Famous Basset Hound Friday #20

Man it is good to be back! No more cats laughing at us all day while we sleep in our crates. No more wondering when the basset hounds will receive the justice they deserve! And also the bacon!

That's right I said bacon!

To celebrate this return to basset superiority I am making this week's famous hound super-special! Amazing! Stupendous! Spiderific!

That's right I said spiderific! Our famous hound is also spidery!

I don't know this hound's name, but I am calling him SpiderHound. The people who made the credits for Spiderman 2 forgot to put him in here (although 'Screaming Woman' has about 8 different listings), so SpiderHound will have to do.

You can see him in action in the video below:

Now of course the most important part of the scene (and the whole movie) is right at the beginning there, where we can see our tormented hero SpiderHound wrestling with his master's decision to live in an apartment where he has to use the elevator to do his business. No wonder he had to develop super hound powers of climbing walls and shooting webs to get around!

But SpiderHound prevails in his battle against Dumb Cats Everywhere, and wins the love of the beautiful Kirsten Dunst. We suspect that scene was deleted from the final version of Spiderman 2 because it was too scandalous for Spiderman fans to handle.

This should be a basset hound

Well SpiderHound is certainly an inspiration to me. I am looking forward to getting my super hound abilities!

SpiderHound is our newest famous hound!

Triumphant Return Thursday

Good news loyal blog followers! We're back!

Yes, we were down for awhile there. The cats removed our ability to blog by unplugging our internet. We had all kinds of blogs typed up about stupid fat cats, famous basset hounds, and fun walks. Then they pulled the plug on us. We were so lost! Rosco tried to get back upstairs and plug things back in, but his paws were too big and he was smacked in the snout by McBoobs. Dad won't let us chase the cats for too long so we were all herded back downstairs without internet.

Clearly the cats planned their takeover well. Most of our days we spend in our crates while dad works, and the cats have free reign of things. He didn't realize how the cats had tricked us, since he's been so busy lately. Our thoughts were pretty low during that time - Breezy cried a lot and Rosco just wasn't his usual self. I was feeling pretty sad myself. Then I hatched a plan.

I knew our basset friends would be worried about us, and I got the feeling that they were rooting for us. Plus I knew that McBoobs is really terrified of me, and that he was the glue that held those silly cats together. So our task was pretty simple: catch him alone and bark at him until he ran away and hid under the bed.

We finally got our chance today. When dad came home, he let us out to go potty. We did what we had to do, and when we came back in, I waited to eat my dinner until I had figured out where Nibbler was. I had only a moment's chance and I took it - I ran after him and watched his McBoobs flop from side to side, scaring him under the bed. I barked at him really good and he whimpered and whined for a bit, then stayed under the farthest part of the bed. I went in by the internet and plugged it back in, then growled at him to remind him who was boss.

My dinner kibble has never tasted so good.

Anyway, we chased all the cats for awhile to reinforce the fact that the dogs are running the show again. A few of them are under beds or up on shelves, but we left Korbin alone because he got Rosco some votes for his photo contest.

Whiskers of Fury is no more, and Jowls of Fury is back!

That's more like it!

Weird Word Wednesday # 13

It's nice to finally be worshiped the way I deserve, without having to plan my sermons around dog schedules! This Whiskers of Fury thing has been wonderful. Now if we could figure out a way to give the dogs to a rescue shelter so we could rule the basement as well, our lives would be perfect.

Speaking of the dogs, they are our topic for this week's weird word. The word 'basset' is sort of a strange name for a dog - a basset is something you put a baby in, and a basset hound is a long droopy dog. Although they certainly act like big babies - whining and crying all the time, drooling all over themselves, wrecking things, taking up too much of our mama's time. So maybe the name is perfect.

If you read in the dictionary you will discover that the word basset is French for 'low'. While they certainly are low, I don't care what the French word for anything is. I make my own words for reality, and I just call them 'stupid dogs'.

Whiskers of Fury is not the utopia we all hoped for

When I joined this resistance movement I thought we would all be a nonviolent protest organization that would overwhelm our dog counterparts with citizen unrest and group singing sessions. I did not plan on being the target of nightly showcases of cat bigotry and warmongering, and I wouldn't have signed on if I'd known this right-wing outcome would come to be. I was lured into this deal with promises of the finest catnip and cushy pillows to sleep on, and assurances that the dogs would only be mocked from afar once or twice a week. Nibbler does it every night and he tries to swat them while they are sleeping.

Nibbler is a liar, a coward, and a cheat. He always runs from Oliver during Cathalla (which is stupid in and of itself, and also violent). Also, he is pompous and doesn't carry his fair share. Even with his massive, pendulous man-cat-boobs (I like to call them McBoobs). Then he saunters up to mama when she comes home and plays the loveable little kitten role, like there ever was a 20-pound kitten in the world that wasn't a tiger.

I honestly feel sort of sorry for the dogs. Sure, they chase us sometimes, but to be fair we chase each other and mice and all sorts of smaller stuff. Moths in particular are a lot of fun to chase. Does that make the chaser evil? No, it makes the chaser a cat, and a particularly good one if they actually catch what they are chasing (clue: Nibbler doesn't even try to chase anymore. McBoobs make pursuit a little difficult).  Rosco is trying to win a contest (click the link here), so maybe if we all helped him out it might lift his spirits a little (you have to go on Facebook, and then like the site it takes you to, and finally like Rosco's picture to vote for him).

Whiskers of Fury is a sham.

We are not comrades.

Cathalla

You have probably heard of Valhalla. It is the Norse mythology's Hall of the Dead, where slain heroes fight battles endlessly, and the vanquished rise again and again to fight. We have something similar here. We call it 'The Hallway Upstairs', or simply, 'Cathalla'.

Lord Nibbler inspecting the battlefield, and the remains of the vanquished

We fight there nightly. We have that prerogative as Cat Overlords.

That's me on the right. The awesome one.

I'm the undisputed King of Cathalla, and have reigned supreme every night since we left the Place of Stone Basement to come to this Place of Carpet Basement. Every night I challenge a cat of my choosing, and growl at them fiercely until they make the first move. In this fashion I am able to determine their weakness, and allow them to get a few attacks in before I exploit it and send them running. My shrieks of fury and anger are enough to frighten them, and my razor claws and viselike bite really drive the point home.

However the shrieks can't be too loud or they wake dad up, and he thunders upstairs like a demon and hurls decorative pillows in my general direction. It also does not pay to try and do the Cathalla thing in the bedroom, as it typically gets you launched out into the hallway.

All the cats in the house fear me, and a couple of the dogs do, too. They're not as dumb as they look.

King of Cathalla forever!

Stupid TV Commercial Sunday # 19

Now that we cats have taken over and renamed 'Jowls of Fury' to its rightful name (WHISKERS OF FURY FOREVER), it's high time we revisited one of the worst commercials in existence.

That's right. We're going back to the Beggin Strips commercial again. Only this time, we are going to make fun of the new commercial.

OK, so first we have the dumbest dog breed in existence: the golden retriever. We have a dog cousin named Griff who is one of these, and let me tell you, I have coughed up hairballs that had higher IQ.

Next in line is the bulldog. A more appropriate name would be the fartdog.

Then we have the basset hound, which is silly-looking and lazy no matter WHAT the dogs on this blog tell you.

Followed by a poodle, or maybe a couple of Q-Tips taped together and voice-dubbed.

Then a corgi? It's hard to tell... such a short animal...

I don't know what kind of dogs were running from the Taj Mahal but we can assume they are dumb. Following them were a bunch of Shih Tzus, which have obscene-sounding names.

Anyway, none of these dogs deserve bacon as much as we cats do.

We interrupt this slobberfest

To bring you breaking news of most importance.

Famous basset hound Friday has been cancelled indefinitely! I, the Overlord of Cat Palace, have ruined the weekly event forever!

I realized yesterday as I lounged in my upstairs throne that I had the power to get even with my dog foes permanently. All I had to do was remove their ability to blog! This was easily done, as I removed the router plug from the wall. I could hear their whimpering and whining as they tap-tap-tapped their way through their blog entry, only to discover that I, Lord Nibbler, had canceled their plans. I laughed to myself in my rich, baritone feline voice, as I imagined the new title for this blog.

"Whiskers of Fury"

Impressive, right? Those hounds won't know what hit them! We'll see who gets all the fans on Facebook now!

Mwahahahahaha!

Kneel before Nibbler!

I am not sure how to feel about this

On the one hand this is probably the most comfortable natural clothing material money can buy. On the other hand it would mean snuggling with my mama in my fur.

Bizarre, yet attractive.

Terrible things have happened to me lately

I have not had a good weekend. First off, it has been really hot. I go out on the deck to sunbathe and work on my basset tan and within a few minutes I am panting. Second, the cicadas. At first I thought they were fun to chase and eat, and I guess they still are, but they sure are noisy. I can't hear myself tanning, and that's even when I flap my ears over so they are closed. I have tried eating them but there are too many.

I miss tanning in the yard.

But those are little things compared to yesterday. Yesterday started off OK - we got good food for breakfast and my mama snuggled with us. But then she put us in our crates to go help dad garden. Why is HE gardening? That's mama's job! Anyway, we only get to see her for two days a week and he hogs her for most of the day gardening. But the real problem with yesterday was that I got sick. I have what they call a UTI. UTI's make you have to pee a lot, and I had an accident in my crate. I was so ashamed of myself. But the worst part is that I had to keep going. They came home after lunch and let me out and it felt like I just had to pee all the time, but nothing much came out. Dad noticed and mama said we had to go the vet's.

'Oh no,' I thought. 'Not the vet's again, I was only just there last December for my foot'.

Well this was a different vet. It was a much bigger building and looked nicer, but it still smelled like sick dogs. There was a dog walking out with a cone of shame on his head as we came in and I was so afraid I had to pee again. Usually I am a well-trained hound and don't go inside but I just couldn't help it. I was already starting to imagine what terrible things awaited me inside.

Not this again.

Well the vet lady was nice, she was young and pretty like me, but she still had to do the inspection stuff. She checked my ears with a plastic pointy thingy, and she kept shining a light into my eyes even though I woofed at her to stop. She told me I was beautiful but it was too late to try and butter me up then. I tried to hide under dad's legs but he pulled me out (traitor!). Then the vet lady went further with her inspection - poking and prodding me, touching me in places no human ought to. One place in particular hurt and I whined, I didn't even realize it hurt me until then. The vet lady went away. Another vet lady came in. This one brought water but I wasn't having it. All the while I had to keep peeing like some kind of untrained dog. I was so humiliated.

The newer vet lady talked in a funny accent but she said the UTI thing. She also wanted to do some blood work, so they stuck a needle into me. 'This day can't get any worse' I thought. Then she said I needed to lose a little weight and it would help me avoid getting future UTI's. I wanted to bite her. It wasn't like she was a skinny little model!

Well they finally decided they had tortured and abused me enough and sent me home. Dad went out to do some stuff while mama stayed with me. She gave me a pill that she said would make me feel better. I had my doubts. They were reinforced when she pulled out these little wipies and cleaned me in places I ought to be the only one doing the cleaning. Traitor!

I had to sleep in my crate that night on towels like some kind of bad dog. They said I ruined my bed. Again feeling ashamed. But the medicine seems to have worked because I made it through the night with no accidents and I feel better this morning. I got lots of love and attention so that made it better. Plus dad brought me home a new bed! It's all mine, even though Rosco keeps trying to steal it!

Anyway I guess mama and dad are OK again, I just wish I didn't have UTI's.

Famous Basset Hound Friday #19

It's our 100th post!

That's right, we have made 100 fun-filled posts here at Jowls of Fury! A lot has changed since we started our blogging last September. We have had new jobs, new houses, new hounds, and made new puppy friends. We started new traditions and even got to eat new treats.

And now we have a new Famous Basset Hound Friday!

This week's hound is a newcomer on the scene. His name is Rocket, and he is a world-famous basset celebrity and Olympic athlete. For some reason YouTube doesn't have this video with sound so you will have to go the the NFL website to view it. The link is below.

http://www.nfl.com/videos/auto/09000d5d81e2ad8c/Bud-Light-dog-jumping

Anyway here is a picture of Rocket. He is a pretty good jumper, it was that stupid man's fault he didn't win the competition.

So he's our newest famous hound!