Stupid TV Commercial # 43

We have another Easter entry in our stupid TV commercial category.  We have already commented on the fact that rabbits do not make chicken noises.  Well it appears that another confectionary CEO does not understand rabbit biology.  The good folks at Reese's put out an ad where a chocolate rabbit (which isn't even ALIVE) and a jar of peanut butter (which isn't even the FACSIMILE OF A LIVING CREATURE) 'get it on' to create the offspring of their sugary union - a chocolate egg.  A CHOCOLATE EGG.  Neither of those two 'parents' have anything to do with eggs.  What is the matter with commercials these days?

Stupid TV Commercial # 41

So it is nearly Easter.  That is the holiday where a magical rabbit brings people chocolate and other candies, and hides it in the house in a basket.  Somehow this is related to religion.  It also has to do with Mardi Gras, which Layla sort of explained in another post.  We are not religious animals so the importance of these things are lost on us.  What I want to know is whether there is a giant rabbit running around my home or not.  I have seen regular rabbits in the yard before and heard the dogs talk about chasing them.  If they are anything like squirrels they are regular little punks, sitting in my window and gnawing on their stupid squirrel teeth.  They are just lucky there is a thick pane of glass between us, and that I am not an outside cat!

Anyway - Easter has this TV commercial called the 'Cadbury Easter Bunny'.  I don't know much about bunnies but I don't think they make the kind of noises the Cadbury bunny makes.  Well in this week's stupid commercial, they are having tryouts for a new bunny.  Notice the first animal is a pig - good luck pal.  The next two are a lion and a regular cat.  Neither of those two animals would be caught dead trying to be a bunny.  We would rather eat the bunny together after an invigorating chase scene where we both pounced on it together, and then high-fived each other after the kill.  We most certainly would not make odd noises while wearing bunny ears.  Clearly a case of animal abuse here.

The best place to sleep

As a hound, you have several options on where you choose to sleep. Sometimes you have to make the best of a non-ideal situation. While car rides are a lot of fun, the long ones that tend to require nap time usually involve lots of luggage. This does not make for a comfortable hound opportunity, but you can sometimes take advantage of properly placed luggage.

Laptop bags have nothing to do with laps as far as I can tell

The bed is a good place to nap, but usually you have to compete with a few other hounds for a good spot. Sometimes this is nice, especially on cold nights when you need to be warm, but other times it is just a bit too crowded. Now if you are a mighty hound like me you can just shove them out of the way, but if you are a feather duster like Rosco you are out of luck.

Three is a crowd

But the truly best place to sleep is next to mama. Daddy is OK but he is not as cuddly as mama, and he gets all twitchy when he starts to fall asleep. Sometimes I wonder if he is dreaming about bunnies or squirrels like I sometimes do. But it is annoying to be in a restful hound sleep and get jerked awake by him. Mama just sleeps soundly, like us hounds.

Yes, this is the best place to sleep

Famous Basset Hound Friday # 30

While I write this blog daddy is watching a very stupid movie called MegaPiranha. In it these giant fish are eating everyone except the main actors (who are terrible by the way). Right now the actor is in a car chase in something called a Kia. It's like a car ride but with squealing tires and Spanish guys. He likes movies like these. They are on a TV station called SyFy. Anyway...

This week's Famous Basset Hound is another blogging basset. Her name is Molly! Molly likes our blog and she recently pointed out that she became famous! So that qualifies her to be a Famous Basset Hound!

Molly's full name is Molly McFreckles. She writes a blog called Molly McFreckles' World where she talks about life with her brother Winston and her mommy and daddy. Just like us they have exciting basset adventures that are occasionally fraught with perils such as baths and vet visits.

Molly (right) and Winston (left)... I think

Molly also has something called Addison's Disease - it means she has to take medicine and go see the vet from time to time. We wish her well on that. But she also has a neighbor that lets her play in her yard, and there are baby bunnies there!

Baby bunnies! I wish I could visit her!

Anyway Molly is our newest famous hound!

Rosco P. Puppyman - HOSA Dog

In a search across the interwebs the other day, I came across an organization called OSHA. Apparently this is a human organization devoted to workplace safety. After thoroughly reading their website, I decided that we needed a form of this in our home.

Hence I have developed my own workplace safety organization, with a few key improvements. Mine is called the Hound Occupational Safety Administration (HOSA). Adding the word "hound" has been proven by hound scientists to dramatically improve whatever thing you are trying to do.

I quickly decided that the most dangerous place in my house is the kitchen. Mama spends lots of time here (when she's home) and I felt I needed to do my duty to keep her safe. I placed myself in a key location in the kitchen, a couple inches from Mama's feet, and began my safety vigil. But before I did I made sure to have what every hound safety administrator needs: a cool costume.

Here is my cool costume.

At first the time passed slowly and I felt myself becoming very sleepy. I decided using my keen senses of hearing and smell, I could still monitor for safety hazards while taking a nap.

These days you have to multitask.

I was dreaming about bunnies when I heard it! *PLOP* The sirens were going off on red alert as I scrambled to keep Mama safe. I dashed to the scene of the problem, quickly gobbling up the safety hazard. Now keep in mind that to be a true HOSA hound dog, one must eat anything that hits the floor, even broccoli (which my sisters hate). It's a tough job but I am just the hound for the challenge. Could you imagine the dangers a piece of uneaten food could pose to Mama? She could slip and fall and hurt herself so badly she could no longer give belly rubs!

Now as all safety crusaders know, our work often goes unnoticed and unappreciated. I sacrifice many hours of my time keeping my family safe in the kitchen. What may you ask do I get in return? Well in this household, I get my tail stepped on, I get booted in the butt and told to move, and sometimes even gated out of the kitchen. Yesterday, the newest insult was Mama banishing me from the kitchen after "saving" her from some treacherous zucchini that fell on the floor. I rushed over to do my duty, quickly cleaning up the hazard, only to be rewarded by being chased out of the kitchen because Mama stepped in the puddle of slobber I left behind. I tried to explain that Daddy has yet to buy me a wet floor sign so that I can properly address the issue. However this under appreciation for my job will not keep me from my duties!

Well that's enough of my safety report for now. I must hurry back to the kitchen because Mama is cooking again and I heard something hit the floor.

Rosco P. Puppyman, HOSA dog to the rescue!

These walks will be the death of me

So as you may recall I was recently told by some quack veterinarian that I needed to lose weight because I am too fat. Well, I happen to think that Czechoslovakian vets are not the foremost authority on beautiful voluptuous basset hound ladies, but mom and dad have taken her words to heart and are making us all exercise.

By going on walks. Now normally walks are great fun - you can stroll around town at your leisure, sniff all the interesting smells, terrorize geese and squirrels and bunnies, work on your basset tan, pick up scraps of goodies off the ground (when your slave-driving human isn't yanking on your leash), get lovins' from people who walk by, and fraternize with the dogs in the neighborhood.

But these new walks are terrible. We live in Missouri, which evidently had some mountains installed since I learned my basset geography, because our walks are less about basset enjoyment and more about basset exhaustion. Up and down hills, no getting to smell the neighbor's yard, no playing with other puppies in the area (everyone has dogs with fences and they are all barky and mean-sounding), the dead of summer heat, and conflicting human commands ('keep walking' vs. 'quit pulling - make up your MINDS).

But mom is relentless. The other day she practically dragged me home. I wish they would take us to the dog park so I could snooze in the sun and play with some other dogs at my own leisure, instead of being walked until my stumpy feet are sore. And not getting to stop and smell things is just cruel - a waste of a perfectly good hound nose. Of course sometimes the walks end with a good treat (we got Frosty Paws yesterday), but other times we only get to come in and run up a flight of stairs to get to our water. Stupid split-level house.

Here is a pictorial example of how to treat your basset hound, humans.

The right way - look at how happy the person and the hound both are

The wrong way - this hound is on the brink of death!

Stupid TV Commercial Sunday # 16

This week's stupid commercial has to do with Easter. Easter is a day where we celebrate with stories about bunnies and eggs and baskets. However, this commercial makes light of cats.

No way would you catch me (or any self-respecting cat) wearing a stupid bunny costume or saying 'bock bock'. Even the Lion, King of the Cats, looks dumb. There were probably tranquilizers involved. I noticed that dogs got out of having to be in this commercial.

Stupid TV commercial.

My first anniversary

Some of my hound friends call it their 'gotcha' day. It's the day that us rescue hounds were brought to our forever homes. A forever home is the home that we stay at forever, so we don't have to live in a rescue facility anymore. Honestly, I have to teach you people everything!

I wasn't always the happy, satisfied hound girl I am today. Once upon a time I was owned by someone else, and they didn't have time to care for me, and they left me in a yard all day long. Then when they came home I only got to sleep in the kitchen at night. Then they had a baby and discovered it was allergic to me (how this was my fault is beyond me, it sounds like this kid is going to have a rough life), so they decided they didn't want me anymore. I was pretty sad.

But then my forever home came and found me. So today is my 'gotcha' day! One year ago today I was rescued from The Noah Project in Muskegon, Michigan. Mom and dad came to visit me with Rosco at the facility, and I was such a happy girl once I felt comfortable around them. Dad threw me a ball and Rosco was mostly shy.

I was also really interested in kittens at that time (I still am). There were some kittens at The Noah Project and I was barking at them to tell them not to worry, someone would adopt them!

Looking back at those old pictures brings back some memories! I was really skinny and underfed and sad and lonely - but once I got to my forever home they filled me in to my current beautiful weight. I also got to sleep on some soft beds, which took a little getting used to at first.

The couch was the right place for me, with my mom. I also got to sleep in the bed with mom that night (Rosco and dad slept on the floor, to let me get used to my new home).

The next day they had Easter, and we were forced to wear these silly bunny helmets. I was beginning to have second thoughts at that point - we were at grandma's house and all the new dogs were laughing at me - but they also gave us Easter treats and only made me wear the dumb things for a little while. Still, what a way to welcome a new hound girl to her forever home!

But in the end this was the right place for me. I have a brother and sister, and my mom and dad love me and give me all the attention and foodstuffs that I deserve. I don't have to sleep outside anymore (although I will say I do like to lay on the deck in the warm sun), and I am treated like the princess I really am. Happy gotcha day!

Stupid TV Commercial Sunday #9

This week's stupid TV commercial comes to us from Traveler's Insurance. Mom and dad inform me that they have previously provided our renter's insurance, and that if our stuff was ever stolen, damaged, or lost in a fire or something, that they would be the ones to write the check to go out and buy new cat condos and water dishes and blankets to nap on. I must say we never had to use their services, and so I feel no regret at making fun of their dumb advertising attempt.

First of all, the idea that rabbits laugh like this is kind of dumb. They sound like Smurfs. Second, I'm pretty sure that some of the nature shows we watch on TV inform us that the dangerous part of the rattlesnake is, in fact, NOT the tail. The fangs are where the venom comes from - if I were this snake I would be sinking those babies into all the rabbits that were paralyzed with laughter and having a rabbit feast. Instead, Mr. Baby-Rattle-Instead-Of-A-Tail rattlesnake hides in his coils in shame. Probably not a realistic sequence of events. Where would a rattlesnake even get the baby rattle to begin with?

Famous Basset Hound Friday #8

My mom just got home and let me tell you, it was a howl-a-thon! Whenever she comes home we jump up on the couch to watch and make sure she makes it safely from the driveway to the front door (it can be dangerous). Then we go charging down the stairs to let her know how much we still love her by jumping on her. We really try and emphasize the point by howling as loud as we can. I know that's how I'd want to be welcomed home!

Anyway, it's Friday again, and you know what that means! We celebrate the greatest day of the week by honoring the greatest kind of dog: basset hounds! This week's famous hound is named Penny. Penny may or may not have been a real hound, but she is the subject of what will no doubt win the Pulitzer Prize for Awesome Books. The book she is in is called Penny: The Story of a Free-Soul Basset Hound, by Hal Borland.

In this book a tremendously lucky family gets adopted by Penny. They thank her for this by giving her lots of cereal and milk (something I'd like to try some day) and letting her run around on their mountain. Apparently there are lots of bunnies on the mountain and she gets to run around outside all day and come and go when she pleases. Sounds like the life! The only downside is she has to sleep outside in a separate building. I guess this is fine for a free-soul basset hound who roams a mountain, but I find I am partial to sleeping in dad's spot on the bed. Sometimes when he gets up in the night to go to the bathroom (they get to go indoors in the warmth!) I jump up on the bed and keep his spot warm for him. If I'm lucky he just pushes me over a little bit when he comes back and we snuggle and then fall asleep together. If not he makes me get down and sleep with Layla and Breezy. Either way I think it is better than sleeping in some little shack.

I haven't finished the book yet but it is interesting so far. Without giving too much away, Penny actually has two families and part of the story is how she decides which one to live with. She is also a good guardian dog and protects her people from teenagers in cars with loud stereos.

So that is your famous hound for the week!

I take umbrage

So Elvis Presley was the king of rock and roll. He sang a lot of songs, but he is well-known for his song 'Hound Dog'. As bassets, Rosco and I take umbrage with the choice of lyrics in this song. They are listed below.

You ain't nothin' but a hound dog,

cryin' all the time.

You ain't nothin' but a hound dog,

cryin' all the time.

You ain't never caught a rabbit

and you ain't no friend of mine.

You said you was high-class,

but that was just a lie.

You know you said you was high-class,

but that was just a lie.

You ain't never caught a rabbit

and you ain't no friend of mine.

Our complaints are myriad. First, hound dogs do not 'cry' all the time. If we do anything vocally all the time, it's howl. But even then we do have to sleep from time to time, so we can't make noise all the time. Plus, that bit about never catching rabbits? It's only because we can't run under fences like rabbits can. I could have caught rabbits if there weren't fences or leashes in the way. You don't get much more high-class than basset hounds. Finally, if I ain't no friend of yours, it's probably your fault somehow.

I think Elvis never owned a hound dog.

SQUIRRELS

Howdy!

Man there are squirrels EVERYWHERE lately! I first learned of squirrels at grandma's house in Michigan! My puppy-cousin Maggie taught me about them. According to Maggie, squirrels are like rats (?) that live in trees. I thought this was patently unfair, because we dogs do not climb trees like rats (?) or birds. Man, birds really tick me off. I think they wait until you get close enough to where you think you might catch them before flying away and laugh at you. Anyway, squirrels. They sometimes come down from the trees, which is fair, because we dogs do not climb trees. If you are fast enough like Maggie (she is like lightning), you can catch them and possibly eat part of them before your human catches you in the act. Well, she didn't say the eating part, but that's what I would do. My other puppy cousin Max is not as fast as Maggie but is faster than me, but he hasn't caught any yet either. So there is hope for a non-bullet demon hound like me.

I am not fast enough, not by a long shot, to catch a squirrel. Which is too bad, because I really want to try and eat one of them, or at least smell them up close. I can smell them where they were in the yard, and I can smell where they have been digging and doing their squirrel stuff, but it's just not the same. I even found a dead one at the park the other day, but dad wouldn't let me roll on it. He never lets me do anything fun.

But back to the squirrels. They're EVERYWHERE lately! There are squirrels in my yard all the time! Even in the front, where I hardly ever get to go. Probably why there are so many of them. There didn't used to be this many. I think it's because I don't get to smell them up close. Dad seems to think it's because it is getting to be late in the year, which is when they are burying nuts and seeds and stuff to eat over the winter, and it only seems like there are more of them. But what does he know, with his soon-to-be-gotted doctorate of philosophy in zoology? I'm the one with the nose here, and it's telling me that the squirrel population in my town is exploding thanks to helicopter dog parents that don't let their hounds catch them, or at least roll on the dead ones. Bunnies, for instance, have dropped dramatically since Layla and I almost caught that one last time.

Well, that's all for now. I'd decree that they let me get those squirrels, but it won't change anything. Think I'll take a nap; there is not doubt I can catch one of those.