This is messed up.

What kind of crazy effer tortoise thinks he can chase a dog? I don't know what I would do if I encountered a tortoise in my backyard. Well, yes, I do. I would lose my shit. No tortoise is going to prance around in my backyard like he is the greatest thing since chewy meaty dog treats. I flip over a kitty in my yard. That is well proven. In fact, just this morning I was hot on the trail of one black effer. I almost had him.

Too bad I can't hop fences like those damn kitties.

I am feeling better now. My owners were thinking I was freaking Rocky Balboa. Three long walks in a row just about killed me. Now we do one lap around the park, and then they drop me off at home and continue on. That is A-Okay with me.

Wolf Balm

I thought I was badass, but this takes the cake. I tip my hat to this tough effer. Notice how his buddies are trying to get his attention as if to stop him, and he is like, "Hell no! This police car is my bitch!"
I am not feeling well. I am feeling old and have stiff muscles.

I need some Tiger Balm for dogs, but I bet they only make that stuff for damn tigers and kitties, who are bastards and do not deserve pain relief like dogs do! Dogs are a man's bestfriend! We deserve to have Wolf Balm or something.

Junk in the Trunk

Another crappy video for your viewing pleasure.

I am a dog. An old dog at that. I don't think Brad and Julie are going to pay to send me to film school. If they had that kind of money they would be on the first plane to somewhere exciting, and leaving me at home with grandma.

I tell you, I get no respect around here. Brad is continually threatening me with, "Howard, be good or I'll give you a bath," or "Howard, do you want a bath?"

What kind of stupid question is that?

Another thing, the whole family came over for dinner tonight. Meatloaf, baked potatoes, salad, and garlic bread. My sense of smell goes crazy with meatloaf. I bark. I cry. I whine. I make an imbecile of myself just to get a small chunk of meatloaf.

Those bastards didn't give me any.

You know what they said?

"You're too fat Howard. You need to lose weight."

Sonofabiscuiteater!

Here is a newsflash. I am OLD. I don't want to lose weight. I just want to be able to take my daily walks. Who cares if I have a little extra junk in my trunk? Who?

Don't answer that.

Whitey

So here is a video of me, Howard, on a walk with Brad and Julie this evening. I wanted proof of some of the crap that I have to put up with on my evening walks. This particular video is of one white effer we'll call "Whitey" who wanted to fight me.

Whitey wanted to fight me. Yes, he did, and I was in no mood.

As you can see from the video, I was NOT going to put up with his tactics. This is MY park that I HOWARD walk in EVERY SINGLE DAY.

I let old Whitey know in no uncertain terms that he could just back off.

You can hear Julie in the video saying, "How cute!" Another thing that just boils my blood. I am the cute one, NOT Whitey. Me! Dammit, me!!!

What do you think Brad would do if some hot looking stud muffin walked by and Julie drooled and commented on his hotness? I'll tell you what he would do, he would bark like a junkyard dog too.

As Good As I Once Was

Look at what an obedient little "shiny-coated magnificent bastard" I was!


Brad and Julie ran across this baby picture of me, and started getting all teary-eyed and maudlin on me.

On my walk today I was just pooped. Pooped I tell you! I was taking a leak and got a little unstable on my three legs ((cough)) and in the process toppled over and ended up on my back somehow. Not exactly sure how it happened, but maybe I am getting old. Naaawww! There must have been a slight hole there or something to trip me up.

Or perhaps I was just sore from the big fight yesterday.

In the words of the magnificent effer and country singer and song writer extraordinaire, Toby Kieth, "I ain't as good as I once was,
But I'm as good once as I ever was."

Boss Howard

Yeah, you better run big guy!

Julie is on an exercise kick to take longer walks, so we took a new route, and lo and behold who did I meet but this ferocious effer? He thought he could take me on, but look at him run like the coward you know he is! Look how tough I look. I am one tough bastard, even for nearly 12 years old. Why, I bet that effer is 1/2 my age!

He is lucky there is a fence between us! I would rough him up, and show him who the boss is. Me. I am the boss. Boss Howard.

(Shhh...don't tell Howard, but this big guy could have eaten him for a snack. Howard, however has very fragile ego and we just let him think whatever he wants. Especially at his elderly age. We think he may have gone into congestive heart failure after this walk.)

A Good Poop

In the Prime of My Life

I'm nearly 12 years old. This June will be the big month.

I have aged well, donchoo agree?

Right now, I am lookin' and feelin' pretty damn good.

Do you want to know what I credit it to?

Of course you do, and this is my dog blog so I am going to tell you.

Regular bowel movements. Plain and simple. If you do not poop you will die.

There is nothing, nothing like a good poop in the park, and that is what keeps me young.