Golden Browned Retriever… Yum!

Just in case you missed the news, here’s the article from ABC, talking  ’bout how Obama likes eatin’ him some dog, dawg. Normally, I wouldn’t post anything from them, but Jake Tapper wrote this one, and since he’s ABC’s only honest journalist, up it goes!

All I know is something must taste mighty good at the White House…

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Which reminds me, has anyone seen that Taco Bell chihuahua lately? Heven’t seen him for about, oh, 3½ years now. Whut up wit dat?

Anybody up for some Chow Chow Mein? How’s about some Bernaise Mountain Dog? Pugs in a Blanket? Beagles and cream cheese?

Yanno, if this keeps up,  Obama could be hounded from office… with his tail between his legs! Ba-dump… tish!

Woof!

Dog Tales #001

Make yourself a drink, get a cigarette (or what have you), ’cause I’m gonna tell you a story…

I went down to Phoenix Mesa, AZ to babysit my brother Jesse’s apartment for about a month or two back in, oh, 1993 or so. Part of the deal was that I also had to babysit his family’s Maltese Terrier, “Coco” (nee Coconut).

Nothing against the dog. She was a sweetheart. I really enjoyed her company.

Meanwhile, I got a job slamming houses together in the Mesa/Scottsdale area. I took “Coco” with me to work every day and left her in the truck while I was pounding nails.

It was winter, and not hot. I  had a little fan that plugged into the cigarette lighter socket to blow on her while she slept in the passenger seat. During morning break, lunch break and afternoon break, I would let her out and she’d come join us guys and get all kinds of delicious treats. She was highly animated (as most small dogs are), and a welcome break from the drudgery of building houses.

This was working out well until one morning when I let her out of the apartment at 5:00AM to go pee, and she didn’t come back as usual. I figured out later that she was in heat at the time. Didn’t matter. I was in charge of the damn dog and I HAD to find her (I eventually did, a few hours later).

So here I am, dressed in my construction clothes and walking around this HUGE apartment complex in Mesa, AZ, in the dark, at 5:30AM yelling, “Coco!”,  Ooh Coco!” ,“Come here Coco!” etc., in my best little gentle-sounding voice. There’s no getting around it: I sounded like a damn fag. I can’t find any pictures of Coco right now, but she looked something like this…

As you can see, they’re adorable little bitches. Aw crap, did I just use the word “adorable” in a sentence? That tears it, I am a fag. Oh well.  

Fast-forward a few years… My brother now has another dog. She’s a 93lb. American Bulldog that he wants me to watch for “about a month” while waiting for the family house to get sold while he and the fam dambly lived in an apartment that didn’t take pets. What could I say? He’s my brother.

So, despite the fact that I’m living on the water in my immaculate (not!) vintage 1953, 31′ Chris Craft cabin cruiser at the time, I take her in. Her name was “Nala”. I guess Jesse lets his kids name the dogs/cats/gerbils/whatever, so they named her after the female lion in Lion King, their favorite movie.

Remembering my experience in Mesa, there was no way I was going to have a dog named “Nala”. I might as well just go out and start shopping for pantyhose and some sensible pumps..

So I re-named her “Butch”. “Butch the Wonder Bitch”, to be exact. The “about a month” turned into 18 months, but I really didn’t mind. She was a great dog, and very smart. I taught her some of the usual dog tricks, but she quickly became bored with them, so I taught her to do some celebrity impressions. It wasn’t hard to do, and she excelled at it.

For instance: I could say, “Do Elvis!”, and she would curl one side of her goofy-looking bulldog lips up in a mock snarl. Or I could say, “Do Madonna!”, and she would roll over on her back with her legs all spread-out. That one was a real crowd- pleaser.

I still miss that dog.

P.S. Get a whole CD for a dollar and listen to  own a song I wrote about my brother Jesse right here.