Posts from the ‘Dog Tales’ Category

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…

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!

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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.