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You Ain't Nothin' but a Hound Dog

What Not To Get Your Dog At Christmas

What Not To Get Your Dog At Christmas


A CD of cats meowing popular Christmas songs.

A chew toy with the head already gnawed off by his canine brother
who chewed his way into the gift box around the 15th of the month.

A chew toy shaped like a shoe which he is immediately going to confuse with the right sneaker of your favorite pair.

Central A/C for his Dogloo when you're still using individual wall units that are barely up to cooling a small close-size area in your house.

Anything Garfield.

A remote control for the refrigerator door.

A knitted pink sweater that makes your macho Doberman look like a poodle.

A deluxe prepackaged treat-filled Christmas stocking that's large enough for you to use as a sleeping bag.

Doggie antlers when your nearsighted hunting relatives will be spending the holidays with you.

A stuffed toy dog with an angel's halo as a hint as to what he has to do to get more presents next year.

A doggie door between you and the suspicious butcher next door.

An audition for a diet dog food commercial where they feed him so much during retakes that he actually gains weight.

A piece of jewelry featuring a ceramic dog of his breed for you to wear.

His own Petsmart credit card.

A cat.

Things I have to remember

The garbage collector is NOT stealing our stuff.

I do not need to suddenly stand straight up when I'm lying under the coffee table.

I will scooch my bottom along the grass to rid myself of hangers-on.

I will not roll my toys behind the fridge.

I must shake the rainwater out of my fur BEFORE entering the house.

I will not roll my head around in other animals' poop.

I will not eat the cats' food, before or after they eat it.

I will stop trying to find the few remaining pieces of clean carpet in the house when I am about to throw up.

I will not throw up in the car.

I will not roll on dead birds, seagulls, fish, crabs, etc.

I will not lick my human's face after eating animal poop.

"Kitty box crunchies" are not food.

I will not eat any more socks and then redeposit them in the backyard after processing.

I will not chew my human's toothbrush and not tell them.

I will not chew crayons or pens, especially not the red ones, or my people will think I am hemorrhaging.

When in the car, I will not insist on having the window rolled down when it's raining outside.

We do not have a doorbell. I will not bark each time I hear one on TV.

The sofa is not a face towel. Neither are Mom & Dad's laps.

My head does not belong in the refrigerator, dishwasher or trash can.


I will not spend more than 5 minutes trying to find the "perfect" place to poop.

I will not eat other animals' poop.

I will not take off while on leash to chase squirrels while Mommy is standing on a slippery grass slope.

Daily Routine

1. Rise at 5:30 am. wet-nose Mom.

2. Go out and pee on the world.

3. Make poopy.

4. Sniff poopy.

5. Seriously think about eating poopy.

6. Eat funny-looking bug instead.

7. Throw up bug parts on living room rug.

8. Drink out of magic well.

9. Roll around in filth, then lavish Mom with kisses.

10. Sleep for 17 hours. Start all over again.