October 2008

I’ve tried to stay out of it, but I can’t.  I just have to share my opinion.  For months now I’ve been hearing you humans arguing over who should be the next alpha president—John McCain or Barack Obama.  Frankly, I don’t understand why you don’t handle it like we canines do; let them fight it out until one is hurt and gives up.  The winner becomes the alpha.  The loser is allowed back in the pack, just not as a leader.  That would be the respectable way to do it.  But, I digress…  

Using human methods you have to ask important questions that expose the real nature of the alpha candidates.  You dig deep and find out what dirty secrets the candidates are hiding.  Fortunately for you humans, I’ve done some research and have some startling results to share with you.  Forget all the dirt you think you’ve been digging up.  Nobody cares about socialism, terrorists, taxes, lack of experience or the other stuff you’ve been coming up with.  You’re missing the biggest issue.

According to an Associated Press article, John McCain shares his home with dogs, cats, fish and other animals.  He loves animals; especially dogs.  In fact, he has more animals in his house than I can count on two paws.  Barack Obama has none.  Zero.  Not even a Chihuahua (please, no email from the Chihuahuas).  Unimaginable!  Dogs have been in the White House along side of almost every alpha president this country has had since George Washington.   With no dogs, who would be there to help him relax after a hard day at the Oval Office?  Who would protect the First Family?  What would the White House lawn be like without dogs romping around on it?  I don’t know if I can trust an alpha president who doesn’t like dogs.  And you shouldn’t either.

It’s time you humans learned to fight for what’s right!  Fight to give canines the respect we deserve!  Fight to keep dogs in the White House!  Fight for the fair treatment of all animals!  Fight!  On Tuesday, get out there and fight for your four-legged friends!  

I’m Simba Dog and I approve this message.

This post is a little on the heavy side and not in my usual light-hearted style.  So if you’re looking for laughs or advice on potty training, you may want to skip this one.

As a spoiled dog, I sometimes forget how good I have it and how grateful I should be for all that I have.  My bowls are always full of food and water. My bed is warm and soft.  I have lots of toys and I get lots of treats.  And I never have to be afraid that someone is going to hurt me.

I just came across a website called PomRescue.com.  This site is run by people who help Pomeranians and other dogs that were abused by the humans they loved.  Most are either sick or injured when they are rescued.  I read a lot of sad stories.  Then I saw a Pomeranian named Tiny Tot.  He looked a lot like me.  Except he had no teeth and his hair wasn’t trimmed and combed nice like mine.  His legs were crippled.  Fleas ate into his skin.  A lot of his hair was lost.  He was hungry.  He was cold.  He was scared.  First I felt sorry for him, hurting, scared and confused.  What was he thinking?  What was he feeling?  Then I was angry.  How can humans be so cruel?  And they call us animals!  Then I realized, we are all Tiny Tot.  But by the grace of God, some of us are blessed more than we ever realize, and spared from a fate like his.

Tiny Tot

Sometimes I wish I had more toys.  I wish I could spend more time playing.  And I wish I had more friends to play with.  But I have teeth.  And my belly is full.  And my bed is warm.  Sometimes it takes someone like Tiny Tot to remind me of all the things I have to be grateful for.

If you find yourself in South Carolina and have a place in your home and in your heart for one of these rescued dogs, I know they would love to be adopted into a home where they can be loved, and even spoiled, like I am.

I love new rugs.  Especially the ones that come from far away.  I love the way they smell, the way they feel.  There’s nothing like a new rug being unwrapped for the first time.  Whenever my folks get a new rug I have to be the first to roll around on it.  It just feels so exhilarating.

Here’s a clip of me doing my spastic dance on a rug my parents bought recently.  My dad says something’s disconnected in my head.  I don’t know what that means, but I think he thinks I’m crazy.  I do a lot of things he doesn’t understand.  Like running around in circles.  I’m glad there’s another Pomeranian in the house now so he can see I’m not crazy.  We all act like this.  I’ll post a clip of Nalla and I doing our spaz-run when I get a chance.

Me wearing my sister’s dress

Talk about your embarrassing moments…  My mom bought a Halloween outfit for my sister Nalla at PetsMart—a frilly pink tutu.  Only problem is Nalla weighs less than two pounds.  The dress is made for a grown-up dog… like someone my size.  So mom’s not satisfied just putting it away until Nalla grows into it.  Oh no.  She needs to see how it’s going to look now.  And guess who’s the lucky dog that has to try it on.  My dad stuck up for me—said he didn’t want his boy wearing a dress.  But once it was on he couldn’t stop laughing.  He only stopped laughing long enough to take this picture.  Thanks dad.  They both thought it was funny.  There was a tiara that went with it, but I had to draw the line somewhere.  I wasn’t going to let her put that on my head.  As it is, some day I’ll probably snap and find myself sitting in a pshychiatrist’s chair, telling him how my parents made me wear a dress.  I just hope Spike, Rex and the other bullies at day-care don’t get their paws on this picture.  You don’t know what they’ll do to me.

What a week this has been.  I just started getting to know Nalla and then Grandma and Grandpa came to visit. It was fun playing with them.  I could smell another dog on them when they came.  I think it was my aunt Blizzard.  I’ve heard all about her, but I’ve never met her.  She’s a white German Shepherd and lives in Pennsylvania.  I’ve never been there.  Grandma and Grandpa are nice.  They brought us toys.  But as usual, Nalla took my toys.  I can’t tell you why, but I don’t like playing with my toys after she has had them.  Something about it bothers me.  Anyway, they left on Monday just like all the other people who come to visit me.  I hate when people leave.  It makes me sad.  But I’m getting used to it.

Nalla and I are getting along really well now that she recognizes me as the leader here.  For the first few days she was challenging me, trying to get me to submit.  Now when we play-wrestle she lays on her back to let me know I’m the Alpha.  I try to be gentle with her ’cause she’s so little.  She weighs less than 2 pounds.  I’m a big guy.  I weigh 7 pounds.  So I’m very careful not to hurt her.  Still, because I’m such a big, strong dog, they keep us separated during the day with a gate.  She has to stay in a small part of the house while I get the rest of the house.  It might also have something to do with her not knowing how to use a potty pad yet.  Sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn’t.  I’ll have to teach her to use it all the time like I do… usually.