Halloween Time (or another excuse for mummy to dress me up)

It’s a bird!

It’s a plane!

It’s Super Dog!!

Just kidding! It’s me, Bentley. Not sure how fooled you were by the costume.

I went to Meme and Pepe’s this weekend to celebrate Pepe’s birthday. While I was there, this lovely costume was pulled out. Mummy and Kelley had me run up and down the stairs to my cape would flap in the wind (see 1st picture). They tried to get me jump around, but had to settle for holding my feet off the ground (see 2nd picture).

I’m just glad there was no head gear involved. Mummy loves head gear. This one is way less embarrassing than last year’s pumpkin costume. Which had head gear. I cringe looking back on it, even though Mummy tells me I was adoraBULL. Happy Halloween, friends!

– TDEB

Meet Reagan – my little big brother

This is Reagan. Most you probably don’t know about him. I don’t talk about him much, since we’ve never really gotten along. But we share a house and the unspoken rule is that he stays upstairs and I stay downstairs. We also have a complex system of baby gates throughout the house so that he has a place to hide from me when I try to eat him.

The humans have tried to work with us and broker peace, but nothing has worked out yet. We remain sworn enemies, though some days are better than others. He does have two good qualities, though: 1) he leaves me presents in his litterbox (the humans DO NOT like this, for some reason and tend to get shout-y) and 2) if he throws up on the carpet, I usually find it first and offer my services in the clean-up department (the humans also DO NOT like this).

He used to wear a bell, but as I thought it was more of a dinner bell and less of a here-I-am-so-I-don’t-scare-the-living-daylights-out-of-you-sort-of-way-especially-when-you-go-to-get-a-drink-in-the-middle-of-the-night. But bulldogs have a highly evolved sense of hearing and I have adapted. As a matter of fact, I think I hear him now… I must investigate.

– TDEB

Birthday bullie

Today is my birthday! I am now 5 years old (or 35 in dog years. Which would make me the most senior person in the house now. I will be pushing for more meals, cookies, and toys.).

To celebrate, I finally got to eat my cake (well, part of it – the humans are party poopers and told me I would get sick if I ate the whole thing. I routinely eat my ah, regurgitations if the humans aren’t fast enough to clean it up, so I fail to see why this an issue.)! I was super patient while mummy took this pic. You can’t see the drool slick in this shot, but it’s there, trust me (mummy almost hit the floor when she found it a little while later. Oops.).

I also finally got to play with my new toy! Mummy stuck some cookies in it to entice me to play. Unfortunately, the toy isn’t very nice and wouldn’t give them back to me. I chased it all over the living room, dining room and kitchen with only moderate success. I got some out, but there are more in there. I’ll wear it down eventually. The humans have a running bet on how long it takes me to destroy the toy, anyways.

I’m a little out of breath from chasing the bugger all over, but I’m determined to get my cookies back from him and reclaim what is rightfully mine. I will prevail, reader, I assure you of that.

– TDEB

Biggest. Day. Ever.

Well, maybe. My TV debut was a pretty big day. But this has been a big one, too.

My birthday is Monday (hint, hint to all those who have yet to buy me a gift). I’m normally an early riser, even on the weekends (creature of habit and all that). I start whining  and huffing at the humans to wake up around 6:30 – 7:00am. Dad takes me out to potty, I eat my nummies, and then settle on the couch for my early morning nap. Today, though, the humans were up early. Why, you ask? I had a photo shoot at 9am sharp. The humans were in the pictures too, but I’m pretty sure I was the main attraction.

After the photo shoot was over, we stopped at River Dog Bakery. Perhaps you’re not aware of what a big deal this is. If you’re one of these people, THIS IS WHERE MY COOKIES ARE MADE. So now you see what a momentous occassion this was. The humans picked up by birthday cake (yum!), a new toy, a fresh batch of cookies (yippee!), and the nice lady at the store even gave me some ginger cookies for my birthday (delish!). I also got to sample some other cookies which I heartily approved of. Here’s a shot of my loot (obviously I was a very good bullie this year; hint hint to Santa):

After running around all morning (exhausting) we came home and I caught up on my mid-morning, late-morning, and early afternoon naps. I can’t wait to see how the pictures turn out; I’m sure I’ll look handsome, as always.

Off to catch up on my beauty sleep, so until next time,

– TDEB

A war on two fronts or why good news/bad news isn’t a fun game

Mummy likes to play a game with me that I call good news/bad news. It goes something like this (*clearing throat for my best mummy voice*): “Bentley! Who wants to eat lots of peanut butter? I’m sending a whole, fresh jar with you to the V-E-T while we’re out of town this weekend!” or “Benson! Who wants a butt rub? It’s time to go out in the rain to potty!”. This game is also know as “good news, bad news” and I’m on to it. I’ve become adept at swiping cookies that were meant to bribe me off the couch, gobbling PB and then spitting out the medicine the humans hid in it, etc.

I have been fighting the good fight since my last post, and hope you have been doing the same, reader. I do have my own version of good news/bad news to share with you today, though.

First, the good – the enemy has been vanquished!

While I can’t claim I executed a Seal Team 6-type of mission, I do feel like I played a direct role in this crucial defeat of my sworn enemy. Mummy cautions me to not to get too excited as these things have a way of “coming back to life” or some such nonsense, but I stand firm in my declaration of victory.

And now the bad. The very bad. There is another enemy encroaching on the homestead. I’ve intrepidly (all the while hiding behind mummy) ventured out to scope out the enemy and have this picture to offer:

And he appears to have multiplied. And he glows at night. And they look RIGHT AT ME while I try to potty. The front yard is not safe. The backyard is no longer safe. I am now confined to the side yard that gives mummy the creeps because she once saw a snail AND a slug there on the same day. (I tried to be helpful and eat them which, oddly, did not seem to make mummy feel better.)

But back to the enemy that has now launched a double offensive: Reader – I implore you stay strong and vigilant in the face of grave danger. Halloween is fast approaching and I plan to survive. If you have been fortunate enough to not have been invaded, I ask a few things of you to help me carry on the fight:

1. Please send cookies. (I need a stockpile in case things take a turn for the worst. I’ve seen “The Walking Dead” and am well-versed in zombie apocalypse.) And, there is no such thing as too many cookies. I also may or may not be an emotional eater.
2. Ummm… I guess the cookies are it. I would ask for reinforcements, but I’m really rather anti-social (though I much prefer to call myself introverted), so… there’s that.

Until next time, I remain (somewhat) courageously yours,

TDEB

Under Siege – Day 1

Hello, faithful readers. I write to you from the safety of my dining room and have a most important announcement to share. We are under siege.

It started out as a perfectly normal day – I woke the humans up at 6am for potties and nummies. I took my early morning nap, my late morning nap, and my mid-day nap on the couch, on the rug, and the hearth, respectively. There may or may not have been additional naps.  I played with some toys. I barked at the neighbor kids playing outside. I tried to eat some furniture and the air freshener plugged in the hallway. Totally normal day.

Until now. Mummy took me out for my one of my evening potty breaks and there it was:

My reaction: typical. Lots of barking, lunging, growling and in general making a scene. Mummy tells me it’s harmless decoration known as a Halloween inflatable. She reminds of the annual terror that is Halloween. I have no recollection of this in prior years, though Mummy also reminded me that I’m usually on a double dose of  my evening happy meds so that I don’t needlessly terrorize the children who come to my house and take candy from my humans. I do believe my humans have lost their marbles – in what world, I ask you, is it acceptable for small people to COME TO MY HOUSE and TAKE THINGS FROM ME?

At any rate, the siege is under way my friends. Consider yourselves warned; I urge you to take action now while you may still have time. For this operation in our home, I have named Mummy as our leader and she will herefore be known as Lt. Mummy. In the immortal words of Antione Dodson I urge you to “hide yo kids, hide yo wife”. I will also be hiding, likely behind Lt. Mummy. I will attempt further investigation of the subject in the days to come, so stay tuned. In the mean time, I will be studying further strategies to protect the homestead. Lt. Mummy was kind enough to bring up the Wikipedia page on Winston Churchill for my edification.

Little know fact – the humans considered naming me – among other things – Winston, Franklin, and Roosevelt (I came to the rescue as Bentley). However, they could never remember their current favorite name and I was called all names under the sun. They decided to stick with Bentley to alleviate all the confusion. I must say, though, I do feel a strong affinity for Winston. Especially considering the current situation.

Stay strong, dear readers.

– TDEB