Likes: Sitting in lap, car rides, singing along with piano practicing
Pet-Peeves: Vacuum cleaner, people who don't share their food, and joggers
Favorite Toy: People's feet and Katie's slippers and that horrible doll that the Wee Lass got which must be destroyed!
Favorite Food: Whatever you are eating. Will even eat vegetables. How does one keep a home clean without a dog?
Favorite Walk: The neighborhood.
Best Tricks: Can jump straight up in the air from a standing position, and can do a backflip
Arrival Story: Adopt 2010 C0ntest
Mulligan's Adoption story, told by Mulligan.
In 2005, the family lost Tyler to old-age. His nickname was "Mother Tyler" and in keeping with his nurturing instincts, he was rapidly failing, but managed to hang on until Oldest Lad finished off his end of year Freshman Exams. On the very day, Tyler stopped eating, and lasted one more week.
Mom was not "planning" to get a dog. She noticed that the Shelter was having an Adoption Fair at the local pet store. Mom stopped in. She met several dogs, including Me, Mulligan. I was NOT Mom's type. My ears did not stand up. My fur was short. I was not the "German Shepherdy" type that Mom was naturally attracted too. I even acted aloof, cold, "hard to get."
Oh, I had been through this whole "adoption" thing before. I had been found, sick, malnourished, and close to death, and nursed back to recovery by a Shelter Volunteer. I was then Adopted, but returned due to "Separation Anxiety." I then lived at the shelter for over 18 months. I was actually quite content at the Shelter. I was a tidy, scheduled type of dog and enjoyed the regular walks and getting my Kibble On Time.
Mom left the next day to go on vacation. Little did she know that I, Mulligan, had a plan.
Almost nightly while Mom was sleeping on vacation, I visited Mom in her dreams.
As soon as Mom came home from vacation, Mom went to the actual shelter. There she met a dog named Kato that exactly fit her dream-dog status. Thick, luxurious hair (or rather it would be once the mats were combed out.) Friendly, charming, a real "player." Mom was certain Kato was her dog.
Except of course Mom kept DREAMING about ME, Mulligan. And she kept having this nagging feeling that when she went to adopt Kato she was going to have to stop at my Run and explain to Me, Mulligan, why she was bringing Kato home instead of me.
Finally Mom gave in to the Mull-Can Mind-Meld that I had put upon her and adopted me!
Kato, charming as he was, was adopted soon thereafter.
Then I was her soul-mate until my unfortunate demise one year ago.
Bio: He had a very beautiful singing voice, he really liked twinkle-twinkle little star. He sang when the kids play their musical instruments. He sang to the "Hallmark" musical snowmen. He sang when the phone rang. He also "talked" like Chewbacca, the wookie. He could order food at a drive-up window. He talked a lot, especially complaining and voicing his opinion.
Mom has tears running down her face. Yesterday, when Mom came home from dropping Little Lad off at piano, Pennie and Sophie went out into the back yard to go potty. Mom went to get them in just a few minutes. She was at the garage door, and the neighbor boy did not see her. As Pennie headed toward the garage towards Mom, the neighbor boy was in his side yard and made himself big, arms in the air, and screamed "Pennie" and then growled menacingly, like a monster, at Pennie. Pennie was startled, and ran at this boy, but then got shocked by the electronic fence.
Mom saw what happened, and then called out to the boy: "Don't do that to Pennie. Pennie won't like you. You should never do that to a dog."
Mom can't stand it if she has to euthanize another dog because some neighborhood boy teases the dog constantly, and then gets bitten. Why do kids have to behave like this? Wasn't it enough that I, Mulligan, was teased, shocked, teased, shocked, until finally the boy (a different boy) came into the yard and I bit him, just because I had learned to equate him with fear and pain?
I am perplexed by human behavior. I was adopted once before Mom adopted me, but I was returned to the Shelter. Apparently my first Adoptive Parent decided I no longer needed to spend my day in the crate. Since I was not confined to my crate, I decided that I would try my paw at Interior Design.
Interior Design Careers put more untold numbers of dogs into shelters. Fortunately, Mom had already experienced a dog who enjoyed Interior Design (Samson,) AND Mom was firm about keeping me Crated during my first many months at the Mulligan Compound. Also, Mom's schedule was such that I was not left for long hours, even in the crate, so I was able to channel my creative energies into other pathways than Interior Design.
Dad is currently working on the Boy's Bathroom. He has ripped apart cabinets, chewed up flooring, and sawed giant holes in the wall. Dad is NOT being sent off to the Shelter to face possible euthanasia. No, Dad is still allowed to live here and carry on as normal. Dad doesn't even have a degree in Interior Design, Carpentry -- his degree is in something quite useless: Philosophy.
I guess Mom is willing to look beyond Dad's propensity for Interior Design, just as she was able to look beyond my propensity for Interior Design.
Dogsters: the humans and dogs on Planet Earth are letting the world down. I am exceedingly distressed, and my already wrinkled brow is even more wrinkly.
Americans are NOT doing their job of consuming Snacks: The Hostess Company is filing Chapter 11 for Bankruptcy Protection!
How can Americans be so failing in their obligation to consume Twinkies, HoHos, SuzieQs, donettes, cupcakes, and all the other products in the vast array of moist, chewy goodness that is Hostess?
There is nothing more delightful in the world than hearing the garage door close, walking into the kitchen and discovering a bag of powder sugar Hostess Donettes just perched upon the counter, anxiously awaiting my overly large, but gentle jowls. Ahh, the anticipation of first determining how to open the bag. Then wolfing down the tender dollops of soft, tender cakiness. The powder sugar stain that remains upon the carpet long after the donettes are eaten, upon which sugar sweetness the tongue can dine and rub itself raw for hours.
Dogs: It is a Civic Duty to eat more Hostess. I am up here at the Rainbow Bridge. Tragically, there is nothing that I can do to save Hostess. It is up to the Living Dogs to plant the thought of those luscious snack morsels into their pawrents brains to save this American Icon! Do it for America! Do it for me, Mulligan!