Mine, mine, MINE

I'm really beginning to wonder just how long it will take for my cousin Salty to realize that all toys, food, beds and people at both his and my house are mine. I had this crafty idea yesterday when we were over visting my Grandma's house to pee on his stuff, so he'd know for sure-but Mom gave me the stink-eye. Then later, when he was eyeing the cookies Mom was making, I growled at him good and puffed my chest out. No good, he still hung around. Later on, when there was no good food left to guard, I took all his toys and put them in a big pile near ME so he could see they had become MINE. He still tried to get one, so I showed off my chompers as a warning. When is this guy gonna catch on?! Everyone else knows whatever I come upon is mine, right?!

I'm stealthy

As my loyal followers (Hi Renee) may notice, I've taken a short hiatus from my blog. What can I say-a happenin' guy like me has livin' to do! In any case, I've been spending a good deal of my time lately mastering the art of stealth. Case in point-check out this most excellent prize I stole from a little midget (who I suspect was a cleverly disguised ninja) just yesterday--

Balls are for eating

Hey Dawgs-did you know that balls are good for eating? It's true! All the time I've been chasing these darn things and bringing them back when I could have been eating them! That yellow one over there was a little earthy for my pallet but this shiny red one was sweet and juicy. Who knew!

He works hard for the kibble

They say nothing is free, but I figured that, in all my splendor and cuteness, I was immune. It seems I was wrong!

Parade Charade

This weekend Mom & Dad took me to what they claimed was a "Rod Run" in Long Beach. All these old dudes in old cars lined up along the road and drove back and forth while people clapped and shouted at them. Even though Dad has a new car, he hopped in with the conga line and we drove down the street too. But people didn't look at his car. They looked at me instead. They started yelling "Awe, look at that frenchie!" and "hey, that's a good lookin' dog." Before I knew it, the whole deal turned in to a Pup Parade, with people clamoring to see ME and cheering for ME. It seems my celebrity is contageous and now reaches all the way to the ocean and back!

Jeez Louise-SO sensitive

Apparently word got out about my blog posting from Wednesday, about my brother Boo. Seems he got his feelers real hurt and his stubby nose out of joint about the whole thing and so now he won't play with me, won't share his bones with me and generally gives me the stink-eye 24/7.
Mom said I needed to appeal to his "sensitive side" (whatever that means!) and then, just when I was making my very incognito apology, she snapped this pic. How emberassing!

The most annoying frenchie I know

Paws down, without a doubt, my little brother Boo is the most annoying frenchie I know. Whenever I have a cool toy, he wants it. Whenever he has a toy, it is cool and I must have it. Yet he won't give it to me!

Whenever I do anything excellent, Boo is trying to copy me. SO ANNOYING.

Sometimes I just have to take him down, WWF (Wacked out, Wild Frenchie) Style!

(picture, case in point).

The grass is ALWAYS greener

Yesterday we went blackberry picking. Mom and Dad said all the best berries were on the highest branches, where they couldn't reach. Those berries looked the same as all the others to me. Why would anyone want to get stuck with all those nasty thorns, just to get a ruddy berry anyway?
When we got home, Mom said we were so good that we could chew on bones for a while (good thing she didn't see me eat that mystery goo while they were picking). She SAID the bone she gave me was the best but as I watched my brother and sister chaw away on their bones, I could tell they'd been given far superior stock, while my good-for-nothing bone was practically miniscule. Man, why do I always get the short end of the stick (err...bone)!?!

They work me like a dog around here....

Get this-I've only got FOUR beds here at work. And I think this ratty toy box has a dozen toys at best. And whenever Mom takes me out to empty the recycling, she NEVER lets me eat any of the stinky things I find along the way.

People are CONSTANTLY wanting to pet and oogle me and after we've been here for a few hours and I'm ready to go home and play, Mom makes me STAY! And sometimes even SIT!

Whoa is me. They work me like a dog around here. Time to take a nap.

Shameful

While on our walk by the lake Mom caught me sniffing the butt of a bronze Cocker Spaniel statue. She said it was "shameful." I say HEY-IT'S WORTH A TRY!

Is it hot in here, or is it just ME?

You could fry sausages on my tummy (mmm...that sounds kinda good). You could melt cheese on my tounge (also, not a bad idea). You could grill burgers on my back (is anyone else getting hungry?). THAT'S how hot I am right now! Will somebody call the big guy upstairs and tell him to kick on the AC!

Lumpy, Bumpy, Miserable me

Yeah, I'm a little sun bear. I like to lay out, prop myself up and soak up the rays. But come on guys, this is ridculous! It's serious pant-time here with these near-90-degree temps! I can't step out to piddle on my favorite bush without panting like a bulldog in heat! And now because of this surface-of-the-sun temperature, I'm covered in funky little lumps. I can't even go outside without a diguise, for fear one of my fans might see me!!

Closing Time

As my work day draws to an end I find myself asking, what did I accomplish today? Sure, I brightened people's days with my effervescent personality and adorable mug. But is that enough? HECK YEAH it is! I'm ready to head home, flip on some 'Dog Whisperer' and hit the kibble HARD!

Is it rawhide or is it Tully?

It's tough and gruff but with a bit of effort, it becomes pretty soft.

It's kinda smelly and even smellier when it's wet.

You wouldn't want to swallow it or you might urp it up.

It's sometimes sticky and covered in hair.

Is it rawhide or is it Tully?

You be the judge!

King o' the park

What do you get whem you add ME to a off-leash dog park filled with 30 plus frenchies? That's right . . . you get throngs of new admirers . . . gushing girlies and groveling guys.

It was pretty epic on Saturday, to see all my homies at the Wallace Dog Park Frenchie Meetup. I'd say I ruled the roost, but you already know that. And if anybody says I ran like a little girl (on steroids) when a beastly, oversized brindle frenchie started chasing me, DON'T BELIEVE IT FOR A SECOND!

Frenchiemonium

I'm headed to a Frenchie meetup in Portland tomorrow. 30 plus frenchies in one spot. What could possibly go wrong?!

Boo hoo

No one is on campus today. Boo hoo. No pretty girls to bat eyelashes at me. Boo hoo. No rowdy dudes to yell "hey, that's a tough lookin' bulldog!" as I waddle past. Boo hoo. And worst of all, none of my dedicated disciples are here to bask in my adorableness and call out “TULLY WE LOVE YOU!” as I strut the pathways of LCC. What a sad, sad day indeed.

Zzzzzzzzzzzz

Still sleepin' while Mom does all the work. Things are as they should be.

Could it be?

While out on deliveries a minute or two ago (or as I like to call them, "fan forays"), one of the campus directors suggested I ought to be Lower Columbia College's new mascot...and that we even ought to change our name from the Red Devils, to the Brown Frenchies. Fab idea if I do say so myself!

Toss dem' cookies

Mom's always yelling at me, "don't eat that!", "drop it!", "leave it!" Now I know why. While we were walking the lake this morning I tottled off down by the water when her back was turned and gobbled up something DELICIOUS. On the way back to the Print Shop I started feelin' a little funky. By the time we got inside, I was full-on pukey. That tasty blob at the lake didn't look quite as good when it came back up!