French Bulldog
Picture of Bubba, a male French Bulldog

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Age: 9 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 11-25 lbs

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   Leave a bone for Bubba

Bubbalicious, Bubby.

Doggie Dynamics:
not playfulvery playful

Quick Bio:

May 5th 2007

Eating, sleeping, bumping into walls, taking baths, chewing on furniture.

Being woken up from a nap.

Favorite Toy:
The pink dog chew toy that he got from Pet Smart

Favorite Food:
Puppy chow, bacon strips, anyhing and everyting edible

Favorite Walk:
The park

Best Tricks:
So far sitting...

Forums Motto:
Chew, chew, chew again

The Last Forum I Posted In:
Say your crush/love here (you have to)


I've Been On Dogster Since:
November 24th 2007 More than 9 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Dogster Id:

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The Life and Times of Bubba the Great

July 4th 2010 3:33 pm
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A new dog has come into my life. Though I'm sure he will be claimed in about a day or so we're getting along pretty well right now. The humans have a nack for finding lost dogs on street corners and back porches. They have named this one BJ(Buddy July)Kind of a neat code name, don't you think? Well, the Buddy part is close to Bubba, which means the chances of other family members liking him go up exponentially, and it's July 4th, so the name fits in an odd, clanky way.
The humans were setting up dangerous explosives in the front yard with the girl running diagonally across the grass, hands covering her face. All the sudden, they looked and saw this mysterious BJ standing on the street like some lanky imposter. They followed him for five or so blocks, running with bacon greasing their hands. They finally coaxed him on a back street as the sky was letting loose a thin drizzle. They carried him back and here he sits now on our couch, soaking up the attention.
On the street corner, another poster proclaims FOUND DOG. But maybe things will be different this time.


June 27th 2010 9:21 am
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Today we are going on a trip. Three people plus one motor home sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. And yet...I am excited. They cannot drag me away from the door where the cooler is sitting. We are going to the place with the aligator lake and where the people adore me. (Could be about any place)


June 18th 2010 12:28 pm
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This is the story of Hercules, kids, so gather round, pop a bag of pop corn and sit back. I barked a line about Hercules before but no one knows the real story. He's one of those sun lit legends that my people like to tell to relatives at get togethers when everyone's checking their watch and making up excuses for going home. In other words, the story that no one wants to hear, has already heard, and comes bursting out the door at the last minute when there's nothing left to tell. I think it's a good one. Not boring at all. You shall see.
Hercules is a dog. I am a dog. Any one who is not a dog is very unfortunate. Some people are dogs. Some dogs are people. See, all this dog stuff gets confusing. I keep it straight by saying, dog I am, dog I will always be, no stuff off the table or people food for me. I am clever, cleverer than any of my human counterparts. I am also very good about getting off topic.
Anway, back to the story of Hercules, AKA Baxter, AKA the only pug I ever loved, who was in fact a male, but it was a manly sort of love.
My people were just talking about how much they wanted an adorable pug. (The girls anyway, the man couldn't care less because I take up the space of every dog in his heart.) It might have been the day before that they were crooning over the adorabilnes of pugs, saying such vomit inducing things such as: oh chubby, sweet, cute, and other phrases that aren't worth the key strokes to describe. My first view, pugs were originally meant to be called pigs, but some one struck the u into an i. They would love nothing then to sneak up to my food bowl and bury their face. Such are pugs.
But Baxter, he was different.
The next day, Baxter's sitting near the hot tub. The girl named him Baxter, not me. He came inside and we played and played. We didn't tussel over the food. He was my manly soul mate, man friend, brothers in bond not blood. The girls adored him.
Then, came the next day. They went out to play tennis,(I really don't understand the human fascination smashing tennis balls with rackets. They were meant to be tossed on grass and tile, not battered within in inch of their lives) Anways, the girl saw the poster first. She tried not to say anything.
HERCULES??? What kind of name was that? Might be a different pug. Just maybe...
No, they had to take him back and my heart split in two. It's been about a year and I still miss Hercules, especially when my people are dogsitting for that whining pushover, Drifter, or teritorial Mercy.
I will miss you Hercules, but now I have Bandito to run with in the streets.

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