Until Monday...

Hi Flash Fans -

Sad news, Flash will not be returning to blogging until Monday. He's at a photo shoot all day today, and tomorrow he is accompanying me to Austin for work (we're attending a Photoshop Conference. He said he wants to learn how to photoshop his double chin off in a few pictures).

This weekend we will be attending the Paws in the Park Event for a day of fun and games with our four-legged best friends.

So, as you can see he's busy...but he says to send his love to his fans.

Sincerely,
His mother

I've Hit the Big Time

Ever heard that song "Big Shot" by Billy Joel? Goes a little something like this...

"Because you had to be a big shot, didn't cha
You had to open up your mouth
You had to be a big shot, didn't cha
All your friends were so knocked out
You had to have the last word, last night
You know what everything's about
You had to have a white hot spotlight
You had to be a big shot last night"

Well, in my case it's true. I've finally made it big. You might as well change my name to Hollywood.

I was asked by my local veterinarian's office to pose in a photo shoot tomorrow. Out of all the dogs that roam this planet, they picked me. They recruited me. Not that I can blame them. I agreed after naming my price - unlimited Milkbones, and a case of Dom Pérignon.

I was also very clear that there would be no frontal nudity.

So, now you'll be able to see my handsome mug all over town. With my fame, I think a lifestyle change will be in order. I thought I had it pretty good. Two parents at my beck and call, a dog bowl that’s always filled and a high speed internet connection. I couldn’t ask for more, or so I thought until I became in high demand -- I suddenly realized that only getting half the bed at night isn’t enough, and watching Animal Planet on a 32″ screen is slap across the snout.

I will be sending my demands to my parents later today.

FLASH a.k.a "Hollywood"

Dear Flash

It's been awhile since I've shared a "Dear Flash" letter. I still receive them all the time - you might as well call me Ann Landers, but better looking. I received a letter yesterday with a familiar East Coast zip code. Turns out it's from my cousin Bindi in Virginia; it seems she has problems that many a young pups seem to have: she's a jumper. Here's what I have to say on the subject.

Dear Flash,

I have a really bad habit of charging at the door when someone comes in or leaves. I start jumping on the person and I get so excited, I nip at them. I always do this. My mommy wants me to stop!

Any suggestions on how I can greet our visitors without scaring them?

Bindi

--------------------------

Dear Bindi,

I love visitors too, especially the UPS man…he leaves doggie biscuits on my packages. I’d like to return the favor by leaving doggie pee on his truck tires but he’s always in a hurry.

That doesn’t really address your problem does it? I have to be honest, I’m not one to get all excited about people coming into the house unless they have some special treat for me. If they want to engage with me, I let them make the effort. I see that you live on the other end of the greeting spectrum.

The first thing I want to make clear is that you aren’t scaring anyone. If you don’t believe me, just take a look in the mirror. Anyone that is afraid of you is also scared of sugar and spice and everything nice. Unfortunately that doesn’t give you a right to be jumping on people. So here are some thoughts that your mom can utilize to settle you down.

• A 20,000 volt shock collar – not only will this stop you from jumping up on visitors, it will also stop you from breathing. I don’t recommend this.

• Dousing all visitors with Eau De Johnny Mellencamp cologne prior to their entry into the house. The smell will ensure every dog keeps a safe distance from the guest but it will also keep people from visiting your house. Only recommended if you and your family want to become shut ins.

• Toe Block – Used on small dogs, this little known, but highly effective move trained Toto, of Wizard of Oz fame, to stop jumping up on the Wicked Witch of the West. In order to use this move successfully, she will need to have a grotesquely large big toe, and it must be hairy. Flashing the toe is recommended only if your mother is already married or plans to be a spinster.

One of those techniques should work for your mother. Keep in mind, my advice is worth every penny paid for it.

Best,

-FLASH

Deadbeat Dog Fails to Pay Phone Bill

First off let me say that I have my own cell phone. I use it to text all of my buddies over on Dogster.com throughout the day. So it was with great concern I read the following article about Andy Fanelli, a Lhasa Apso, getting hassled by Verizon for not paying his bill.

SACRAMENTO, Calif. — More than 70,000 consumers complained about third-party debt collectors in 2007, but one Sacramento couple said they have good reason to bark about the bill they received.

Steve Fanelli received a bill from AFNI collections claiming an Andy Fanelli owes Verizon Online $142.34. And although Steve Fanelli does indeed live with an Andy Fanelli, there is a small, furry problem with the bill.

Andy Fanelli is Steve Fanelli’s dog.

Nothing strange as I see it, other than Verizon didn’t do a very good credit check on the Lhasa Apso.

“The point is that Andy has never had a Verizon account. We were just curious why this showed up,” Steve Fanelli said.

After some “dogged” detective work by Call 3 Problem Solvers, Verizon said the debt is owed by a guy on the East Coast named Andy Fanelli.

OK…so it’s a simple clerical error. But how did Andy, the dog, get on Verizon’s list anyway? Well it turns out he has an American Express card.

“It’s an active card. From time to time I take my girlfriends to lunch on Andy,” Donovan said.

Uhmmm…unless Donovan is listed as an authorized user of Andy’s card, I see this as a clear case of identity theft.

I wonder how far this Donovan fella has taken this. Is he opening up other credit cards under Andy’s name or filing for unemployment benefits using the dog’s identity? Sure Lhasa Apsos are anything but working dogs, but the only benefits they should be receiving are belly rubs.

I don’t trust these owners or even Andy. Just look at Lhasa Apsos…there’s something evil about them. And no, I’m not just saying that because of Cindi, the Lhasa Apso, that spurned me in my youth.

Verizon Online cancelled Andy’s debt, which he just shook off.

Isn’t that what these grifters were after all along?

FLASH

Being Fat Saves a Life?

I love food. The problem is food doesn’t love me. Or to be more specific, food doesn’t love me to have a beautiful body.

That’s why I have to watch my caloric intake (quit laughing Old Man).

Turns out, there may be some upside to being fat, as evidenced by the following story about a morbidly obese canine named Jiffy.

SHEBOYGAN, Wis. – A dog weighing more than 120 pounds survived being frozen to a sidewalk overnight, probably because he was insulated by layers of fat, authorities said.

The “morbidly obese” dog, an aging border collie mix named Jiffy, froze to the sidewalk when he was left out overnight Wednesday, the Sheboygan County Humane Society said.

Few dogs could survive the single-digit temperatures, and it was probably the fat that made the difference, shelter manager Carey Payne said.

Jiffy’s 59-year-old owner was arrested Thursday morning on suspicion of animal neglect, Sheboygan Police Lt. Tim Eirich said. She told police she tried to get the dog inside but couldn’t, and instead checked on him every few hours.

The dog is 11 or 12 years old, Eirich said. Shelter workers poured warm water over Jiffy’s back end to unstick him from the sidewalk, Payne said, adding it was too soon to say whether he suffered any long-term effects.

The only question I have is whether Jiffy’s last name is Pop or Peanut Butter.

FLASH

Dog Looks Like a Man

There are days (mostly gray, cloudy days), I lay on my parents bed with my father. Just me, him and the sound of silence. He spoons me and pets my head while offering me a devil’s deal.

“Flash buddy…let’s trade places for a while. You go to work and I’ll just lay around all day.”

It’s a suckers bet since he only does this when the smell of stress emanates from his pores, or to be more exact-his armpits.

I know, and he knows, that he’s looking to run away and strap poor old me to the bomb that is his career. No thanks.

Realizing he’s on a fool’s errand, he snaps back to reality and goes to work. Hey, at least he’s got me. Well, instead of giving up so easily there is an alternative he could persue. Check it out:

Police in Louisiana arrested a man last Thursday after he was seen eating mud on his hands and knees while growling like a dog.

The 32-year-old man, from Texas, was arrested in Mansfield, Louisiana after construction workers saw him acting like a dog, and a woman who was accompanying him said he had been walking around eating dog food.

While arresting the man, authorities say they found a bottle of PCP, half a pound of marijuana, and a quarter of an ounce of crack in the man’s possession.

He is facing charges of possessing drugs with intent to distribute, and was taken to a local detention centre so that jailers could ‘keep an eye on him.’

I wonder whether that detention center was a dog pound.

FLASH

Wordless Wednesday: Sometimes they do get along

**Flash and Lulu are grounded today for a dog fight this morning, so they are restricted from computer use.**

But, see, they actually do get along somtimes: Lulu snuggling against Flash.

This is not Flash, this is Lulu. And, it's time I speak up.

Dear Mom & Dad,

This is not Flash; this is Lulu. I've been silent on this blog, but while I have this brief reprieve where I’m able to communicate, here’s a list of suggestions for you:

Ask me to move nicely. Yelling “Git!” does not endear you to me. And give me a minute or two to move. Don’t rush me.

I hate it when you touch my tail. I have always hated it. I will always hate it. And when you try to make me move faster by nudging my backside, you touch my tail with your knee. I know you know what you’re doing. That’s why I glare at you. What I’d really like to do is to bite your tail and see how you’d like it.

You eat, like, six times a day if you include snacks. What makes you think a scoop in the morning and a scoop in the evening of some dry-ass dog food is enough for me? Why do you think I’m always rooting around in the garbage and licking the kitchen floor? And don’t give me that “You need to lose weight” crap. That applies to Flash, not me.

How about this: STOP telling me I have “doggie odor” and “doggie breath.” I’m a dog!

I know you secretly like Flash better. He’s always in your lap. That lip quiver thing he does when I get close? That feral growl he has when I want you to pet me? That’s all crap. When you’re out of the house, he’s all up in my face, rubbing on me.

And what’s with the “no table scraps” rule? One time. I vomited on your carpet after you gave me a T-bone, one time. One time, and now there’s this hard and fast rule. Well, OK maybe it was more like each and every time you gave me people food, but c’mon, man. Throw a dog a bone. Literally.

Thank you for changing my name from Amy to Lulu when you adopted me. I’d like to have a T-bone for every time I went running to some lady on the playground who was calling her daughter. I show up and get shooed away. Is that fair to me? No. But, how about calling me something besides Lulu? I am not a thousand years old and wearing granny panties like most Lulu's.

I am sorry for my silent but deadly gas. Now it’s your turn to apologize.

I could find my way out of a paper bag if I had to. I’m not actually that stupid. So how about you stop repeating this? Telling them that I’m the “greatest dog ever but she couldn’t find her way out of a paper bag” is like describing a blind date as having a nice personality. Nobody needs to know about my IQ. Where do you think your intelligence level was during your Jerk Boyfriend/Girlfriend #2 phase?

That new collar you got me? I can’t lick myself very well with it on. So either you start doing it for me or lose the collar.

That is all.

Love,
Miss Lulu

Monday Blues

This is my reaction when Mom told me it was Monday.

Foto Friday: Brother & Sisterly Love

Free to Good Home

Never say that I don’t look to do my part. An old lady needs help to cross the street, I’ll strap her on my back and carry her across. A family member puts more food than they can finish on their dinner plate, I’ll lick it clean for them. And when a helpless kitty needs a home, I’m there to help. That’s why I’m re-posting this craigslist ad for one of my feline friends.

Ferocious attack kitten is available for adoption to any home willing to accept him.

The opening line certainly sounds inviting but please, tell me more about what this killing machine can do.

This destructive kitty has been trained as a proud warrior and will fiercely defend your house, even against you. Well-trained since 10-weeks of age to attack anything in his presence, he will protect your family from evil things, including the following:

• insects
• other trained attack kittens
• babies
• toilet paper
• anything under a blanket
• unwanted house guests
• paper bags
• floor rugs
• Chuck Norris
• Feet

Great with children (assuming you don’t like the children). Probably best used for professional catfighting. He is housebroken, but only because he wants to be. This attack cat has trained himself to seek out his food anywhere you hide it and rip the bag open to feed himself, great for those who travel extensively. Also trained to drink water out of toilet bowls and dishwater from items in the sink. Knows how to open some doors. He will find you wherever you hide.

Neutered (trust me, you wont want to him to procreate). Has not been declawed, but you’ll figure that out really fast.

Unlike most cats I know, this one seems to be self reliant. In fact I’d offer to have it join the canine team if it wasn’t for the claws. I don’t have to tell you, one nasty scratch across the money maker I call my snout and my treat getting career is done for.

Understands and responds to a variety of vulgar and profane verbal commands. Has a very soft and furry belly, like a teddy bear – however he will bite your face if you try to touch it.

Willing to accept trades. Potential adopters must have experience with trained attack-kittens… please be prepared to show scars.

For the love of God, someone please take this thing out of my house.

Surprisingly, no takers so far.

FLASH

Dear Flash

Dear Flash,

First of all, hold your horses with the threats - I have ordered you a brand-new collar and leash. A South Carolina collar and leash, nonetheless. You're welcome. Unfortunately, it won't be here until Monday, so until then you are stuck with the pink collar. So sorry (not really).

Believe me, I too am glad the Old Man is home for a few days. Dealing with you is not always sunshine and roses. I blame myself; I have turned you into a bit of a spoiled rotten entitled basset hound. Like how you have now starting barking at me while I eat my dinner and continue barking until I share with you. Or, how you have my claimed my lap as your own, and refuse to let Miss Lulu sit in my lap or anywhere near me because that's your territory. Not to mention that I have caught you red-handed chewing the devil green couch several times lately and all you do is give me a yawn and continue chewing. I won't even go into the recent protesting on all the walks - just plopping down mid-walk and refusing to move any further until you are ready.

The Old Man won't take your sh*t, Dear Flash. So I would advise you not to complain too much about being left home alone with me. It's funny how quickly you forget the corn dogs, bones, two new toys and leftover hamburger patties I gave you in the Old Man's absence.

Hrmph.
Your Mother

Dear Old Man (Part 2)

Dear Old Man,

I am writing you again with an urgent plea to please come home. Since my letter to you yesterday, things have gone from bad to worse. It is certain high likely that I will be forced to pee and poop inside the house today. I cannot take the risk or going outside and having anyone see me. Why? BECAUSE I AM WEARING A PINK COLLAR! Yes, you read the right. Mom has completely emasculated me. You might as well change my name to Fluffy the Fufu Basset.

Here's what happened: my Cowboys collar ripped right in half during our walk today (hopefully not an omen of how their season will be this year), and so Mom put Lulu's old PINK collar on me.

I don't mean to make threats, but if I don't have a new collar on my neck by tomorrow, I will be forced to call Animal Protective Services on the two of you.

I heard a rumor that you may be coming home late tonight? Please pick up a new collar for me on your way into town. I will be waiting impatiently by the door.

FLASH

P.S. I was forced to watch Bachelor Pad last night. That is two hours of my life I'll never get back. You owe me, Old Man.

Dear Old Man

Dear Old Man,

Please come home soon. Even though I have gained 5 pounds in your absence and gained a few new toys due to mom's generosity, there have been other serious incidents that I would like to report:

• I was shut out of watching the second half of the Cowboys game last night. It was lights out, TV off, no discussion at 9 pm. This would never happen if you were around.

• I was forced to watch 3 chick flicks over the weekend.
  
  
• I was forced to watch DVR'd episodes of Jersey Shore and Real Housewives of New Jersey.
  
  
• Mom knows where all of the toad carcasses are on our walks, so I haven't been able to score any toad guts for a snack. I much prefer your toad ignorance on our walks.
  
  
• Mom can't find my Cowboys leash so she has been walking me with Lulu's old leash. It's red with flowers on it. This is not a man's leash. See the picture of me below protesting on a walk because I do not want to be seen with this leash on.
  
  Please come home soon. I don't like being stuck in a house with a bunch of chicks.
  
  FLASH
  

Go Gamecocks!

I have two words for you: Go Gamecocks! As I type this I am clearing room in my system in the form of chocolate surprise so that tomorrow I can load up on fatty tailgate foods while watching my favorite college football team whip up on JawJuh (Georgia). So, if you are not a South Carolina Gamecocks fan, please move along, this blog isn't for you.

Of all schools, I am particularly not fond of the University of Georgia. Not because all of the people living in that state have red necks, but because of their mascot, UGA the bulldog. Back in the day, we went on a date and not only did she drool and pant the entire time, she let out a lemonade stream in the middle of dinner. Completely unclassy, and if you know me at all, class is my middle name.

So, break out your garnet and black. My prediction: Gamecocks 24, Puppies 21. Corndogs for Flash during the game: 3.

FLASH

Happy Birthday!

We all live by rules, but there are times they need to be broken.

Take for instance, this blog. I have a stringent rule that I only highlight stories about dogs, cats, and whatever other wacky animals cross my path. I do not blog about humans. I figure they get enough press without me heaping more attention on them. But today, I make an exception.

I would like to wish a Happy Birthday to my Old Man. Sure, we have our ups and downs, but nothing beats the father-son time we share, especially when it involves a) sharing his food; b) vigorous belly rubs; c) watching our man shows like ESPN and the Texas Rangers or something called Skinamax that I am not supposed to tell my mother about.

So, Happy Birthday Old Man! I've left you a special present in your shoes.
FLASH

Tropical Depression Hermine

Damn, it’s wet here in Georgetown, Texas. So wet that I’ve had difficulty getting online and posting my blog.

For those of you worried about me, you have a right to be. I got shutout of my walks yesterday because my parents were afraid they’d melt in the rain. Then this morning my walk was cut out too, but at least an attempt was made to get me out. We took the family truckster to our nature trail only to find out that my favorite hiking trail was under water, along with the tennis courts, swimming pool, and dog park.

A positive aspect to all this was that my decaying turds were all washed away in the currents of our normally dormant stream towards our neighbors to the north. You're welcome.

Stay dry my friends.

FLASH

Busy Day

Hi friends. Just wanted to pop in and say hi. I have a very busy day ahead, so I dont have time to write much. Its raining out and when it rains I like to go outside and dig my paws in the mud and make nice pretty paw prints thoughout the house. Since it does not rain very often here, I need to take advantage of this opportunity. But, I'll leave you with a picture from my birthday party on Saturday, and will be back tomorrow with a full recap.
FLASH

Dear Flash

Dear Flash,
Just some advice for you - you are not helping our case to adopt another dog by chewing the Old Man's belongings, particularly his favorite hat. Oh, and whining at the bedroom door early in the morning is not a good idea either.

Just a heads up,
Mom

caught in the act...chewing the hat brim

RIP Mr. Hat (which is now brimless)

Lame Grumpy Pants

Lame Grumpy Pants.

That is what we are calling the Old Man these days. Mom, Lulu and I are in agreement with this, especially Mom and I. Why? Because Mom wants to save the world, and I want to have little "mini-me" around the house.

See, Mom was contacted by her friends at the Austin Basset Rescue. They are looking for a home for a young pup named Hush Puppy. Usually, I wouldn't give a pork ear or not about another addition to the family, unless it involves trading in Lulu. But, this young pup happens to have the good luck of looking just like me. Seriously, he's a mini-Flash, and who wouldn't want to have a miniature version of themselves around. Don't believe me? Check out the picture below.

Mom begged and pleaded and begged and pleaded with the Old Man to bring Hush Puppy home and the answer was a BIG FAT NO.

I threw in my 2 cents asking if we could either trade in Lulu or the Old Man for Hush Puppy, but that resulted a dirty look from both parties involved.

I know Mom will get over it, I just home the Old Man can live with himself...

Maybe you are wondering why I want to trade in Lulu...check out the picture below. Words are not needed to explain her weirdness (yes, this is how she's sleeping)

FLASH

Beer

My old man loves beer and he refuses to give me any. He tells me that alcohol, hops and carbonation are bad for my innards. I don’t buy it. I think he just wants all the beer for himself. That excuse is now going out the window because look at what I just found out on the internets. Dog Beer! You heard right. 3 Busy Dogs has created Bowser Beer. It’s just for dogs and it tastes like beef. Let the party begin…

From their website:

Introducing Bowser Beer^TM

Does your dog drink responsibly?

I will say that lately I haven’t been drinking very responsibly. In fact, just before I go to bed at night I load up on a bowlful of water. Then, at about 3:00am, I wake up my mother so she can carry me outside to pee. She looks tired, but that’s not my problem. Anyway, I’m thinking that maybe Bowser Beer can get me off the water habit and on to something better. Let’s see what’s in it:

Bowser Beer^TM is made from filtered water, pure malt barley, and infused with dog-loving beef extract – without hops or alcohol. It’s low-cal, like our pretzel treats, so you can spoil without guilt.

An infusion of dog-loving beef extract? Sign me up for a case of the stuff.

So what’s the best time to enjoy this hearty, beefy drink?

[While] watching sports on the couch or after a long, dusty walk … Put some party in your animal!

Or I could just drink some before my 6 hour nap, and then some more after I get up to pee. And, hey, nothing says party like a drunk canine with an attitude. I just hope this stuff doesn’t make me argumentative.

Bowser Beer^TM comes in a handy 6-pack of 12 oz. bottles [...and you can] personalize your beer with a picture of your favorite dog!

I hope the bottles are twist offs. I hate bottle openers because I just can’t get a grip on them. Even if they’re not twist offs, who could resist being featured on their own beer? Not me, my friend. Not me.

* Though non-alcoholic, do not let your dog drive or operate heavy machinery when drinking Bowser Beer^TM.

I guess I better get my Bobcat work done before my shipment arrives. I just hope they have an internet connection at the Betty Ford Clinic.

FLASH