Pete McCann said the rooster was violating the noise ordinance under current interpretation of the law.

“The way we’ve interpreted the law at the current time, you are still in violation,” he said.

Just another example of the government’s flexibility to serve its constituents.

FLASH

Wordless Wednesday

I don't have a lot to say today, it is hot enough outside to fry an egg on my head. I broached the subject of a family move to Alaska with my mom, but she simply ignored me. So, in lieu of words, I'll leave you with a picture of everyone's second favorite basset.

Monday Musings

Summer is slowly winding down, and when I say slowly, I mean real slowly.

Temperatures are expected to plummet to 98 degrees this week while the humidity drops into the 80% range. If that doesn’t say comfortable I don’t know what does.

OK, I admit my aging bones love this heat. My parents, not so much.
But there’s a benefit to them, too. I’m low maintenance in this weather. No need for walks, car rides or trips to the squirrel farm this time of year.

And, because I stay inside, there’s no need for sunscreen.

My drool count tends to be a little high this time of year though, but I just use the Old Man's shorts as a rag.

Speaking of heat, what does a basset have to do to get some more frosty paws around here!?

(however, I did enjoy this delicacy from Sonic this weekend. that's right folks, Sonic's foot long coney dog. Unfortunately, I had to share with Lulu.)

Feeling Thankful...

I'm feeling thankful today. Maybe because of the extra milk bone my mom slipped me this morning when Lulu wasn't looking.

Anyway, I think we should all take the time to thank our owners for doing the right thing by bringing unbridled joy and love into their homes by adopting us.

I might crack a joke or two about my old man and his owner, but without the two of them I’d be pushing up daisies in the backyard of some upstate NY shelter.

If you didn’t know, in the winter those daisies are a bitch to push up.

So, thanks to my parents for being there when it counted. But, don’t sit on your laurels; run to the pet shop to resupply our depleted store of Frosty Paws. It’s the only way to show you truly love me.

FLASH

Lulu

Who sleeps like this? Seriously....what a weirdo.

Wednesday Ramblings

Just a few quotes and words of wisdom to brighten your Wednesday. Some from yours truly, some not.

"The temp says 98 but they say it feels like 109. That's like saying I'm gonna hug you, but it's gonna feel like I'm slapping you in the face. ~Tim Hawkins

"If you're not the lead dog, the smell never changes." ~Flash T. Ruyle

"The more humans stink, the happier they seem to be. My father is the happiest of them all." ~Flash T. Ruyle

"Until one has loved an animal, part of one's soul remains unawakened." ~Anatole France

"Does this Kong make my ass look fat?" ~Flash T. Ruyle

"Scratch a dog and you'll find a permanent job." ~Franklin P. Jones

"Money will buy you a pretty good dog, but it won't buy the wag of it's tail." ~Unknown

"A dog desires affection more than its dinner. Well - almost." ~Charlotte Gray

"Getting between a dog and his hydrant is like getting between Stephen King and his typewriter." ~Flash T. Ruyle

"Life is adequate." ~Flash T. Ruyle

A Question for You

Two Part Question: If a dog pooper scooper, picker upper finds money in a client's dog poop, do they get to keep it or is that considered the property of the owner?

If they get to keep it, how do you report that on your taxes? Under tips?

I'm wondering because when I poop, it's gold, baby and I don't want anybody to get in trouble with the IRS.

FLASH

Fill Me Up, Buttercup...

I’m thirsty.

My bowl is empty and I’m not sure when my parents are planning to fill it up with some good old H two Oh goodness.

During times like these a dog has to take matters into his own paws. Most times I’ll hoist myself up near Lulu's water bowl and drink from it. Unfortunately today, it has her hair in it and I find that disgusting.

The second alternative is to go outside and look for a puddle or a container with Mother Nature’s rain water in it. Sadly, it’s been drier here than the South during prohibition.

Which leads me to my last alternative: the toilet bowl.

Some dogs will tell you they prefer drinking from it even over their own water bowl. But not me. When I drink from a commode, all I can think of is my old man’s ass hovering above it.

Alas, desperate times lead to desperate measures, and I know I’ll be forced to close my eyes, think good thoughts, and drink from the family urinal. Screams of disgust from my mother will fill the air as she realizes what I’m doing. Hey, I find it repulsive, too.

Because I know You'll Miss My Face...

Dear Adoring Public,

I won't be blogging for the next few days because tomorrow morning I will be stowed away in my mother's suitcase, headed to Michigan for my cousin Becky's wedding. She doesn't know I'm going to be there (it's a surprise of course since I never received my invitation in the mail). Lulu will be staying at home with Grandpa Jerry, as she cannot be trusted at these sort of events. I am looking forward to the free food and booze at the reception. I only hope the cake is not chocolate.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with some photos of yours truly (and even Lulu) in my absence. Because I know you'll miss my face.

FLASH

"Jail Break"

Lately, I've taken to some escape tactics that my parents like to call "jail breaks." I secretly watch my parents approach the front door from the window, and when they open it, I love to break free and roam the neighborhood.

This, as one may suspect, causes my parents great fear. In their mind, what is to keep me from darting out in front of a car, or of getting lost and not finding my way home again?

Let me take this opportunity to break down my parents’ unfounded fears.

In all honesty, the chance of me getting hit by a vehicle is slim to none.

Three reasons why: 1) I love life too much, 2) It would be painful, and 3) There is no assurance it would get the job done. With my luck, I’d end up alive, and drinking my dinner through a straw the rest of my life.

Sorry, not taking that chance.

As to getting lost and not finding my way home? C’mon, I’m a dog not a toddler.

The main reason is that I pee on every possible landmark I see on my excursions. Not only does this make the neighborhood smell nice, but it acts as my yellow brick road home. Just because I don’t come running to my parents as they canvas the neighborhood for me, doesn’t mean I’m lost. It just means I’m ignoring them.

Speaking of my parents, it's their Anniversary today! They've been married three years, and damned if I can explain how my mom has put up with the Old Man that long. Anyway, cheers to them both on this special day....a day almost as special as the day they brought me home.

FLASH

Let's Make a Deal

Any interest in a slightly used spatula with my teeth marks on the end? I'll sell it, along with a lock of my hair, for a kong and a box of Frosty Paws ice cream.

FLASH

Two-legged lamb saved from the chop

Good morning ladies and gentlemen, cats and dogs, and penguins the world over.

Have you ever noticed that when folks encounter someone handicapped; be it a person in a wheelchair, a bird on a set of crutches, or a dog wearing coke bottle eyeglasses, they tend to look away. For whatever reason they feel sorry for what they perceive as someone/something that is disadvantaged.

What they fail to realize is that the object of their empathy needs no pity. For who’s to say what mission their soul is on, what lessons they are here on this earth to learn. In fact, what may appear as a handicap to one, may in fact be an advantage to another.

Don’t believe me? Then look no further than today’s story from the Metro.com.

Sheepish Cui, 38, says she would normally have killed the youngster at birth, but was so impressed by his struggle to survive she began to hand-rear him.

‘He was so determined to live he pulled himself up onto his own two feet and started drinking his mother’s milk. I couldn’t let him die,’ said Cui at her farm in Shangdong province, eastern China.

Now the baaamy young lamb – who weighed in at just 11 lbs when he was born – and Cui are inseparable.

‘He may only have two legs but he gets around very quickly and is pretty steady on his feet. He follows me everywhere and I haven’t got the heart to slaughter him.

‘After all, half my profit is missing anyway,’ she laughed.

Vets have told the farmer that the birth defect could have been a genetic throwback or the result of chemical pollution.

‘He doesn’t mind. He has such a friendly personality and I don’t think he even realises he’s disabled,’ said Cui.

So there you have a simple lesson on this glorious Monday morning from a handicapped, nay, a disturbed but gifted dog.

Next time you see me in public, be sure to make eye contact with me.