Letter to my Mommy — “No More Street Life”

Hey, y’all!!! I’m back! Now, I could apologize for not having written in so long but I’m not. Because I’m not sorry. I’ve been chilling, man. Living life in a brand new big city and going on daily walks with my personal assistant (although my Mommy says it’s my “dog walker”). Hey, potato…po-tah-to.  Regardless of all that, I’m just saying that you ain’t gettin’ an apology from me because I’m too big time for that now. Shoot, I won’t even do it for the Vine.

But, I am still here to help out my fellow dog.  To wit…my Mommy and I were walking down the street and I noticed a homeless man (not unusual)…but he had a dog.  WHAT?  And Moses the Mutt was just sitting there like that is where he belonged.  Um, buddy?  Can I call you Eminem (like M&M…short for Moses the Mutt <—– see what I did there?)?  Why are you doing this?  Don’t you know there is a law that anyone that has a dog is supposed to give all their money to their care and well-being?  If he has $3, that entire amount goes to treats and toys…he can survive off of big gulps of air.  I’m pretty sure I’m right.  My Mommy is a lawyer which makes me one by default and I am qualified to practice in the jurisdiction of Common Sense.  Please have a long talk with your Daddy and tell him to start making better decisions.  Then, go find someplace to live until he gets back on his feet.  It’s hot in these streets.

To make 100% sure that this doesn’t happen to me, I figured I’ll just write a letter for my Mommy to read if she somehow becomes destitute.

Dear Mommy,

Hey…so, looks like you are going thru some hard times.  That sucks.  I noticed that my personal assistant is no longer taking my calls.  She said something about not being paid?  Listen, I know you are stressed out but this just got real.  I need my walks and rubs.  If you lose our place to live, I’m going to go live with Big Mama and Big Daddy.  I’m pretty sure they hate those names but it’s all I have right now.  Can’t take that away from me too.  I’m confident they will take me in because they know I left life on the streets 8 years ago and now that I am in my senior years, I’m living my life like it’s golden.  Which means you need to be able to afford treats and toys.  If you need to pawn something, look at your jewelry box.  Leave Mr. Cuddles alone.

Once you get your life back on track and have demonstrated financial solvency for at least 6 months, I will come back and live with you.  Until then, you can find me at Grammy’s…where bills are paid on time.  They will probably want to talk to you about making better decisions and possibly getting a job at Dairy Queen or the cleaners until you have an 8 month emergency fund created.  Listen to them.  They know what they are talking about.  How do I know this?  Because they aren’t living in the streets.  Help us, help you.

All the best,

Riley

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I’m Too Sexy for this Diet

Dear Riley,
During a recent visit to hell aka “the vet”, my quack of a doctor told my parents that I need to lose 11 pounds. Her advice? Although I weigh 50 pounds, they should feed me like I weigh 35. Which they took to heart and ended up buying some sort of diet dog food & rationing it out like my name is Dudley Dursley. I can’t sleep, I’m always hungry and I’ve become quite unpleasant. How can I make this abuse stop? Help me, Riley!

From,
Big Sexy in Peachtree City

Dear Big Sexy,
First thing you should know is that going to the vet is a scam. Always ask to see their certified degrees and don’t be afraid to call up that supposed “institution of learning” to verify their credentials. Go online to see the courses they offer. Inevitably, you will find one titled “Doggy Got Back 101”. It’s their go-to line whenever a pet visits them. They give that advice out like candy…but it’s not sweet. It’s very sour.

Second, feeding you like you weigh 35 pounds?? Seriously? Stop the madness!! Please don’t become dogorexic behind this. You need to eat! Don’t let Doggie Houser, Fake MD tell you that you need to have a body like those dogs in Hollywood. Those pictures are Photoshopped!!  I have it on good authority that the Taco Bell dog wears Spanx.  Curves are where it’s at!  Embrace it!  Listen to Adele and let that soothe your nerves.

Third, call PETA…they can help you.  Clearly this is unethical treatment.  For good measure, call DFCS (Department of Family & Children Services) too. 

Fourth, act out. I guarantee that a couple of days of you showing out because you are hungry will end this farce. Parents don’t like having to deal with extended foolishness. Make sure you act a fool during their favorite tv programs. Trust me…works every time. If my Mom does something I don’t like, I wait until Scandal is on then start running around and barking…maybe pee next to the speakers or sit on the remote to change the channel right when Fitz & Olivia start getting it on.  Decide on how big a statement you want to make. I always advise “go big or go home!” It’s up to you. But I will tell you this…I’m eating pretty good these days.

Holla,
Riley

A Doggone Shame

Recently, I was watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills with my Mom and something about that dog, Gigi, just gives me a headache.  I don’t know if it’s the bedazzled onesies he wears…the fact that he drinks wine out of a goblet…or that he always has an attitude when the camera is focused on him (and that may be because he is drunk and wearing a Liberace-inspired “outfit”, who knows?).  What I do know is this…Gigi is dangerous.  He is the poster dog of Doggy Couture.  And I am fully against that.  It’s a slippery slope from doggy outfits to doggy costumes for parties.  Don’t believe me?  Look at these poor suckers.

This is clever…but look at his face. He looks beaten down by life.

Seriously? I know he gets beat up in doggy daycare behind this. CH-CH-CH-CHIA!

I only have one comment on this…AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Don’t be a statistic, my canine friends.

Squirrelpocalypse

I knew this day would come. When those mangy, grubby nut-fiends would finally make their move to take over my yard. Sure, I’d seen them outside jumping from limb to limb and scrambling up trees looking like they just stole something…and I promptly barked out, “YOU BETTA NEVA LET ME SEE YOU ON MY PROPERTY AGAIN OR IT IS ON LIKE DONKEY KONG AND I DON’T EVEN OWN A COLECOVISION SO IT’S REALLY REAL, SON!”

I wasn’t too worried about them because they usually stayed far enough away that I could only see their lice-infested bushy tails. Then, I went on what my Mom likes to call a “staycation” at the kennel (while she flew off to Cancun…seriously???). A week was apparently long enough for them to implement their attack plan because they were everywhere when I came back!

It took me by surprise as it happened so suddenly. I’m passing by the patio door on my way to my “lab” (i.e. turning over the trash to eat more delicious delights)…when I see it. Some huge fur covered squirrels with big teeth. And they looked to be the size of Ewoks! How many nuts have they been eating? Maybe they are the ones that need an intervention!

squirrel that was on my patio

I felt so disrespected! So, I had to pull out the Ike Turner and let them know I’d be fining them $5 if they didn’t get off my property. But they still taunted me with those big eyes & teeth…sitting directly on the lawn furniture eating nuts! What??? You want some sweet tea too? WHY ARE YOU HERE??? GET OUT!!!

They just looked at me and gave me a slow blink. I knew what I had to do…go Godfather. That’s right. The horsehead was effective with that movie producer and I just knew that something similar would freak those uppity squirrels out. So, I went and got my chew toys test dummies to show them what would happen if that patio door was ever opened…and then I mouthed the word “SQUIRRELPOCALYPSE” before blacking out in a fit of rage.

Silence of the Lamb Chew Toys

Intervention

I’m emotionally exhausted…what you see on A&E’s “Intervention” is TRUE TO LIFE! My Mom just sat me down and had some sort of talk with me about how it is unreasonable that I go thru an entire bag of treats during a week at the kennel. I expected her to pull out a letter and start reading to me. I went thru the following steps trying to process what was happening:

ANGER

I ONLY HAD A COUPLE OF TREATS! Who keeps track of how many treats are eaten in a day? I’m not some sort of treat counter or mathematician. That’s not my job. I was just trying to survive the mean streets of Barking Hound Village. I don’t care that it says “luxury boarding”…you don’t know how it really is. What? There are webcams where you can watch me? Oh. Nevermind.

DENIAL

Well, if you were watching the webcam ALL THE TIME, then you saw that Peanut stole a bunch of treats! That’s right. He was making it rain Snausages! I barely had any treats to eat! I’m treat deficient! I might even need an IV full of liquid treats. So go read your letter to him cuz the paw ain’t listening, honey.

BARGAINING

She seemed to be pretty intent on this intervention thing so I had to try another tactic. I threw out a phrase I hear her say to her own mother when the topic of weight gain is approached, “I AM AN EMOTIONAL EATER!!” Okay, listen…maybe I do eat more than I should but it’s only because I felt my sugar getting low and I didn’t want to pass out as I was chasing Peanut around the yard trying to get back the treats he stole. Come on…don’t you love me? (insert sad face)

GUILT

Oh, you are thinking that I felt guilt? No, sir/ma’am. This stage is for inflicting guilt on someone else. This is what you have to do when all else fails…this baby works every time. YOU ABANDONED ME TO GO ON VACATION!!!!

Make sure you really play it up…the sadder you look, the more treats you will get to make up for the “abandonment”

I’m eating treats as I type this…told ya it would work. She is such a sucker.

The Garbage Gourmet

source (funnyfidos.com)

I’m thinking about starting my own food line called “The Garbage Gourmet”.  It will be geared towards all of my canine culinary aficionados…you know, the dogs that have a taste for the finer things.  

As with any successful company, you have to test & quality check your product before going to market.  Clearly, my unwitting investor (aka, my Mom) doesn’t realize this is a critical step on the road to success.  Why does she thwart my creativity? 

Who cares if there is trash all over the floor?   Where do you think the ingredients come from?  China?  Maybe if she were to pay more attention to the allowed foods on her diet, she wouldn’t have time to notice my “lab” of food strewn about the kitchen floor.  Delicious day old chicken, a steak bone…it’s like I’ve died and gone to heaven!  Wait…did you just say “ewww?”  Clearly, your taste buds are deficient.  Any dog will attest that finding a t-bone in the trash is fine dining.  We know about fine dining…why do you think we lick ourselves?  BECAUSE WE TASTE LIKE CHICKEN.  Sheesh.

Instead of fussing at me for getting in the garbage (which really is kind of like my very own amazon.com), she should be encouraging me while I find the right ingredients for Riley’s Remoulade sauce!  That could make her a bundle!  See?  I’m not selfish.  I look out for my people.

So…if I can continue to have access to the un-freshest ingredients around, I should be able to have my line of haute Garbage Gourmet food on the market by the summer.  Start saving your money…because you are going to want this for your beloved pet.  If you don’t buy it, then you don’t love your dog.  Just sayin’…buy my stuff.

Dog Scouts

Badges? Really? (source: Dog Scouts website)

So, this lady (that’s what I call my Mom when she gets “extra”) has just read an article about an organization called Dog Scouts. Sigh…more crap for me to do. It’s like she has blocked out how I got kicked out of obedience training class.

Look at those poor suckers. Sad thing is they look like they like it!!! Earning badges as a reward for being obedient? What fool does that??? Clearly they have been brainwashed…I bet they make them drink special water (DON’T DRINK THE KOOL-AID FELLAS!!). Just like the Westminster cult (you know the one…they parade their fanaticism around on tv every year in some sort of dog pageant). This Dog Scouts thing seems eerily close to what that David Koresh guy was about. I’m just sayin’.

Since I don’t like taking directions or wearing bandanas, I know this ain’t gonna work for me. Maybe she took a sip out of that hallucinogenic dog bowl if she thinks I’m about to walk up in there & play nice. I’m banned from 3 dog parks!!! I have a reputation to protect. Nobody is scared of a scout!!!

Sigh…if you don’t hear from me in a few days, call the FBI.

Christmas Photo? Nope

Apparently, it’s Christmas card time which means I have to be subjected to the camera…again.  Seriously.  Like I’m Gisele or something.  Here’s a tidbit about me…I buck the system.  A non-conformist.  You say left…I go right.  The photographer tries all kinds of tricks to make me look like a sap.  I saw Peanut during his photo shoot.  Dude, really?  This is not going to be a calendar.  You want a picture of me?  Then you are going to get Real Riley.  So when I was dropped off for photos at daycare last week, my Mom didn’t have a clue what my pictures would look like until today.  I’m sure she clicked thru the other dogs’ photos and thought “how cute!”  Then she got to mine.  Checkmate.

Merry freaking Christmas, from Riley

PTBWD (Post Traumatic Boot Wearing Disorder)

Embarrassing on so many levels

Okay…what is this?  What self-respecting dog wears these?  Clearly this puppy is being taken advantage of.  Look into his eyes?  He has that wild-eyed look like he’s on the hunt for another hit of Beggin’ Strips.  Where are the “puppy rights” advocates?  Has America learned nothing from the downward spirals of Spuds MacKenzie (strung out on Bud Light), Scooby Doo (high as a kite with his dealer Shaggy) and Baxter (who, after reaching international fame in the movie Anchorman, started wearing Sex Panther cologne and taking “mood enhancers”)?  Apparently, 60% of the time, it works every time.

Parents…this is a plea.  We don’t like this stuff.  You are wasting your money.  Money that can be used to buy us more treats, gourmet dog food, toys and days at doggie daycare.  You need to learn to prioritize.

Let me life coach you for a minute and offer you a personal testimony.  I’m a recovering “boot wearer”…my grandfather bought a pair for my uncle last Christmas…who promptly re-gifted to me.  Traumatic doesn’t begin to describe what happened.  The phrases “keep his paws clean from snow” and “less mud tracked in” were thrown around and next thing I know, I’ve been hog-tied and boots were strapped on me.  I still suffer night terrors.

Uncle Payton modeling the Winter 2011 Dog Boot Collection with major attitude. You can almost hear him say “Seriously? SERIOUSLY??? WHYYYY????”

Just because you like to wear Timbs doesn’t mean I need to wear their doggy-equivalent, Pimbs.  For the love of God, please stop!  Don’t let your dog suffer from PTBWD. 

My fellow Dog Americans, if you are reading this, you have been warned.  Winter is coming.  You’ve been hearing whispered conversations on the phone with phrases like, “I cannot wait for boot season!”  She’s not only talking about her boots…BUT YOURS TOO!  SAVE YOURSELF WHILE YOU CAN!  Call Snoopy and ask him to file some sort of injunction since he seems to be a jack of all trades.  In the meantime, start doing yoga during the day while she is at work.  A little downward dog will help limber up those muscles you’ll need to maneuver around the furniture to escape “DUggs”.  Don’t be a statistic.  Pray to Lassie that it’s enough.

Reasonable Doubt

Dear Riley,

Last night, my Mom came home from work and started freaking out & screaming.  At first, I thought she was drunk but realized that she was home too early to have been at happy hour.  All I kept hearing was “BAD GIRL!!!  WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?”  Then, I focus on what she’s screaming about:

Exhibit #1…a classic “who dunnit?”

She thinks I did it.  Didn’t even ASK ME.  No benefit of the doubt.  No “innocent until proven guilty.”  I feel like I’m being animally profiled.  Just because the trash can is on its side and its contents are strewn about…all fingers point to me.  I’m writing you this letter from jail (i.e. my crate where I’m in time out).  How do I acquit myself of these heinous charges? 

~Pleading For Paw Justice

_______________________________________________________

Dear Paw Justice,

This is a classic case of animal profiling and I think I can help get you released from the Crate Clink.  You need to create reasonable doubt.  That’s all.  And, it is so very easy.

Have a list of other possible suspects. 

1.  Does your mom use a maid service?  If so, write down “Betty from Molly Maids” with an asterisk explaining the time she didn’t tip Betty last Christmas because she spent all her money on some complicated eggnog recipe from Pinterest.

2.  Use the phrase, “Remember Bobby?” (or whatever name is appropriate).  Suggest that maybe the random man she let spend the night with her broke in the house.  Trust me…there is always some random man from the past.  Use that shame to your advantage.  How can she judge you now?

3.  Fugue State.  Suggest that maybe SHE knocked over the trash can in a sugar/alcohol-induced fugue state.  Was she eating a lot of cookies and crying about Bobby the night before?  Are there any wine bottles laying beside the trash can?  If so, use the following phrase, “if the empty wine bottle/cookie bag fits, you must acquit.”

Guilt

Turn those big eyes on her and look like she cut your heart out with those unfounded allegations.  She won’t look at you?  Start howling spirituals and pick your dog bowl up with your teeth and run it across the bars that keep you isolated from the sweet freedom you deserve.  If she has wireless, start an online petition with MoveOn.org.

If all that fails, wait until later that evening when she is sleeping and go pee on her coat.  It will be dry by morning and she won’t notice she smells like pee until she is at work.  Justice is served.

Riley aka Dr. Justice