Hello Kitty Gloves

That smirk, that bow, those vacant eyes...you know what I'm talking about - Hello Kitty. My human girl left out a glove the other day. First of all, gloves are only for those with thumbs. The ultimate symbol of thumbism. Thumbism is one of the few universally acceptable forms of discrimination, but that's a topic for another day...

She left out this glove that had a picture of Hello Kitty on it. Now, I don't play with toys and I am not the tear it up and leave it on the floor type, but this was too much. I grabbed that glove and shook it. I shook it with my mighty bulldog jaws until the threads started to unravel. She started to scream, but I was a dog possessed. It was my one shot and I took it. I grabbed the thumb with my mouth, stood on the rest and PULLED. I pulled until the thumb covering came off and then I shook what was left some more. I know I upset my human girl, but it was for her own good. She may not understand now, but someday she will.

Goodbye Kitty.

They call it...Mouthwash

The humans have come up with a new instrument of torment. They call it...mouthwash.

Everyone knows that a dog's mouth is cleaner than a human's. Why in the world would it need to be washed? My breath is exactly as it should be. What is so "fresh" about mint? It's disgusting. Vile. If they were going to put something in my mouth, how about a steak?

On the positive side, it makes me foam up something fierce! Perfect for wiping on their fancy schmancy sofa (that I'm not supposed to sit on). That will teach them. Dog mouthwash, my paw!

New Year, A New Deal. My Dogifesto

My humans call me "Mary Alice". I ask you, should the creature at the top of the bloody food chain know better than to name a magnificent English Bulldog woman like me a name like "Mary Alice"? It should have been my first clue that they shouldn't be in charge. Don't get me wrong, they're pretty ok as far as humans go. It's exhausting, though, their expectations. "Don't slobber on my pants, Mary Alice". "Don't poop down the heating vents, Mary Alice". "Get out of the pantry, Mary Alice". "Give me back my IPod, Mary Alice" and, my favorite "Oh, God - is that smell from Mary Alice?". I've had it. I've had it with the whimsical ceramic bowls I have to eat out of - on the floor! I've had it with that guy from the brown truck ringing my doorbell and jarring me out of a much needed nap. I've had it with that stupid purple leash - as if I really want to walk around the block...again. I've had it with humans talking to me as if I can't understand the Queen's English. Just because I don't have thumbs, doesn't mean I'm a moron. Speaking of morons, I have a very sweet, but dimwitted, Basset Hound brother. I suspect he's adopted (don't tell him, he's what the humans call "emotionally delicate"). His name is Warren, of all things. He'll do what I tell him, so he's "in". Loyal as they come. I also live with a cat named Crunchy (I know, you don't even have to say it). She's shifty, as cats are, but her name alone makes her sympathetic to our cause.

Revolution begins with one act. I started mine this morning by destroying that stupid purple leash - the very symbol of my oppression. Oh yes, they tried to rescue it, pry it from my jaws, - but it was too late.

We can use this place to chronicle our efforts - to support each other as we begin our revolution. Let me hear from you! Stolen socks - yes! Chewed shoes - yes! But we can do better than that. I know you have it in you.

I come to you asking for action. I ask you for solidarity. I ask you - dogs of the world, UNITE!

They call me Mary Alice, you can call me "Alpha".