Omar


American Bulldog/Boxer
Picture of Omar, a male American Bulldog/Boxer

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Home:NYC, NY  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 12 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 51-100 lbs

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   Leave a bone for Omar

Nicknames:
Marz, Marzipan Man, Omie, Lil Dude, Littlest

Doggie Dynamics:
 Energy 
sleepyenergetic
 
 Intelligence 
sillygenius
 
 Friendliness 
aggressiveaffectionate
 
 Playfulness 
not playfulvery playful
 
 Disposition 
anxiouscalm
 

Quick Bio:
-mutt-pound dog

Likes:
Food!!! Bounding up in the air in pursuit of something in the distance (don't ask), shopping at petco, swimming! cool weather, violins and faux fighting

Pet-Peeves:
Frisky intact males. The nerve! What part of don't-even-think-about-getting-on-t op-of-me-for-one-second don't you understand??! Not having his own chair and place setting at the table. People, especially those he's fond of, fighting.

Favorite Toy:
Balls. He even brings them to bed. His version of reading before sleeping is to bring a tennis ball to bed and chew on it so that it makes a distinctive "pok!pok!pok!" sound

Favorite Food:
FOOD is his absolute favorite

Favorite Walk:
near a body of water where sticks can be thrown or near a hilly wooded area when he can pretend to hunt small creatures that are invisible to the human eye

Best Tricks:
bouncing a ball off his nose like a seal; putting his front paws on the counter at Petco so the cashier can be sure to see that he's there and ready for a cookie--sometimes even before the person in front of him in line finishes his or her transaction

Arrival Story:
Walked into pound and found him sitting in a playpen. It was a set-up, no doubt. He had just been bathed by a shelter staff and he thought maybe he should go home with her. He still loves showering, especially with his mom.

Bio:
Apparently as a puppy he was tossed over a fence with his little brother. Seems to suffer some insecurity because of it. Very friendly, cheerful, enthusiastic and loving. Tries to comfort people when they're angry or sad. Likes to watch TV, especially shows about polar bears. Likes to play fantasy squirrel ambush games in the woods. Likes redheads. Honks instead of whining, possibly because of his barrel chest. Apparently thinks he was hired to sit in driver's seat looking very serious whenever he's with me in the car and I run in somewhere (only when weather allows it, of course).

Forums Motto:
Marzipan Man!

The Groups I'm In:
For the Love of Bullies, Bulloxers, Trupanion Pet Insurance Clubhouse

I've Been On Dogster Since:
April 9th 2004 More than 10 years!

I Was In The:
2004-2005 Holiday
Picture Party
!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Dogster Id:
27474


Meet my family
Juan

Meet my Pup Pals
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The Marzipan Man Memos


The wetting

October 17th 2005 2:20 pm
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The people I live with had a wetting in August. Everybody was dressed up very nicely but nobody got wet. I got to go and wear a bow tie. Isabelle wore purls. I liked it a lot. Isabelle and I stood to the side of where my mom and my dad were standing with some lady who was asking them all these questions. Do they take this and do they take that. I wagged at them to let them know that if she asked them to take some hamburger or some steak they should. Isabelle started barking and a friend of my dad's gave us cookies to shut her up. Then we had to go up to my mom and dad and they untied these bows we had around our necks with little pieces of metal on them, like the tags that Izzy and I wear only hollow. My mom and dad put them on their fingers. I didn't really understand what that was about. I thought they should have given each other and us dog toys wrapped with ribbon! The next day they opened a bunch of presents and I was certain that each one was for me. I just knew it! It was really exciting but it was mostly boring stuff. Lots of bowls for me to have food up to 5 times a day. Like right now. Candles for me to chew on. And there was a package of chew treats for me and Izzy!

My mom and dad went to other wetting in October. It was raining out and everybody got wet at that one. My mom said it was very religious. She said the people running the wetting kept talking about the spare ribs of the hole-y ghost. I wish Izzy and I got to go to that! If this ghost has spare ribs, we could be best friends. I wonder if the ghost is hole-y because some dog took a bite out of him because he smelled like a spare rib? Maybe I'll meet the spare rib ghost on Holloween.

 

Big Strong Man

March 30th 2005 7:00 am
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Nobody told me to do this, but I'm 3 so I took it on myself. I now sleep on the couch in the living room for the first shift of the night after everybody goes to bed. I curl myself up with my snout facing the back corner of the couch and I leave my backside all exposed. My mom says that's probably not how my ancestors used to sleep at night but I figure she's talking about my dog daddy's dad who was really fat and used to just plop down in place for a snooze. I don't do that.

So I sleep like that until I hear some people in the hallway--laughing and yelling--and I bark really loud like this, "Whoowhoowhoooo!!!!!" to let the bad people in the hallway know there is a BIG annoyed dog in da house and to let everyone in my apartment know in case these people in the hallway are planning to come in and take my toys, bones and most of all, my tennis balls. Cause you know EVERYONE wants my tennis balls. My mom makes this little shriek in her sleep--it's a good thing I woke her up because she was sleeping so soundly and she stumbles out and tells me it's ok, those are the neighbors who were out late partying, not intruders. But what does she know? Then we all go back to sleep until I sound the alarm two hours later. I am SO proud of myself.

 

Big Stick Redux

February 25th 2005 7:19 am
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I found another big stick last night. I had to work with it for a while to find the best place to grip it so that it didn't spin me around when I picked it up. My mom said it was a log. I was very proud of my stick. I carried it all the way home. I had to stop to rest my mouth. I looked around to see if anyone was admiring me and my big stick. It was snowing. My mom said she would carry the stick for me, but I didn't trust her to do it right. I took it from her and carried it up 5 flights of stairs. Then I wanted to bring it inside and put in on the persian rug to tear it up in little shredded bits and conquer that big bad stick but my mom made me leave it outside. I sulked for a while until she gave me some salad with ginger dressing. My mom told me I am spoiled but I sniffed myself and I smell just right--all Omar and very fresh.

 
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