Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! This is just sooooooooooo cuUUute!!!!
Maggie here!!!! Look what Slippers brought home last night!!! OMG! I guess because it was just rainy and stuff and he was feeling nice and stuff and he brought this dude inside and stuff sorta! Awesome!! Where does the warm and fuzzy stop!!! The little dude was just totally squeaking a lot at first, but once Tweet took control things settled down! Anyway, I named her Spot! Isn't that perfect!! Tweet wanted to name her Thumper, but I'm all like "Thumper? Thumper? That's soooo lame!"
FWIW Tweet is the same person who wanted to name Scoobie Sinatra "Bambi" LOL!!! Where does she get this stuff?!!!
Anyway, once she dried off and the rain stopped Tweet took Spot back out and turned her loose and she ran off into the woods. Probly gonna hit the mall!!! Then go hang with Scoobie!!! LOL girlfriends!!!!
And so anyway The Gerret has got his collar all in a bunch over something he calls the supreme cord decision allowing videos that show violence toward animals. Gag me with a chicken bone!!! You want to see just total violence and degradation perpetrated towards dogs? Huh? Huh? Check this out!!! GaGa is right!!! Or maybe GagGag!!! Hahahahahaha!!
IRIS you were here!!! Bwahhahahahaha!!!! Sometimes I crack myself up!! Wicked funny!!
Maggie here JICYHAFTO!!!!
The weather is here, Iris you were beautiful!!! Hahahaha!!! That's twice I made me laugh!!!
So you gotta look at this video! I mean it's like almost totally awesome!!! Technically, that's not The Gerret in this video, but I'm betting him and this hot dog prolly both came from the same sausage factory!! ROTFLMTO!!! Dog park, ball park, parallel park... don't matter to these dogs, it's all just poop-poop-pa-dooooo!!!! O-M-G gross!!!
Have you ever tried to stare at a television screen for 87 straight minutes? EIGHTY SEVEN MINUTES? Sheesh. No sane mammal would ever do that. That's more than TEN HOURS in dog time.
Oh well, there's probably no moral high ground here.
My good friends at some Hollywood-type marketing agency sent me another DVD to review. Specifically, "The Fantastic Mr. Fox." That's cool. As The Gerret has said more than once: will perform for treats.
The subtext here is that I'm late. They're pissed. I'm crankin' it out.
But really. 87 straight minutes? That's asking a lot from a dog.
So here's The Gerret's review of The Fantastic Mr. Fox.
But hey! Stop the presses. Before the movie even starts, there's trailers, and one of those trailers is for... drum roll... "Marley & Me: The Terrible 2's." I repeat: "Marley & Me: The Terrible 2's." Get it? A sequel to "Marley & Me."
Now I don't mean to get too all full of myself, but if you're one of the half-dozen readers who read my review of the original "Marley & Me," you'll know that (***Spoiler Alert***) MARLEY DIED. (***End of Spoiler Alert***). Make of that what you will.
But I'm here to talk about "The Fantastic Mr. Fox," which I guess they sent to me because foxes are sort of like dogs. So they figured I'd like this for the same reasons humans like "Bedtime for Bonzo." Right? You do like "Bedtime for Bonzo", right? Because Bonzo is sorta like... well, you know where I'm going with that.
Enough complaining.
"The Fantastic Mr. Fox" star George Clooney and Meryl Streep in the most amazing roles of their careers. The both lost a ton of weight, got a bunch of plastic surgery and glued hair all over their bodies. Robert DeNiro eat your heart out. I kid you not when I say Streep is a fox in this movie.
Anyway, I don't want to spoil the ending, so I'm not going to tell you anything about the movie. Just let me say that if you've ever been dissed by a rich farmer, or had a possum for a friend, or enjoyed Bill Murray in "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" you'll love this movie.
So what's the verdict? The Gerret, as always, easily impressed, just has to give "The Fantastic Mr. Fox" four Gerrets.
Spring has sproinged around here and The Gerret is out relaxing, getting a bit of the old sunshine and experiencing the changes afoot. Birds are making a lot of noise, peepers are peeping, moles are moling, daffodils are daffying.
Then there's Slippers the cat. From a distance you might assume that he is also relaxing in the sun.
But appearances, like cats in general, are deceiving. Let's zoom in on that face. Without doubt The Gerret declares that this cat is harboring evil thoughts. I don't know exactly what, but if you're small and kind of rodent-y like, I'd stay alert.
Rufus and his mallard harem are doing quite fine. They've managed to fend off a number of uninvited mallard couples that have visited the pond during migration season. He's not much for sharing.
Stump found a hibernating bat in his workshop. Luckily it was right about the time his alarm was scheduled to go off anyway, so he's be fine, if a bit groggy.
Chigger's slowing down. Seems to be checking everything out one more time.
The other day was ol' Chigger's 15th birthday. (The Gerret has been instructed not to mention how much that is in dog years. We just say "15" and leave it at that.) Here's Maggie and me with the Chigster in our official portrait from the occasion, all formal and stuff since Chigger doesn't have a lot of patience for monkey business or horse play and the like. I had this really cool idea that involved new tricks, but, well, let's just say that dog don't hunt. And neither does Chigger. But I'll give her this, she may be old, but she sure does smell. With her nose I mean. She doesn't see so good so she gets around by smelling and stuff. That's what I meant. Really.
Anyway, to honor her I thought I'd drag out one of her old blog posts from back in July of aught-three, way before my time. It featured her Master's Thesis on "The Semiotics of French Dog Signs." Apparently it was real popular at the Sore-bones or something. Click the picture for the real goods.
I'll grant you that the weather's been tougher than normal around here recently. And yes, The Gerret likes a nice cozy sofa as much as the next dog. But sheesh! Stump and Tweet are having their own little couch potato olympic marathon here. Time for a bit of preaching from my main dog Rufus:
So just when you think The Gerret is never coming back, well here I am! Chillin' in my Christmas crib, celebrating the end of my 14th dog year in residence and marking the close of the second human year of this, my carelessly casual but occasionally compelling blog.
So for your collective Christmas creature comfort I've crafted a customized and comprehensively creative cinematic experience containing a congregation of local characters. I call it: "A Corny Copious Collection of Christmas Clips."
Oh, BTW, it snowed here yesterday. Not a common calamity.
Remember Slim?! The Snake?! The star of The Gerret's totally awesome movie "Snake on a Plain"? Well OMG, he's back!!! And this time he's got a girlfriend and he's being like just totally romantic! Ha!
You probly wonder, what's a romantic snake do? LOL! Well here's some dude named E. Mohrman on eHow to explain it all for you!
Female [snakes] are resistant to mating from the beginning and throughout the process. Male snakes must hold females down with their heads and coil their tails around the female's. The female will continuously try to slither off, dragging the male along as he attempts to line up their cloacas. When successfully aligned — an effort that can take anywhere from a few hours to a few days...
Anyway, you get the picture! "A few hours to a few days"???!!! Sheesh!!! And I totally don't want to even know what a "cloacas" is! ROFL!!! Anyway, here's my latest movie, starring Slim!!! Careful! It's hot! NSFW!!! Ha Ha Ha!!
Gotta run! CUL8R!!! And watch out for your cloacas!!!! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Maggie here! OMG, OMG, OMG!!!! You won't believe what I did! Literally! It was sooooo way too cool! Remember SawsyPaws?!! Yes! My sister!!! We're related! In fact, we always have been! We're like BFF&E!
ANYWAY! We went to visit Sawsy! She has a dog house on a really really REALLY big pond with really cool water and like a really cool boat! It was awesome!
Here we are on the boat, catchin' some rays! OMG we are just soooo cool! I wish that used-cat-litter-for-brains-fool that dumped us on the road last year as puppies could see us now! What a total Loser!
Here's The Gerret on the boat! Ha ha ha ha! Can you say Barf?!
But like actually, The Gerret is pretty cool, he's just not an Aquarius like us! More of a land-lubber! LOL!!!!
Yes, been a long time between posts. That's because I'm a dog. And I work like one. Sometimes. I also sleep like one. And you know what they say about sleeping dogs. Especially The Gerret.
Anyway, that's a picture of Amy, who recently passed away. Why is this important? Well, because she was one-half of the comic duo Rufus and Amy, ("The Mallards") current residents of the pond. Around here we're kind of used to turnover in the resident duck pond population, but there's always a moment that's really annoying, and that's when you reach a point where there's only one duck left. As has now occurred.
There's nothing more pathetic than the last duck. Especially if it's a guy. He'll mope and pout and emote mournful semi-quacks and on and on and on. Rufus been all that in spades. He stares at his food, follows the chickens around, sleeps late, drops feathers all over the place and just generally sulks. Really no fun to be around.
So it was with some great sense of relief that Stump and Tweet came home with three new call ducks the other day. Call ducks look like regular ducks except they're smaller. Sorta like the Chihuahuas of the duck world. (Well, not THAT small. They'd probably eat one of them tea cup Chihuahuas. But imagine something that looks about like a pigeon except it has a bill and duck feet.)
So they put the call ducks in a pen and those ducks quack a few times and Rufus comes waddling up the hill. (You'd think he'd come flying up the hill, but no, he's too depressed to fly. Sheesh.) He sees the new ducks and you could see an immediate change in attitude. Best I can describe it is sorta like if there was a duck version of Enzyte, the once daily tablet for natural male enhancement, and Rufus was doing the TV commercial.
But still there was the problem of Rufus being on the outside and the call ducks being incarcerated. Of course the call ducks didn't know any better because they had always been in a pen. So Rufus spent the next day-and-a-half keeping a vigil and lobbying the governor for a pardon.
Finally this afternoon the word came down and they opened the gates. That actually didn't mean a whole lot to the call ducks who pretty much stayed put. So Rufus started talking and Rufus started walking and pretty soon the call ducks, sensing a ancient shared kinship, decided to throw their lot in with the big handsome dude with the green head and the corny sense of humor. (Two of the call ducks are girls, so there's definitely the makings of a reality TV show at work here.)
It was at that point that The Gerret, already in search of a subject for my next documentary, grabbed a camera and caught the drama.
The interesting part is that those call ducks didn't know a pond, or even a water feature, from a flat piece of dirt and the minute they hit the water and their feet didn't stop going down, they were totally panicked. But that only lasted a few seconds as they took to that pond like, well...
Four lucky rabbit's feet
