3 years old (that's 28 in dog years)

It's my birthday. Please send presents!

Lulu

The face only a mother could love.

Thursday Words of Wisdom

We don’t always get it right the first time.

When I was young, I thought I wanted to be man’s best friend. Turned out I just wanted the treats.

Then there was my first encounter with cats at the animal shelter. They had me believing they were sweet, smart, wonderful creatures. I came to find out, you can’t wag around these creatures without your tail being attacked.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the first time I had to fart in public. Well, let’s just say I let a solid one slip by the goalie while standing in a living room.

But hey, that’s what life is all about; building up experience so we make the right decisions the next go around.

Do I waste my time begging for onions, grapes, or chocolate these days? Heck no. Better to utilize my begging allowance for peanut butter, hot dogs and watermelon (preferably seedless because I hate spitting the seeds out on the floor).

Let these be life lessons to all you young pups.

Warning!

Warning label on my new medication: May cause dizziness. Avoid alcohol and operating heavy machinery. So, no booze or driving my tractor around town? Damn.

Vet trips, Sesame Street, and I still Highly Dislike Lulu

Peeps. I don't even know if you'll believe me when I tell you what a crazy week it's been for me. Let's just start with 3 trips to the vet last week. Yeah. That is how much my week sucked. And, this week hasn't started off too peachy for me either since Lulu stole my milk bone from me. Bitch.

I was pretty much relegated to the couch last week. One, because it's still 100+ degrees, and I can't exactly shed my fur coat when I go outside. And, two, I haven't been feeling very well. After being poked, prodded, drugged and violated by the vet on multiple occasions last week, all I wanted to do is channel surf from my favorite spot on the couch.

I want to talk about something I came across while channel surfing last week: a television show called Sesame Street.

I never had the opportunity to watch Sesame Street while growing up.

My formative years months were spent trying to survive in the streets and in animal shelter lock downs.

I had a rough beginning so it wasn’t until I was a mature basset that I got my first glimpse of a big, yellow bird on TV last week, creatively called Big Bird.

Color me unimpressed.

Is it me or does this bird get overly excited when he discovers new things?

Hey, Bird, settle down. Seven times seven has always equaled 49.

And talk about being afflicted with Debbie Downer Dachshund Syndrome, he gets extremely disappointed when things don’t work out.

But then again, how emotionally balanced is a bird going to be when his best friend is an imaginary wooly mammoth?

Maybe it’s best I didn’t grow up watching this stuff.

Thank you

Thanks to everyone for their concern for me. Mom and the Old Man are taking good care of me!

Wanted: Treats

Prayers for Flash

Dear Flash Fans,

I'm sorry to say you won't be blessed with Flash's humor or wisdom today, just a prayer request from his mother instead. I know you all love Flash as much I do, and this afternoon, our buddy Flash has to take an emergency trip to the vet.

Flash is too tough to let you all know, but lately he has had some bad jaw trembles and uncontrollable drooling. Last night, I noticed an abscess, raspberry in size and in color on the outside of his mouth, near his jaw. It's not a pretty sight. This is likely the cause of his trembling and drooling. Flash will need to go into the vet today for evaluation. Please send your prayers Flash's way today that is abscess is nothing serious.

Love,
His Mother

Flashy Poo...

I’m an artist.

I strive to create something wonderful and special every day, and no, I’m not talking about the words I type on this blog. Granted, it’s prose Shakespeare would be proud of, but it’s really my second calling.

My first calling? Sculpting.

To be more precise, forming my poo into works of art.

On days where I don’t feel inspired, I’ll usually create my mass market favorite, The Dairy Queen Swirl. On other days I might create The Coffee Log or The Snake or my favorite, The Splatter.

I know they’re good. Why else would my mother pick them up and save them in little plastic bags?

I know I could do better marketing my creations so more people could take in and enjoy work. If only there were a way to get greater exposure.

The Old Man's Facial Hair

Since school is about to start back up, my mother has been urging the old man to shave and clean himself back up for the new school year. But, my old man like’s to grow facial hair.

It’s not because it makes him look good or dangerous. It’s because he’s lazy.

He shaves once a week whether he needs it or not. Sadly, he’s got the same regiment when it comes to showering.

My mother isn’t a fan. Thank god, because if she were she’d blow his smell my way (Get it, she’s a fan!). A dog can only handle so many nasty smells before he passes out. By all accounts, I’d never wake up.

About the only thing my father is diligent about is pulling the lint out of his belly button. He’s almost done with his sculpture named “David”. Personally I think it looks more like the Michelin Man than the famous Michelangelo creation, but hey, I’m no art connoisseur.

Anyway, I am not sure what kind of progress my mother will make with the Old Man's facial hair. At least when he grows his facial hair it’s the full deal and not a mustache.

The Bachelorette: My Thoughts

Last night was the season finale of the Bachelorette on ABC. Everyone was talking about who Ashley was going to pick, and honestly, I feel sorry for the poor sap she chose. Not because I don't think she's got a nice pair of legs on her, but because she's a dentist.

I’ll be the first to bark it, I don’t like dentists.

It’s not the people behind the profession I have a problem with, in fact many give treats, but the invasive procedures required to clean my teeth.

If I want you to pick out that week old piece of barbeque chicken embedded between my molars, I’ll open my jowls and invite you in. If not, stay clear.

It’s as simple as knowing your boundaries.

Good luck with that one, JP.