Here's the poop. Those wiseguys at King Pup take me for a spin every lunchtime and in return I agree to
cast a beady eye over the latest dog related developments and churn out a few words for the perusal of any dog enthusiasts in
earshot. It is I feel a quite satisfactory arrangement for the time being and one that I fully intend to maintain until such a time
as they've had enough of me, or I become blog-tired and decide to let sleeping blogs lie - whichever comes sooner.
Contact Us!
There Are Three Ways:
Call King Pup's NYC Dog Walker Hotline 917-683-2229
As reported by the Associated Press yesterday, the U.N. has called an emergency meeting after a dog was spotted sitting happily on a roof in North Dakota, in what must surely have been one of the slowest days for news in world history.
People across the world stopped what they were doing in stunned amazement as they wondered just how he could have gotten up there all on his own. The editor of the Beijing Daily speculated that it was a sign that America was threatening to undermine the communist economy with a new era of protectionism, while the Indian ambassador to Washington expressed concern that the incident could inflame ongoing tensions between his country and Pakistan.
A global thermonuclear war was averted at the last minute with the arrival of the news that the dog had simply climbed up a particularly high snowdrift and was eventually coaxed down by his owners, who exhibited geopolitical prudence by offering the pertinacious pooch a selection of his favorite treats.
Let’s hope the snow melts soon for the sake of the children.
The Westminster Kennel Club’s best-in-show has just been won by a ten year old Spaniel - and I’m not at all jealous.
Stump, who has probably never even had his own blog, made canine history by being the oldest contestant ever to scoop the esteemed 133 year old prize - beating seven younger dogs by somewhat more than a whisker.
It is not yet known whether the arrogant flop-eared hound was asked to prove the authenticity of his own teeth, but I am told that a thorough search was conducted for face-lift scars and none were found. I would have kept looking, but what would I know - I’m only a six year old boxer with a degree in English Literature and advanced keyboard skills.
Come on people, get a grip. The Westminster Kennel Club is about who you know and how many palms you’re prepared to grease. The only other thing you need is a bottle of 8-in-1 Pro Pet Salon Coat Shine Shampoo and a tin of Yip Yap Breath Fresheners. It’s not as if there’s any skill involved. So Stump can walk ten yards without farting. Well cram me into a lightly greased cake tin and bake me for forty minutes - I can do that too.
Give it a couple of weeks and his smug chops will be plastered all over boxes of Milk Bones and he’ll be adopted by Barack freaking Obama. Unless of course the British paparazzi catch him taking a bong hit at a party à la Michael Phelps. If there’s any justice in the world.
Simon the Jack Russel Terrier was hailed as a hero last night after making short work of a gang of nefarious balloons which had taken residence in his owner’s living room. The balloons, who obviously had an inflated sense of entitlement, were rendered motionless with fear as the plucky pup pitilessly popped the polychromatic posse in just 77 seconds in perhaps one of the most serious cases of mass rubbercide perpetrated since records began (when did YouTube start anyway?). The dog stayed at the scene and no charges were filed.
New Zealand has over 45 million sheep - that’s around 10 of the woolly critters per human, or 200 million sweaters.
Unfortunately they make terrible crime fighters, bank robbers not being the kind of fellas who are likely to drop their weapons and stick their hands up at the sound of a “baaaa.”
Consequently they have plenty of shepherds, just not of the four-legged German variety. Which is why a New Zealand police department is calling on German shepherds everywhere to drop everything and catch the next boomerang Down Under (yes they have boomerangs in New Zealand, I Googled it) to fill a shortage of police dogs. New Zealand not exactly being the epicenter of violent crime, I suspect that duties will consist of being tickled under the chin and barking at the occasional sheep for 364 days of the year. Now to land a cushy job like that in America, you have to join a union.
Lassie will be spinning in her grave to see the disgraceful examples set by Hollywood hounds in these, perhaps the most decadent times for dogs since the days of the Roman Empire.
It was only a few decades ago that dogs on the big screen set exemplary examples to young pups everywhere. Whether it was running off to the farm to get help or promoting Campbell’s soup, there was little (indeed nothing) with which to castigate the legendary Lassie - nor any of the other big-screen dogs whose perfectly charming exploits raised generations of puppies with the idea that caninity is a badge of honor, not a free pass to disgrace ones-self with an endless series of imbecilic shenanigans.
Which is why I don’t even need to see the movie “Marley & Me” in order to denounce it as crass, uncouth, loutish, tasteless, boorish, crude and a whole bunch of other words I’m looking at in my thesaurus right now. According to my nephew Pip, who has seen the movie - the star of the flick, in the course of two hours, is seen chewing up multiple sofas, terrorizing a pet sitter, swallowing a necklace, eliminating wherever he pleases, losing control during thunderstorms and knocking over his trainer.
Yes, I’ve done all of these things - in abundance. But I will tell you this! I didn’t learn it from Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, Strongheart, Toto, Benji, The Littlest Hobo or Columbo’s basset. The point is, without the influence of these screen titans I would have probably done them a whole lot more.
New York dogs were urged to be on their guard yesterday after a brazen snatch in Central Park left an area Bison Frise without a chew toy.
The four-paw discount - which was perpetrated in broad daylight a short distance from the E79th St entrance - was the work of a professional and had probably been planned for weeks, according to a tourist who managed to snap this dramatic shot of the getaway before the nefarious hound skedaddled into some nearby trees and disappeared.
“This was no opportunist crime,” said the witness, who did not wish to be named for fear of reprisals. “That dog knew who he was waiting for and what he was waiting for. The victim didn’t stand a chance - he leapt out of those bushes over there, snatched the bone and was gone in a flash. I would not be surprised if that toy was stolen to order.”
The victim’s owner, Tony Giordano, 46, said the whole incident left him shocked but puzzled. “It just all seemed so unnecessary,” he told us, “I mean I have tons of those things at home - look, I’ve got another two in my pocket right now. All the pooch had to do was ask. I usually carry a couple of extras just in case another dog wants Trixie’s - it saves friction. Hey, they’re only a dollar-fifty. Do you want one?”
I haven’t been this excited since I saw a cloud in the shape of Lassie.
Obviously bored of appearing on towels, mirrors, shrouds, pancakes, tortilla chips, baby’s ultrasound scans, bathroom ceilings and piles of grass cuttings all over the world, the image of Jesus has decided to try something new, by appearing on Roger Bowman’s dog door in Yucaipa, CA. Complete with handlebar mustache.
Bowman, 41, had been planning on getting rid of his two dogs, one of whom is apparently a little snap-happy in the presence of strangers. But now, after noticing the spooky apparition (which is only visible from a certain angle in certain lights), the credulous chump has decided to give the two bowsers another chance. “It’s a sign,” says he.
It’s a sign alright. It’s a sign that your dogs need a good bath.
Pass the Poochie on the left hand side
Pass the Poochie on the left hand side
It a gonna burn, give me music make me jump and prance
It a go done, give me the music make me rock in the dance
Etc.
My friends, I take back everything I said about dogs on treadmills. This looks like tremendous fun and just the thing to help me shake off the unsightly turkey paunch I picked up over the holidays (actually it wasn’t just the turkey - like most bespectacled Boxers l spent most of Thanksgiving with a cigar in one paw and a glass of port in the other).
Now if I can just find a gym in Manhattan that I’m not banned from. I’m afraid my last visit to Crunch resulted in a little unpleasantness involving me, a rowing machine and the previous night’s Pedigree Choice Cuts Beef & Barley. Word gets around fast.
I’ve always been weary of the claim that a wet nose is a sign of canine health. If that were really the case then I’ve yet to meet a sick dog. A pooch with a dry nose is like Columbo without a cigar. You know it has to happen sometimes but you can’t ever recall seeing it. Even if dry-nosed hounds occur, the frequency with which we dogs propel our snouts into water bowls, puddles, toilets and the like means that they’re not likely to be noticeable.
But now, it seems that dry-nosed mutts aren’t sick, they just have a very bad sense of smell. It turns out that our snout mucus - that slimy opaque matter which we use to mark our favorite window-gazing spots - is actually a highly advanced whiff-filter which helps to pre-sort and identify our smells, according to egg-headed boffin Brent Craven of Pennsylvania State University.
So there you have it. If you humans could just bring yourselves to be a little snottier then you might begin to understand just what’s so interesting about that fence at the bottom of the street. You might get to those two day old pizza crusts in the gutter before we do. And you might learn to appreciate a fresh bouquet of dog-butt. Best of all, you might finally realize just how bad your deodorant smells.
Soon to be not-President Bush had a stern talk with soon to be not-First Dog Barney yesterday after reports emerged of more chomp-attacks the sour Scottie has administered on anyone within fangshot.
Further to revelations that the nefarious, wild-eyed hound is literally spitting chips at the prospect of having to surrender his White House cushion to another presidential pup, it has now been revealed that the fiery furball is livid that his own geopolitical agenda will remain unrealized.
The agenda, known to White House sources as the “Barney Dogtrine,” involved a program of ferocious barking and snarling at some of the world’s most heinous totalitarian dictators, including Kim Jong-il, Muammar Abu Minyar al-Qadhafi, Ali Khamenei, Hu Jintao and Cesar Millan.
With those plans now in ruins, Barney is on the warpath - and his owner isn’t happy.
“Just cool it, OK?” a visibly discountenanced Bush was heard to hiss into the pooch’s ear after a press conference yesterday, “I mean it Barney, simmer down. You’re embarrassing me and you’re embarrassing yourself. You’re going to stop this nonsense and you’re going to stop it now. I’m losing my executive privileges and you don’t see me biting anyone, do you?”
