EXPENSIVE TASTES

Hi Hoomans! I diddunt forget to write the rest of Abby’s story, Mom just wudden give me any computer time until now. Don’t you think I deserve my own laptop with Dragon Dictation on it?

Anywaze, you probably want to know how it all turned out. Her Sunday evaluashun was durned good for a dog who had just spent three weeks in a shelter. Mom found that Abby was disctrackted (what terrier izzent??) over the birds and (sorry YumYum) guinea pigs and hamsters but not to the point of lunging at them.

Abby was friendly to all the dogs and all the hoomans she met at the store. She even kissed a baby that was in a stroller! Dad said she might have been tasting the baby but Mom knew better. They walked around the store for over an hour and at the end of it, Abby had learned that the word “Halt” means to stop walking and stand beside Mom and the shopping cart. Ackshully, by the end of the hour, Abby was halting automatically without having to be told to do it. She did want to run with some boys who were being hooligans in the store, but hey, that’s just to be expected!

Then Abby spent a few days with her foster family and played with their dog alot. That was Guinness. They really liked each other and it was hard for Guinness to tell Abby good-bye when it was time for her to go live in Auburn, AL.

BUT – her new family takes her to work with them and got her a new bed with her name embroidered on it and her new dad built a stand for her food and water bowls that has her name on it AND he is building her an air-conditioned dog house for when she wants to be outdoors during the summers. They took her to the spa to get a bath and a haircut too.

And Mom got a text message from Abby’s new dad this morning that said Abby has expensive tastes. Over the weekend, she chewed up her mom’s Chanel sunglasses and her dad’s Costa del Mars sunglasses. And you know what that means, right? It means Abby really really loves her new family!

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

before spa

after spa

Abby is AAAROOING with happiness!

MORE ADVICE TO THE DOG-WORN

DEAR HOWLING HOOLIGAN,

The neighbors decided to use the corner of our yard as a parking lot, and yesterday, our dog, Ruger decided he was afraid of the one and a half cars that were parked half in our yard and half in the street. (Yesterday morning, there was food, or something, in the street near where one of them had been parked. My husband Mark said it looked like cake and ice cream. Whatever it was, he took the hose out and washed it down.)

Now Ruger doesn't even want to go out the front door. Once I get him out the door, he won't go near that area of the yard, even though the cars aren't there. He'll walk west, quickly, with his butt tucked. But coming back home, last night and this morning, when we get four houses from our house, he sits down and absolutely refuses to move. Last night, I started playing with him and got him running and ran him past the next door neighbor house. This morning... no go. He'll pull backwards until he hurts himself with the prong collar, then do it again. So I carried him, all 60 pounds of him, until we got to the neighbor house, then set him down in the middle of the street. He immediately tried to go into the yard across the street, then finally rushed past the neighbor house and home.

<sigh>

I've walked the area over and can't see anything, like a snake or wasp's nest, that would make him so afraid. And if it was the cars...they're in their yard today. Where the food was smells bad, so I'm going to take vinegar out there and wash it again, but...since when does a dog mind the smell of rotten food?

Any advice?

Veronica

Dear VerRoNIca,

YOUR NEIGHBORS ARE RUDE.

First of all, you need to go over there and ask them NOT TO PARK IN YOUR YARD.

Then, go get some kind of permanent structure to put in that corner so that they cannot park there.

Ruger thinks that part of the yard belongs to someone else, that it's not his property anymore. Someone may have thrown up or urinated there, who knows? But that's what's probably going on with him. Mark may have to go out there at midnight, take Ruger with him, and urinate in that corner. Seriously. Let Ruger watch him do it. Of course, Mark should stand with his back to the neighbor house so that they don't see him doing it <grin>.

And he may have to do that several times before Ruger gets the point. You can also take a chair over there and sit in that corner with Ruger and read a book for awhile. Don't make a big deal about it, just do it.

Wow, your neighbors must have really unpleasant body function odors to make a tough dog named Ruger too scared to even go past the house.

Sincerely,

The Hooligans

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

Abby's DPA started Saturday

DPA.  That means “Dog Personality Assessment”. I’ve noticed that hoomans like to use abbreeveeashuns. Guess they think it makes them sound smart.

We don’t have enough time to tell you about the whole test and Mom said you would prolly get bored reading all of it anyway. I don’t think you would get bored because you enjoy reading about Hooligans already but I don’t argue with Mom. Much.

Maggie woodent let Abby play with any of our toys at first. She grabbed Jack’s green Frog away from Abby and growled and took it to her crate. Abby was real nice about letting go of the Frog. And when Maggie went around the house collecting all our toys to take to her crate, Abby just watched her. Mom said that meant that Abby is not possessive about stuff.

Maggie put all our toys that she could find in her crate and then lay down on top of them. Mom said that just proved Maggie is a real @#*&^ and that you would know what that means. Do you?

Mom locked the door to Maggie’s crate and left her there in what Mom calls rotten splendor. Maggie had the dog den all to herself while the rest of us, including Abby, had to settle for treats. Yummy, bacon flavored treats. Mom told us to sit and wait while she held a treat out to each one of us. We all sat like gentlemen and Abby watched us and did what we did. When it was her turn, she took the treat very gently from Mom’s hand. She didn’t try to steal treats or food from us the whole time she was with us, so we know she is not possessive or growly about food. Maggie howled because she could smell the treats and she wanted one, but Mom said “too bad, Maggie, you made your bed and you can lie in it!”  (Mom can be tuff like that.)

Later that afternoon, Mom put the other Hooligans in their crates. I stayed out so I could be a nootral dog, and watched her and Abby do some more evaluating. I had to stay very quiet on the sofa while Mom threw a squeaky toy for Abby and Abby ran right after it and brought it back and dropped it at Mom’s feet! She can also catch a treat in the air when somebuddy throws it to her, just like I can. And, she learned how to lie down and stay for 3 minutes while I was sitting next to her, and she learned the “leave it” command real fast and she did it much better than Maggie and Buddy do. It was fun and me and Mom and Dad were very impressed with her. But not everything was perfect. After supper that night, the parents caught Abby trying to take hooman food from the table. And that wuzzent all. Abby likes to collect stuff just like Maggie does. She collected socks and shoes and a remote control and a magazine and, well, just whatever she saw that looked intrustring. Whatever grabbed her attenshun, she tried to put in her mouth and run away with it. But she wuzzent growly about it and when Mom or Dad had to take stuff away from her, she didint get mad. I think this is prey drive but it’s not crazy prey drive like Maggie’s is. (Did I say that out loud?)

When the house evalyuashun was over, Mom let me and Abby go out in the back yard for a romp. We played bitey face and tag and we chased skwerrels and barked at the neighbor’s horse. We had FUN!

So that was Saturday. Sunday, Mom went to PetSmart to observe Abby around strange hoomans and other pets and loud noises and unexpected happenens. I’ll tell ya about that tomorrow. In the meantime, y’owl go get yursevs a good treat. I’m gonna do the same!

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

playing bitey face

INTRO TO ABBY!

We met Abby yesterday afternoon.

Me and Jack and Buddy are all delighted to have Abby at Hooligan House. Mom introduced us one by one. She had Abby in the front yard first, on her leash, and Dad brought me out there to meet her. We sniffed and sparred and sniffed and sparred and then Dad told me to go lie down and stay in the far part of the yard. I did.

He went in and got Jack and Jack was even more polite than I was. Jack doesn’t sniff another dog unless that dog starts the action. ‘Course, his real name is Gentleman Jack. Dad never lets the rest of us forget that. But Mom has some real good Hooligan stories about Jack from when he was young and before he got all obeedeeyense trained. Jack said hello to Abby and then he went over to his spot by the gate and lay down.

Buddy was kinda rambunctious and thought Abby was his new dog.. You know how it is; Buddy thought that her being there meant he had moved up in the Hooligan hierarchy. So he postured and growled at me and Jack until Mom squirted him in the face with vinegar water. That pretty much knocked the sense back into him. He went over to the flower bed and scratched off in protest, but he lay down like he was sposed to.

Sissy dutten like to be sniffed by any other dog and she dutten like to play with anydog except Jack and the Gkids’ dogs, so the parents just kinda bypassed that introduction. Sissy walked around Abby and Abby stood very still. I guess she was reading Sissy’s body language loud and clear. But it’s okay. Like Mom says, dogs don’t hafta get along with everydog they meet, they just hafta be polite.

And then there was Maggie. OH MY dOG.

Maggie is the princess, remember? She lost no time in letting Abby know it. Abby is juss a liddle girl, only about a year and a half old, and she hasent had any dog ettikett lessens yet. She didden know what the heck Maggie was growling and snarling about. Abby finally juss sat down and looked up at Mom. Mom squirted Maggie with the vinegar water, too.

Mom and Dad know better than to let Maggie be alone with a puppy because she would have bossed Abby around sumpen turrible and made Abby feel shy and unsure. Puppies, even older ones, go through deevellopmenttal stages where anything can scare them and ackshually give them a phobia for life. So Jack is the guy at our house who trains puppies.

Jack is what trainers like our Mom call a “neutral dog”. Jack knows from his gut what body language to use to talk to individdyouall dogs. He knows how to send calming messages to dogs that are nervous. He settled Abby right down after Maggie went back into the house.

Mom said Abby has typical terrier resilience and adaptability. That’s because as soon as Maggie went inside, Abby perked up and started playing with us boys while Sissy watched from the porch. Abby didden think twice about Princess Maggie. At least, not while we were playing tag. When we all went into the house, there was a slight kerfluffle over who the toys belong to. But I’ll get to that part later.

Oh, Mom says to tell you all that Abby is precious and sweet and HIGH OCTANE and Mom wishus she could keep Abby with us forever and ever. I think Abby loves Mom, too. Here’s a picshure of Abby cuddling Mom’s foot last night after us Hooligans went to bed.

Saturday, I’m going to have Abby all to myself to play with. I can’t wait!!!

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

How many Airedales does it take to make a Coincidence?

Abby will be here Wednesday afternoon!

She will spend the night with us and then go to the vet the next morning to be spayed. She’ll spend that night at the vet and then we’ll go pick her up on Friday. WE ARE JUST TREMBALING WITH EXCITEMENT! ‘Cause that’s when the shenanigans will begin.

But there’s sumpen odd that happened over the weekend, and us Hoolies do love a good mystery.

Abby’s real name is one that the breeder gave her and it is unusual so Mom thinks it has to do with the kennel where she was born. We are just calling her “Abby” because we think she looks like an Abby. Mom says we can’t reveal her real name so I’ll call it “Alakazam”. Here’s the coincidence:

Yesterday my groomer sent Mom a smartphone pitcher of an Airedale Terrier named Alakazam! She groomed her Saturday and said she’s sweet but hyper. (Well, NATCHERLLY she’s hyper! She’s a Hooligan!)

Mom just about fell out of her chair when she saw that pitcher. She said, Abby and this Alakazam are probly from the same kennel and might even be SISTUHS because they are about the same age. So she is gonna ask the grooming salon to ask Alakazam’s hoomans to phone us. Mom wants to try to find out this week where Alakazam was born because the more information she can get about Abby’s dog parents and where she came from, the better for the new forever family AND for Abby. Mom might even be able to get medical histories and all that stuff!

I don’t know why they need to do a telephone call to find out if Abby is related to Alakazam..
All they gotta do is let the girls sniff each other....

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

This is Alakazam

Howling Hooligan's Advice Column

Dear Howling Hooligan,

My dog is unable to reverse. Is this normal or simply more proof that her mom and dad were indeed brother and sister? Thanks for your time.

Sincerely, Suzy's Mom

      Dear Mom of Suzy,

 

Dogs can develop fear of any person, place or thing. Hoomans call it having a phobia and they go to hooman vets and get spensive trankwillizers to cover up their phobias. Dogs just hafta deal with their issues.

If Suzy had anunfortunate puppyhood all on her own without kind hoomans to help her, she might be refusing to go backwards because something turrible happened to her one time when she did go backwards.

Maybe she stepped on a nail or a piece of glass. Or onto something blazing hot. Or maybe some other dog attacked her from behind. It’s hard for hoomans to understand dog fears sometimes, because we don’t think exactly the same way you do.

Is it really important for Suzy to walk backwards? If it is, my mom can probly help you come up with a beehavyer modafacashun plan that will help Suzy. But it won’t happen right away. You will need alotta paeshense and compasshen and you will need to help Suzy take tiny steps toward the goal so that she won’t feel presshured.

We hope this helps. You seem to be a nice Mom, in spite of your strange sense of hoomer.

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

REAL FEEL

Temperature

98.1 °F

Real Feel: 125 °

 

Buddy is hot

 

 

Maggie is hot

Duke is never too hot to pose

But we are really some very HOT DOGS!

 

STINKUM

The weather in Alabama is into a midday thunderstorm pattern now. The ground in our yard is so damp, there are toadstools growing in the dirt. We like to pounce on them and break them but Mom and Dad won't let us eat them. Under our backyard deck, the dirt is really really mu-u-ddee.

That means that me and Maggie have been muddy too. Mom says Maggie is like a character named Pigpen in a newspaper comic strip. Everywhere Maggie goes, a cloud of dirt follows her. Us Hoolies don't see that as a problem. Caked on mud keeps the skeeters away. But hoomans, even hoomans like our parents who really love dogs, aren't crazy about mud patties in the house.

So today I got took to the groomer. Maggie stays home for her baths because she doesn't like to go to the grooming salon. (And that's all we have to say on THAT subject. At least for now.) It isn't fair. I come home smellin' like I've been in a perfoom facktry and Maggie just smells like oatmeal shampoo. Last time I came home from the groomer, Buddy didn't like the way I smelled and he tried to attack me. No matter how often Mom tells 'em not to stink me up, the groomers always do. But Mom was determined today so away we went.

I got home about three hours later and I didn't want to get out of the car. This time, the stinkum perfoom was turrible. Mom had to roll down the car windows just so we could drive home without choking. This time, instead of trying to attack me, Buddy ran away from me. Maggie wouldnt even spar with me. They just left me there in the yard, all by myself.

So, I decided to do sumpen about it and I had a good couple of stabs at getting dirty again until Mom figured it out and yelled at me. "DUKE DONALD WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" 

Scratchin' off after watering the bushes

She grabbed me and hauled me inta the house and brushed the new dirt right off my legs. Then she told me to GO LIE DOWN AND BEHAVE YOURSELF!

So now, here I am. I am captive in the house while Maggie and Buddy are out there romping through the mud. That's okay, though. 'Cause I know that tomorrow it's Maggie's and Buddy's turn to get bathed. And then, with or without stinkum, they'll be captive in the house, too, probly until Monday afternoon. I figure it'll be about that long before we get cabin fever  and start some Horrendous Hooligan Havoc. And then we'll go right back outside to the mud again. 

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

Sleepin' In

This is the way I like to spend rainy mornings.

Sleeping with one eye open

Tell it to the paw



Havin' Mom right where I want her

AAARRROOOOOOOO!    z z z z ....

The Great Rescue Run, Part Four

Mom says this is the next to the last installment of The Great Rescue Run and it is kinda long. Y’owl need to be sure to go potty before ya start reading, okay?

So, the parents settled us all down for the night. Jack and Sissy went to bed in the dog den. Buddy curled up in Dad’s office. Me and Maggie were in the big bedroom with Mom and Dad.

After Mom and Dad chased them around for awhile, the puppies got crated in the guest room. They were used to crates so that wasn’t a problem. But they weren’t used to the guest room or to the rain, the thunder and the lightning that was going on outside.

So they howled. And they howled and they howled and they howled.

Well, natcherly the rest of us had to chime in and teach them what howling is sposed to sound like. Pretty soon there were EIGHT Hooligans AAAROOOING at the top of our lungs! We sounded great! Xceptn I think we might have startled the puppies because after only a few seconds, they stopped singing and they didn’t make a peep the rest of the night.

Mom set the alarm clock for early thirty so she could get up and get us all medicated and fed before time to get the pups ready to go to Florida. We woke up all excited like we usually do and Maggie stopped on her way outside to growl at the door to the guest room. Mom bopped Maggie on her rear end and helped her move on down the hall. I always like it when that happens.

Just so’s you can appreciate the mileage involved in transporting the Grrls, here’s how the whole thing was organized.

Jackson, MS to Hattiesburg, MS to Gulfport, MS to Grand Bay, AL (overnight) to Pensacola, FL, to DeFuniak Springs, FL, to Tallahassee, FL, to Gainesville, FL, to Lakeland, FL. From Lakeland, Purple Grrl had to go about another hundrud miles to get to her new family. All in all, Miss Cindy at Sunshiner Airedales in Florida said she guesstimated it was about an 800 mile trip for the puppies. That’s a lot of stress. But they did fine because all the people who chauffeured them took time to cuddle them and kiss them and talk to them. One lady even rode in the back of her SUV with them while her husband drove.

Here’s a picture of the MS-ALA rescuers and drivers. That’s Miss Virginia on the left, Miss Delia is next to her, Mom is next to Miss Delia, and Miss Diane is next to Mom.

the Rescuers in the Rain!

It had been storming when the Grrls got to our house and it was storming when they left. Thunder and heavy rain was drenching the entire Gulf Coast and there were flash flood warnings from New Orleans to the Atlantic Ocean. But Mom kept on driving (she always only does the legal speed limit anyway) and even though she passed two bad wrecks near Hwy 59 in AL, Mom didn’t have any trouble getting to Pensacola.

When she got there, she met Ms Kathryn and her husband at a Cracker Barrel restaurant. The rainwater in the parking lot was ankle deep. They had to carry each pup separately to Ms Kathryn’s car and of course, everybuddy got completely drenched. The pups were smelling like… well, like wet dogs. Mom kissed each Grrl and wished them long and happy lives. Then she hugged Ms Kathryn and got back in our SUV. And Mom cried most of the way home. It doesn’t take long to get attached to dogs. That’s cause we’re Man and Woman’s Best Friends.

These are pictures of the Grrls trying to evade capture by hoomans and by the camera.

This was pretty much how the entire evening went.



Sunday night, Mom admitted to Dad that she was having separation anxiety. She *needed* to know how things were going and if the pups were okay and where they were and when they would finish their long trip. Late late Sunday night, Ms Cindy emailed all the chauffeurs to let them know that in spite of a long delay outside of Gainesville due to a traffic jam, the pups had arrived safely in Lakeland. Mom cried again, but this time it was from relief.

She let me sleep with her that night. Which is where I should sleep all the time, except that Dad has a different opinion.

But sometimes, Dad has to travel away from home on business.

                        AAARRROOOOOOOO!





Great Rescue Run, Part 3

Before we get started again, Mom says there’s no need for you all to keep jamming my email box with requests for muddy pictures of her and Dad. She says don’t hold your breath because that’s not the kind of image she wants getting’ spread around the internet. I don’t really get that. She was laughing the other night and she acted like she thought it was fun. Oh well.

So… where were we? I can’t remember so I think I’ll tell you next about that Purple collared grrl. She had really long legs (I like that in a grrl) and she was a liddle bigger than the two sisters. And she was fun, like me. She played tag with Mom and Dad. They chased her all over the house, trying to tighten her collar, but she was fast and she can jump higher than they can. I just lay on the sofa and watched the excitement. My head went back and forth: PG would run past, then Dad would run past, then PG would run back by me, then Mom would try to grab PG’s collar, then PG would jump over the ottoman and run away again. Whew! It wore me out but I laughed and laughed.

Purple Grrl

Finully Mom caught hold of that pretty purple collar with one hand and PG’s bottle-brush tail with the other. Dad came over to help. He held PG while Mom tightened the martingale.

What’s a martingale? Oh, it’s a speshul collar that’s not supposed to slip off. Heh heh heh. But PG is an Airedale. There’s never been a collar made that we couldn’t slip out of if we want to. She wanted to. And she did. Then it was run run run run through the house some more, and leaping over chairs while the parents did it all over again. (The camera was in Mom’s purse behind a closed door, sorry.)

Anyways, they gave up on the fancy-dancy martingale and got a harness to put on the Purple Grrl. It was red. She didn’t like it much but she couldn’t get out of it. Then they gave her a rope toy to play with and she had never seen one of those before. She sniffed it and cocked her head at it and put a paw on it so she could find out just what it was made of, and then she put it in her mouth and she ran into Dad’s office with it and lay down and started chewing it. Pink Grrl went right after her and tried to take it away from her, and they started tugging on opposite ends of the rope like they’d been doing it furever. Mom was so P R O U D of them and so happy their rescue experience hadn’t stressed them out too much to play. Mom and Dad took the two grrls out to potty and then brought them back in for some more playtime with the rope.

Mom offered them treats but I think I told you before that they weren’t familiar with treats. They sniffed and licked them but that was about all. Mom says these pups are going to be motivated by toys & games more than treats when they go through obedience training.

Well, those two grrls were busy with the rope and the third liddle grrl, Turquoise, still hadn’t left the guest room. Not because she was locked in there. She just stood at the doorway and whimpered for her sister. The other two would trot down the hall and try to ‘splain to her that it was okay to come out into the house, but she just couldn’t get up the courage to do it. And any time a parent went into the room to talk to her, Turquoise would run into one of the crates and hide. Mom knew Turquoise needed to go potty because she drank a lodda water when the pups first came home. And Mom was worried that Turquoise would strain her bladder by holding it for a long time.

It was sad, watching Turquoise at the door and listening to her whimper.

At last Mom said, well, maybe she will go potty on newspaper. So she put some newspaper down in the hall.

Guess WHAT? Nope. Turquoise didn’t potty on the paper.

Instead, she used it like stepping stones to get to the hall runner rug and then onto the living room rug. She had been afraid of the vinyl tile in our hallway!  None of us had even considered that, and we all felt pretty silly about it.

But really, it makes sense. The pups had been kept in crates most of their 8 months of life and they didn’t know nuthin about house floors. Purple and Pink were bold enough that it didn’t bother them, but Turquoise was more shy and Mom says T is gonna need an understanding, patient hooman to help her adapt to real dogdom.

Her bladder finully did let go inside the house but Mom didn’t say a word about that. She just cleaned it up and pretended it hadn’t happened.

Before bedtime, though, TG was following her sister around the house and she even took a treat from Dad’s hand. WOW.  She wouldn’t come when Mom called her though, she would just hunker down on the floor. Finully Mom got down on the floor with TG and started stroking her on the back. Just for a minute or so, and then she stopped and TG got up and ran away. About thirdy minutes later, Mom did it again.

And you know sumthen? Before the pups were crated for the night, Mom offered TG another treat. TG came over to take it, and she let Mom touch the side of her face evuh so gentle.

It was a good night at Hooligan House.

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

That's Turquoise Grrl on the far left. In the middle is Pink Grrl. And on the right, is Purple Grrl.

The Great RESCUE Run

Our town is about 20 inches short of the amount of rain we usually have by this time of the year. Mom’s flowers are brown, the grass is brown. And it’s been so hot outside (triple digits) that nobuddy wants to play. We only go out long enough to lift our legs and then we come right back inside to the air conditioning. We’re lucky dogs. Mom and Dad rescued all of us and they make sure we are comfortable and safe from bad weather and scary things.

Some dogs aren’t as lucky as we are. Mom and Dad like to help dogs whenever they can and last weekend, they did. A lady called Mom and told her there were 3 Airedale Terrier pups in middle Mississippi that needed to go to forever homes waaaay waaaay down in south Florida. The pups weren't abused but they were neglected. They were living with an irresponsible backyard breeder who Mom said wasn't very interested in the welfare of the puppies. But there were three famblies down in Florida who were jumping up and down and begging to adopt Airedale Terriers. Mom knew she'd have to have help,  because south Florida is a long way from Hooligan House. But she said if some other hooman could get the puppies to Gulfport, Mississippi, then Mom could get them to Pensacola for someone else to help transport them south. (I didn’t know anywhere was more south-er than here, doG, but it must be really really hot down there!)

So on Saturday, Mom and Dad drove over to Gulfport and met Miss Delia and Miss Virginia and Miss Diane who brought the puppies from central Mississippi. And guess what? In the middle of the puppy exchange, the sky began to rain all over everything on the Gulf Coast. There was thunder and there was lightning and there was about 6 inches of rain. Everybuddy got wet, including the puppies. Mom and Dad drove back home through some crazy thunderstorms, and brought the pups into our house to spend the night.

the puppies inspecting their sleeping crates

We weren’t allowed to meet the puppies because Mom wasn’t sure they had all their puppy shots yet. But we sure heard them! We aarrrooooed at them through the door and they aaaroooed back at us and Maggie got mad because there were other dogs walking around in our kitchen and she growled and growled until Mom swatted her on the backside and told her to STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

Those pups didn’t know anything about being dogs. They had never seen a leash, never had a collar on before and – get this! They had never even had a treat before! Mom and Dad spent some time getting them used to treats and letting them play with our toys, and then we all went to bed because Sunday morning was going to come early and Mom was driving them to Florida and the weather was gonna be just turrible.

These are some pictures of the puppies. And I’ll write you more about them and tell you the end of the story when me and Mom get some more computer time. Right now, I feel a game of tug coming on. C’mere, Maggie! That’s my squeaky duck!

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

WRAP ME UP!

Awhile back I mentioned that ever since Hurricane Katrina, some of us Hooligans have been unhappy whenever there is a storm. Mom thinks it’s to do with barometric pressure dropping. But we can also hear lightning waaay before our hoomans do. And we can smell it too. It’s hard to splain in a dlog.

One of Mom and Dad’s friends at church, Miss Nancy, told us that she bought a Thundershirt® for her Lab/Great Dane, Willie Wonka. Willie gets storm anxiety too. Have you ever been around a nervous Great Dane? It’s not a pretty sight.

But Miss Nancy said the Thundershirt® is helping Willie Wonka. So Dad ordered one for me to try out. And would you believe it? The shirt came in the mail today and it was followed by a thunderstorm.

Mom got home with the shirt and wrapped me right up in it. It fits really really snug and puts pressure on points of my body that are supposed to help me relax. I didn’t like it at first. I could hear thunder coming and I was getting antsy and Maggie was jumping around like an idjit and I was panting and panting and trembling and Mom told me to settle down and let my new shirt do its work.

I did. And it seems to be working. We aren’t having a horrific thunderstorm but it’s a noisy one. I am sacked out on the floor between the kitchen and the TV room. Mom has tried to get me to move but I don’t want to get up. I’m just going to lie here and snooze until the thunderstorm goes away.

We’ve been having thunderstorms every day so this shirt is going to get a really really good trial. I’ll let you know how it goes. Right now, I'm feelin' the love.

aaaarrrrroooooooooooooo......

THE Best!

Dear Friends of Hooligan House,

Thank you for voting for us in the best dog blog contest a couple of weeks ago. We didn’t win the contest. We weren’t even among the finalists. It doesn’t bother me but Mom suspects that people were allowed to vote more than once. The rules didn’t say that, but they didn’t not say that, either, if you know what I mean.

So we won’t have $1000.00 to give SouthBark Animal Rescue to help them buy a van. They really really need one because they go all over Alabama to different city dog pounds and save pets that are on death row. Right now, SouthBark has to pay to rent a van every week and Mom says that costs around $900.00 for each transport from beginning to end. That’s because they save dogs that have health or other physical problems as well as pretty dogs. All the dogs go to a vet and get the best care possible before they are adopted out to new families. SouthBark has fundraisers every week and people are generous, but there’s always need for more donations and a new van is top prioriteee.

SouthBark really really needs help. Mom said if any of you reading this want to donate, even a dollar, Puh-leeeeze email  Foster@saveasoutherndog.com and get their mailing address. And thank you again, for believing in us. We love writing our dlog, yes we are calling it a "dlog" now 'cuz it's a DOG LOG. And you guys who keep reading us are the best prize we could evah get!

Oh, and that part I started with, about us losing

the best dog blog contest?

In MY opinion, the Hooligan who has the toy 

at the end of the game is the winner.

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

HOW I SPENT THE FOURTH OF JULY

I covered my face when the fireworks started.

Mom gave me a special treat she got from the veterinarian.

Mom put me in her bed.

I passed out.

 zzzzzzzzz...

It Is What It Is!

Maggie loves Dad more than anybody else in the world. She gets up in his lap and covers his face with licks. She licks his hands. And his toes. Maggie gives Dad so many kisses that Mom makes him wash his face with soap before he goes to bed.

When Dad lies down on the sofa to watch tv or to take a nap, Maggie lets him sleep for a liddle while then she goes running past him and throws her tongue over his face just so he’ll know she’s close by. Dad has a special pillow that he uses when he lies down on the sofa. Maggie loves that pillow, too.

Sometimes Dad has to go on trips oudda town and when he’s gone, Maggie really really misses him. She misses him so much that as soon as Mom’s back is turned, Mag sneaks into the tv room and stalks the sofa. When she’s absolutely pawsitively sure Mom isn’t looking, Maggie grabs Dad’s pillow and pulls it to the floor. That pillow is Maggie’s security blankey when Dad is away from home. Mom says she can’t bring herself to throw the sofa pillow away, but she can’t understand how Dad can bring himself to put his head back on it when he takes his naps, either. I know the answer.

It’s like I told ya before. We Hooligans Rule da House!

AAARRROOOOOOOO!

HOOLIGAN HOUSE RULES

EVERYTHING IN THIS HOUSE

BELONGS TO THE DOGS:

The couch belongs to the dogs.

The beds belong to the dogs.

The dishes in the dishwasher belong to the dogs.

The toys in the Christmas stash in Dad’s office closet belong to the dogs.

The stuff in Dad’s trashcan belongs to the dogs.

Everything that our nose can touch belongs to the dogs.

Mom’s purse belongs to the dogs.

The stuff in Mom’s purse belongs to the dogs.

The Grandkids belong to the dogs.

Mom and Dad belong to the dogs.

Dad’s paycheck belongs to the dogs.

Any Questions?

I didn’t think so.

AAARRROOOOOOOO!



And the Nominees are...

Would you consider nominating Duke's Blog as the Best Dog Blog for 2011? The top 4 nominees in each catagory will advance to the finals on June 29th. The winner will receive a monetary donation to their favorite animal shelter!

Just go to: http://dogtime.com/petties   and nominate http://howlinghooligan.blogspot.com/

How to Nominate The Howling Hooligan

for: WHY SHOULD THIS BLOG WIN?

(just tell them why in 100 characters or less)

Then, hit the ENTER button



YOUR INFORMATION

* Name  

* Email  

* Confirm Email  

NOMINEE INFORMATION

* Name  

* Nominee URL  

Nominee Email  

for the “BEST IN” Category: check the box next to BEST DOG BLOG

Thanks!

AAARRROOOOOOOO!