Tuesday, March 22, 2011

My Wisdom Panel photos are up!

Mars Veterinary, purveyors of the Wisdom PanelTM doggie DNA test, let us upload four pictures and a short profile of your humble correspondent. I think they look pretty good! To see them, follow this link.

Monday, March 21, 2011


Never eat from the bathroom trashcan. Nothing you find there has much nutritional value. What is worse, while it looks hard to pass up, it could be even harder just to pass!

Thursday, March 17, 2011

It's not easy wearing green.

Those of you who know me might recall that I prefer running around nekkid to wearing any kind of clothing. But I figure that a faithful dog should try to sport some token piece of green attire when (a) his main peeps are largely of Irish pedigree and (b) this just happens to be St. Patrick's Day!

So sure and Begorrah, here goes:

M asked if I could try to look a bit more upbeat, and I said maybe, if someone else puts on a silly hat and gets in the picture with me.

Give us a kiss, sweetie!

Woof! Too much celebration is rough on a body:

Let's all have a safe and happy St. Paddy's Day!

Monday, March 14, 2011

In the clearing stands a Boxer . . .

. . . and an American Bulldog and a Chesapeake Bay Retriever and a bunch of unspecified breeds, too.

Yes, readers, my DNA test results are back, and I'm happy to report that I passed! To nobody's surprise the single biggest contributor to my family history is the Boxer. According to the Wisdom PanelTM Insights Test, there is a high probability that one of my four grandparents was a purebred Boxer. This means that either my dad or mom was probably half-Boxer and therefore that I'm about one-quarter. M and J say you can spot the Boxer in me from my fawn/brindle coloration, the white stripe on my chest, and my adorable tiny hiney:

Nor is it surprising that another of my grandparents was part American Bulldog. (That reminds me of a joke: One guy says to another, "I have a dog that's part Collie and part Bull. He's worth five thousand dollars." His friend asks him which part is Bull, and the first guy replies, "The part about the five thousand dollars.")

According to Wikipedia, American Bulldogs bond strongly with their owners. This describes my situation to a T, as M follows me everywhere! M says the Bulldog part of me shows up best if you look at me from the front. Here's the proof:

What was pretty unexpected is that my other grandparent from the Bulldog side of the family was probably part Chesapeake Bay Retriever. As many of you know, I hate swimming. In fact even wading makes me nervous! On the other hand, I do have a Chessie's happy disposition. And M says my Bulldog head definitely has a Retriever's profile. The first time I went to the vet, last April, they listed me on my chart as a "Lab mix," but of course they were only guessing. Here's a profile pic from one of my Wednesday night trips to McDonald's to "retrieve" some hamburgers:

I guess I might as well suck it up and learn to swim. (sigh)

The company that did the DNA test sent M a nice six-page report of its findings, which were based on an analysis of more than 300 genetic markers, using 11 different models and over seven million calculations. Here is the first page of the report, which states that I am a "Boxer Mix crossed with American Bulldog/Chesapeake Bay Retriever Mix." Click on the picture twice to enlarge it to a readable size:

Inside the report were several pages of information about Boxers, Bulldogs, and Chessies. To learn more about these and other dogs, visit Wisdom Panel's website and check out the Breed Library. (I hope shortly to be uploading some of my pictures to their Photo Gallery. Will let you know.)

Friday, March 11, 2011

Capital Update

I don't know what to make of this: Last December 15th, I posted a screen shot of my blog hit #4,818, as recorded by Sitemeter.com, wherein someone in the Executive Office of the President of the United States was apparently Googling for pictures of Sen. Mitch McConnell and his celebrity lookalike, Tooter Turtle. The Googler's reward was this little gem from my entry of the previous September 22nd:

Well, now it's happened again--government-wise. This time it was hit #6,905, on March 9th, from the Office of the United States Senate Master at Arms:

I'll swear, it's enough to make a blogger ask, "Why The Face?" Do these people, who probably see Sen. McConnell every other day, truly doubt that he looks like a turtle (with sincere apologies to turtles!) unless they see comparative mug shots? Or are they simply killing time before their lunch hour is over?

Just wondering.

PS - From #4,818 on 12/15/2010 to #6,905 on 03/09/2011. That's almost 2,100 blog hits in less than three months. Not exactly Huffingtonpost numbers, but not too shabby for a mutt who was living in the jungle a year ago! I sincerely thank everyone who helped me rack 'em up.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Thirty Seconds Over DeLand

Stone the crows! M and I got strafed this morning by a World War II bomber! It was a North American B-25 "Mitchell" that looked a lot like this one:

I didn't get too close a  peek at it because it was moving at a pretty good clip. Plus I didn't know exactly what I was looking for--or where to look. For all I knew someone was driving an 18-wheeler through the front wall of a nearby house! M says he thinks the main differences between our plane and the one in the picture are (1) that ours had an olive-green belly, not a white one; (2) that its wheels were retracted; and (3) that its rudders were painted with red and white stripes like those in this second photo:

But anyway, there we were, just a-walkin' down the street (singin' do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do...), when we heard this growly, rattly rumbling noise that started out soft but got very loud very fast. M looked up and saw the plane come over the treetops, passing directly above our heads. He says it couldn't have been more than 300 feet up. It had just taken off from our nearby airport, but for some reason leveled off instead of continuing its climb-out. M thinks the pilot probably wanted to stay clear of the clouds, which were low this morning after a big front blew through here during the night. I promise you we both got some primo goosebumps out of the whole deal.

Since M was with me, I also got a mini-education about the B-25. It was nicknamed the "Mitchell" in honor of a U.S. Army general named Billy Mitchell, who was probably the most famous American general ever to get court-martialed for insubordination. Go figure. Here's a picture of Gen. Mitchell:

I love the look on his face. It's like, "Court martial me, you smug Army bastards? Knock yourselves out. In a few years you'll be promoting me posthumously to major general and naming an airplane after me! I spit on your lousy court martial!"

The B-25's biggest claim to fame is that though it was a land-based bomber, it was chosen to be flown off of the aircraft carrier USS Hornet in April 1942 by Gen. (then-Lt.Col.) James Doolittle's Tokyo Raiders. Here's a picture taken from newsreel footage of one of the 16 Raider aircraft taking off for Japan in the first home-islands counterstrike to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor:

Doolittle earned the Congressional Medal of Honor for leading the attack, which was soon chronicled in a 1944 movie called Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo.

The B-25, according to M, was a famous piece of equipment. And to think that I saw one on Mulberry Street! (Okay, on Saratoga Road.)

Monday, March 7, 2011

Eureka! I have found it!

M says that some discoveries are universal among humans. I'm not sure how this particular one works, but it doesn't matter since I don't like to sit in deep water.

Oh, wait a minute--I think I've figured it out.

Hee hee.

Happy birthday, Grandma Grace!

Today is my Grandma Grace's birthday, and I hope it's the happiest one ever! M and J send their best wishes, too. So does this talented quartet:

Friday, March 4, 2011

A certain cartoon dog is stealing my act.

M says that since I came to live here, "Marmaduke" has taken on a whole new meaning for him. Roger that. I've noted several times in this blog where ol' Marm's cartoon life seems to mirror my real one. Here are a couple more examples. The first one isn't just a case of taking a page from somebody's playbook. It's more like ripping the front cover off:

Speaking of being "part Great Dane," I'm on pins and needles waiting for my DNA test results to arrive. After all that cheek scraping M and J did on me, what if they mostly got the residue of my previous dinner? What if the lab thinks I'm part lamb and part cow?