Cough up the treat.

Me likey beach.

But me lovey what's in your pocketttssssss....

Promises, promises

When, oh when, are we going for that walk ya keep talkin' about?

Poor Tammy. Warning: upsetting image below.

My mum received an email about Tammy the dog who was burnt really badly and had to be put to sleep.

Please be warned: if you’re squeamish and/or get upset about cruelty to animals, the photo below is NOT for the faint-hearted human. After reading it, my mum was in tears and gave me some extra big hugs. Strangely, she also apologised to me for some of the bad things that humans do to dogs.

The article in the photo is from the Daily Voice. Tammy’s human owners wanted to punish her for jumping over the wall into the neighbour’s place. They fetched her and put her in her kennel and set it alight. The SPCA had to put her down. The SPCA removed the other two dogs from these humans and are pressing criminal charges against them.

A lady called Hillary Faulmann is co-ordinating a petition so that the human owners are given the maximum punishment for what they did. She will forward all names onto the Daily Voice, who has agreed to forward the signatures to the SPCA to use in the prosecution of these humans.
You can email her in support at hfaulman AT bremner DOT uct DOT ac DOT za.

Poor Tammy. Sending her lots of gentle licks and hugs across that rainbow bridge.

Many humans believe that they become what they think about.

I think about bones a lot.

I hope that doesn't mean I will become one.

Well, not while I'm alive anyway.

I concentrated on dogifesting this delicious one, and it worked. And I'm glad I didn't become it.

I think it becomes me.

Or at least it did for about 10 minutes, and then...

...it became left-overs.

Burp.

Meet Perry and Pipkin the twins. They ain't cows.

Perry and Pipkin (can you guess which one is which?) are the twin kids.

They live in Canberra with Georgie. I live in Adelaide. (How does this long-distance thing work anyway?)

Their mum and mine used to play (really excellent) music together.

Perry and Pipkin are very cute, although there's a good chance that they'd treat me to several Zidane-like head-butts.

Ok, maybe cows have their moments. But not often.

I was tired, all right?

Big day of walks, dinner, sniffin'...you know the scene.

The insides of that thing are destined for the four winds now.

Bye bye cow. Welcome back, uber-cool-Tin-Tin cred.

Do I look like I need a cow? Do I look like I'd like one?

Today confirmed one of my theories. My mum is weird.

She got me a cow to keep me warm.

The thing smelt creepy and she said something about it being full of hot water. I don’t care what cows eat.

They probably make McDonald’s burgers out of the same herd.

(I’d still eat one of those though if the opportunity arose.)

She expects me to lie against THAT THING and not chew it into cow oblivion?

I’m really heading towards needing therapy in the very near future…

Norm's performing coolies. I wanna be their friend.

I ran into Norm's performing coolies a while back up when I was up in Tanunda in the Barossa Valley with my mum.

Looks like they were stopping off at the pub for a jar.

I just wanted to lick 'n' kiss 'em all.

Internet dating, Dogster and 101 Dalmatians...

In an earlier (dog)post I was wondering how to meet other dogs. That’s in real life.

I also listed my top 17 names for a doggy internet dating service. At that stage, though, I hadn’t come across Dogster.

Oh. My. Dog.

Within a few hours of posting my profile and photos over at Dogster, I’ve made 16 pals, have had 55 views and been given 100 bones! I’m feelin’ miiigh-ttyyy chuffed with myself.

Oh, and today I watched 101 Dalmatians with my mum and human sister.



Cruella De Vil. Baaaa-d.

Pongo and Perdita and Rolly and Freckles and Lucky and Patch and ummm, the rest of ‘em...

...big sigh...

Another photo from my baby album

Yes it was always about food, even when I was a wee (wee) wain.

Happy fourth of....mmmm....hot dogs

Yeah it's fourth of July.

I wish I was in Coney Island today.

Sigh.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad I don't live in America 'cos those horrible fireworks would scare me tail-less.

But boy I'd love to be a competitor in that international hot dog eating contest. Nathan has been runnin' that thing since 1916.

Apparently the all-time world record is held by Takeru Kobayashi from Japan, who ate 53 ½ Nathan's hot dogs and buns in 12 minutes in 2005.

When they open it up to pooches I know I would win.

My tummy's rumbling just thinkin' about it. Must be chow time.

Food cult (ii)

See my earlier post - Food Cult (i) - to read about my new religion.

Because I am dog.

2.42 pm today: worshipping at the altar of a chocolate-cookie-covered-in-crunchy-buttons thingie, Coffee Club, Henley Beach.

It's July. But it's NOT Christmas.

Ok, it's July now.

So why do some humans here celebrate Christmas in July too?

My mum and dad and I have Christmas at Christmas. If it's hot it's hot. If it's cold - like now - it must be winter. If we have a cold Christmas, I must be in the northern hemisphere. But I've never been there.

I get Christmas presents from the northern hemisphere. Here's me opening my (yummy) present that my Auntie Susan in Ireland sent me last year.

For Christmas.

In December.

Not July.

I hope my mum takes me to Ireland soon so I can play with that tiger they're all goin' on about.

Another hot dog

Georgie, Georgie, Georgie you're breakin' my heart.

And you're going for the choc treats too.

A gal after my own heart, or um, stomach.

We can find a way to make this Canberra-Adelaide-12-hour-drive relationship work.

Message me, babe!

More baby photos 1998

Time for some more baby photos of me from Townsville, 1998.


These steps are a bit big for me.


Come and play with me please.


I'm exhausted already.

Introducing Jazzy

If the truth be known I haven’t really been a ladies’ man, so to speak.

This might have something to do with a traumatic visit to the vet when I was a wee puppy.

I’ll hump my mum’s or a visitor’s leg occasionally, but I don’t think I’m interested per se in a girlfriend, know what I mean?

I'm happy feeding, walking, getting fussed over by my mum... Maybe I'm too much of a mummy's boy? I don't know.

Having said that, this gal – her name is Jazzy (short for Jasmine) – is very attractive.

And I didn’t meet her through a dating service. In fact, I haven’t met her at all.

Her mum and my mum go diving together. So the chances are I will meet her soon.

I reckon she and I will have great fun together. Maybe I'll even fall in love, who knows?!

I don’t know her star sign though.

Dog internet dating service: top 17 names

Right, so I’m just back from my walk. When I take my mum for walks we sometimes meet dogs, but not always.

I’ve been wondering how to meet other like-minded philosophadogs. I don’t often get the chance to chew over important issues with friends.

(By the way, check back here often, because I will be posting pix of my friends soon.)

Oh my dog! A dog internet dating service would be a great idea.

What could I call it? Here are some ideas I came up with. I'm not sure which one I like best.

1. Doggylicious
2. Dogalicious
3. Romanceadog
4. DogE-Romance
5. E-DogLove
6. Petapet
7. AnimalLovers
8. Dogz Online
9. Oz Dogz Online (Onlead?)
10. Animals Online (AOL)
11. MateADate
12. DateAMate
13. DogNetLove
14. Bone2Bone
15. Puppy Love
16. Let’s get woofy
17. Dogs On God (DOG) (this could be a theosophadog discussion forum)

What do you think? If you have any suggestions or comments I’d love to hear from you. But please keep it clean, this is a family-friendly dogblog.

Irresistible puppy, that's me!

Time for some baby photos.

Here’s me just after arriving home to Hyde Park in Townsville, Far North Queensland, in November 1998.

Food cult (i)

I am dog.

I’ve started my own religion.

3.45 pm today: worshipping at the altar of bacon and biscuit, Zootz Kitchen Bar, Henley Beach.

And yes, those offerings really were for me because the Zootz high priestess thought I was cute!

Vive la revolution

Let them eat, ummmmm, sand.

World Cup doggy dreams

It's a pity the Socceroos didn't win the match against Brazil like they did against Japan.

Maybe I could've helped.



I could be a Doggeroo. I do have great dribbling skills.



But I get tired quickly, so I'd need to eat regularly to keep my energy up.



My mum would've been shouting for Ireland if they were playing, but they didn't qualify for this world cup.

The world cup must be large. It would fit a lot of food. Mmmmm.

My dad scolded me for sneaking into the car and sleeping there. That's because they left one of the doors open after returning from Edithburgh.

What else is a dog to do when the temperature is two degrees?

Could I be a scubadog?

My Mum and Dad went away yesterday to a place called Edithburgh on the Yorke Peninsula. They didn’t bring me with them.

Huuummmph. I had to look after the house.

I’ve been there with them before. Lovely long jetty with achingly yummy smells of dead and alive fish and other stinky stuff in the fishermen’s buckets.

My mum and dad went diving. Why can’t I go diving? Maybe too much drool on the regulator? I couldn’t bear not to be able to sniff.

I wouldn’t try and eat the fish, honest, tho’ some of them do look tasty…

…like this globefish that my mum photographed.



And this seahorse that my dad photographed looks like it’d be a bit of fun to chase.



Mind you, this blue crab looks reeealllllly cranky. I don’t like the look of those pincers. They could hurt.



Anyway. When my mum returned this evening I made sure she knew I was unimpressed with being left alone overnight.

I didn’t talk to her for a whole five minutes. Then I forgot why I wasn’t talking to her and dinner made it all ok again.

I love my mum. Maybe next time she’ll take me diving….or at least bring me home some of those fish ‘n’ wriggly things she and my dad meet underwater all the time.

Theosophadog

I can relate to the dyslexic agnostic who wondered if there ever really was a dog.

Million paws walk: my mum's (non-doggerel) poem

I mentioned in my last post that my mum wrote a poem.

I'm famous now, I'm in the last few lines of it.

She's a poet.

Here it is:

Four thousand doggy grins
and pooh bins
yummy treats
tails under feet
massive
minute
ugly
cute
games and races
heel and chases
bark delight
woof want that cake
pant I’m tired now
lick that’s good
sniffing crotches
smelling bums
water bowls
belly rubs
doggy heaven:
these are the loved ones.
And one gleaming-clean waggy
dalmatian-blue-heeler-lab mix with
I-adore-you-feed-me-now look
post one-million-paws walk.

© OriginalJennifer 2006

A good (million paws) walk spoiled

Anyway a few weeks ago my mum, my dad (he’s pretty cool) and my human 7-year-old sister (I'm very careful round her, more on that later) ‘n’ I went on the RSPCA million paws walk here in Adelaide.

My mum got me from the animal refuge in Townsville, far north Queensland, when I was eight weeks old way back in 1998.

Oh my dog!

So many bums and smells and things, pure heaven.

Then a bath.



A great walk spoiled. Actually it wasn’t that bad. I got some cake, yay.



My mum wrote a poem about it (the whole thing, not the cake, although I thought the cake was poetry).

Whatever. I'm hungry just talkin' about it.

Philosophadog

I eat, therefore I eat.

Blogdogs rule... (and drool a bit)

Ok so my name's Tin Tin. I'm a dalmatian-blue-heeler-labrador cross and my mum loves me.

It's about time I got into dogblogdom and I've plenty of stories to share. I've it worked out, I tell ya.

And of course cute pix of me.

I luuuuv food, love my mum, luuuuuv food, love walks (especially on the beach), did I mention I luuuuuuv food?

Oh, and I love being scratched just there where my tail meets my body, ya know? Best!

Later, pets.