I Can't Believe My Feast-Finding Peepers

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Big Pupi writes in fear:

To my absolute horror I have discovered that my mom's torturous reach has extended far beyond my hallowed home. For this, my fellow canines, I am sorry.

Many of you may remember my brother and me being subjected to such cruelty... an act that many humans would call "getting toasty" or "bundling up." I grow furs for these purposes and do not need my manliness compromised by the crushing nerdification and undignified "doggy sweater." And to add insult to fuzzy cotton/blend knittings, my mom sells said devices-of-horror in her Etsy shop. It would seem that her reach is far greater than I ever anticipated.

Sure, it gets cold where I live. So cold, in fact, that if my danglies hadn't been cut off they'd have frozen off about 2 years ago. But when donning such cozy duds I must turn my face away from my friends, lest they recognize me and commence mocking. Could you even imagine if they caught me in this?
or (GASP!) this??Okay, okay... so that skull one is a little bit more bad@ss and more befitting of a beast of my proportions. But how do you think Stanislaw feels being forced to step out in public in this??Can you just FEEL the desperation on our faces? The sadness? The WARM AND SNUGLY HUMILIATION??

Brace your beastly selves. It only gets worse.

Mom has attacked one of my nakedest and shriekingly beastly friends.

Photo courtesy of Tadpole's Life Pond

Oh my dearest Tadpole. See how he cringes? Watch as he is forced into a zen-like state of meditations just to keep himself from totally panicking and heading for the snow-covered hills.

Photo courtesy of Tadpole's Life Pond

And take note of the concern on his sister's face. She can't bring herself to say it, but I know that Fig is contemplating this sudden and shocking lack of raging beast that was once the great and masculine Tadpole.

Photo courtesy of Tadpole's Life Pond

Oh Taddy I feel your pain. In fact, I think I shall call you T-Pain from now on. Perhaps a career in rapping will restore your street cred. Just don't do it in that sweater.

I just can't believe this...

Big Pupi

Raw Food Diet, Day 652- We're still stinky!

Oh, feasting! We've been missing for so long! But do not fear, I'm as handsome and as beastly as you remember (or maybe even more so):Tons and millions of things have happened since we posted last. I'd love to take you through every little bit and the most important things - like my daily feasts and whatnot - but mom says I have to preserve her typing fingers and stick to the big stuff. Let's get this ball rolling...

My stinkbutt brother had another one of his surgeries and another 10 sebaceous adenomas were removed. My folks had learned their lesson from last time, and Big Pupi was all bandaged up and had socks on his hinders to prevent him from scratching. Three days went by and he was doing super well and healing fast. Before they had to leave for work on Monday, my folks wrapped him up with lots of cotton gauze and a sweatshirt to make sure he would be safe when they got home. Well... for reasons that I will not say, I WEEBLED ON MY BROTHER while my folks were gone!! I weed all down his neck, and it soaked into his sweatshirt and bandages and sat on his wounds for hours! When my mom came home my bro was shaking from pain and she disinfected him in the bathtub and dried up his surgery sites. Everything was looking good that night, so she put clean bandages on and checked on him in the morning.

Well... all was recovering really well, except for one incision which had decided to ooze green stinky sticky stuff. Mom took him straight in to the Place of Tile and Steel and he was put on 2 weeks of antigermicide green feasting pills. He's totally healed up and fine now, but I still won't tell anyone why I lifted my leg on my bro! BP is such a tattle tale I'm surprised he hasn't ratted me out either. Mmm... rats.

In happier, feasting-related news, Mom came home with this yesterday:
SWEEEET!! My butthead bro has to be retested for his 2010 therapy certification and string cheese is the most delicious and effective training tool ever in the whole wide world. What does this mean for me, you ask? I get to feast on some too! I saw dad unwrap a cheesy log of deliciousness and immediately went into CuteBeastStarvingInNeedOfCheese begging position.
It makes my eyes go all googly and drooly beads collect at my feasting hole. My bum immediately assumes Good Boy positioning and I whine softly with the extreme need for a cheese-ing.
Big Pupi's bum also responds to the stringy cheesiness and he gets anti-gravity lip jowlies.
We're so totally pumped for our training schedule to kick up a notch. My tummy totally digs it.

In torture-related news, mom made my brother a new fur-covering device. Unlike his last one, this recent edition has room for a harness underneath and a harness-leash hole, which is much more conducive for embarrassing, sweater-wearing walkies. Notice how the high collar strategically holds in his massive amounts of neck jowly flesh:
It's like an instant neck lift! Mom wanted him to look totally preppy - like he'd be found sipping sparking water in a posh ski lodge. My brother's ever-increasing level of dork-dom never ceases to amaze me!
Sheesh! Totally glad that isn't me! I'm way too dude-like to pull that one off.

In my own most relevant and important news, my medicine is still working pretty well and now I can do my Good Boy Weebles and Poobles outside even when there are puddles and reflections all over the place. It's pretty cool, because I feast on little liver treats each time I empty the tanks and ignore my triggers. In fact, I think I've been such Good Boy lately that Santa came early and left a box full of presents just for me! I know this because I knocked the box off a shelf and dove head first into the fabulous stuffy explosion. Mom said I wasn't allowed to have it just yet, but I'm confident that it will all be heading my soon. I am just about the best boy out there, and since Santa doesn't keep track of my indoor poobles (2 - I got excited), I have a perfectly clean track record. Because of this Good Boyness, I made a long list of Christmas goodies. I'm totally pumped!

Time to go nibble on dad's slippers for a while, and perhaps jump on his belly while he's snoozeling. Santa also overlooks those Naughty Boyish things, I just know it.

Your holiday angel,
Stanislaw

Raw Food Diet, Day 474- It Lives!! (and other tall tales)

Hey folks! I think that I may owe you a story...

Mom, Big Pupi and I were out for a good, hard fast-hunt the other day and boy-o-boy were we feeling beastly and strong. I was doing my usual zig-zag running and Big Pupi was being all Good Boy and stuff and concentrating on where he was going. We were weaving our way through the big city, dodging humans and wrapping up a 4-mile run when all of a sudden Big Pupi whipped around mom and almost took her down by wrapping the leash around her legs. That nerdy Good Boy never does stuff like that! That's my job!

Well, mom stopped to catch her balance and untangle the 3 of us, when all of a sudden a lady human started to scream. Did Pupi snatch food from her hand? Is she scared of dogs? Did Pupi lunge and BITE??!! - Mom thought, too terrified to turn to look. How UNLIKE Big Pupi!

No sooner did she get her bearing than Big Pupi started to shriek and scream, pull on the leash and act all crazy-like. I just couldn't resist, and zooming around mom in the opposite direction I whipped around and joined in on the hootin' and hollerin'. So there we were, a lady and two dogs screaming bloody murder, and mom teetering on the edge of balance, on the verge of loosing and battle and tasting cement.

Pupi and I continued to pull and scream. The hollering lady human did her best and was soon joined by another female biped. We were a spectacle! Mom was freaked! Mom finally got the guts to turn around and look to see what Big Pupi had done, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a...

BEAVER??!

In downtown Chicago?? This massive brown thing lumbered up the curb and waddled its way across the sidewalk through a fence on the other side. Now there was a chorus of screaming humans along with the two vocal canines. What the... but no. This fuzzy, fat brown thing wasn't a beaver. It was a 15 lb...
MR. RATBUTT LIVES!!! And he's apparently been eating well. On this particular day he was making his way towards an alleyway filled with dumpsters were the prime rat feasting takes place. I wonder if he has a date tonight! Oh I was just SOOO happy to see the ol' guy. He's one major stud of a ratbutt.

Big Pupi and I wanted to chase him down, so that we may sit with him a while and enjoy some pleasant conversation. But, of course, loser-mom said NO WAY!! and she dragged us home, still screaming. I was mad as poobles and made angry faces like this:
On another day, during a morning pooble walk, I saw what I'm sure is one of Mr. Ratbutt's kids racing about town, and Big Pupi and I found a hole in a building that I'm certain is his home. It's right behind a dumpster, so I guess he kind of has a on-suite kitchen. Those rats know how to LIVE!! Pupi and I always try to get a close sniff of his den, but our folks never seem to allow it. I don't know what they have against city rats. They're cool guys that KNOW how to FEAST!! I'm sure they could teach me a thing or two about scavenging. I NEED to LEARN!

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Away from the awesome rats now and into Nerdy News - Big Pupi FINALLY got his official therapy dog gear. He feels quite noble and proud to wear it.
It has a pocket that holds his fancy badge...
...and a badge that, well... IS a fancy badge.
Mom had to make some adjustments, like cutting the extra straps and gluing the badge holder back on. (She said it's made like a piece of pooble but cost a lot of cheese money. Mom was NOT pleased.) But Big Pupi sure looks dashing in his new gear and he can't wait to take it for a test drive in a few days. He wore that silly girl-scout vest with a HUGE smile on his face:
And just so you don't forget what a handsome, beastly, lip-curling profile SHOULD look like, here's a photo of yours truly:
We have a question for all you crazy canines~

The day after some good, hard exercise, Big Pupi turns into a 6-month old puppy. He bounces, he thrashes, he wiggles and wrastles. He regresses SO much, that strange humans think this (almost) 6-year old greying boy is a baby springer spaniel. He still has his manners (that dork!), but his silly playfulness goes up about 1,000%. Do any of you do this? It's so wacky!

My brother is a wierd-o,
Stanislaw

P.S. - Check out our new shop on Etsy, Tasty Threads! It just went up yesterday. Mom's been working her fingers to the bone - each piece takes DAYS... and she could have been spending that time with me! What is this world coming to?