tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44170511753758754982024-03-13T21:38:45.953-07:00brando's blogyjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-26965721729815477632008-03-24T14:49:00.000-07:002008-03-24T14:53:58.283-07:00Everything Ends Up on The InternetUnbelievable!!! F*@k! Look what I found on the internet! My owner actually filmed me bathing and exposed me to the world. I'm so mad I can bite her! Or she can bite me. I've just about had it. Is there no privacy in this world? Now I know how Paris Hilton feels.<br /><object height="350" width="425"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/u7aupFjYw_E"> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/u7aupFjYw_E" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"></embed> </object>yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-18286134313612774072008-03-18T16:25:00.001-07:002008-03-24T14:56:24.717-07:00My Favorite Dog Scene In a Movie<object height="355" width="425">I just love the movie "The Dark Crystal" by Jim Henson. This is my favorite dog scene in a movie. I can totally relate. <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IgTsGEj6LT0&hl=en"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IgTsGEj6LT0&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"></embed></object>yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-66108589046526759262008-02-29T08:27:00.000-08:002008-02-29T08:52:34.849-08:00From Shelter to Scepter<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-zhCjHkLLwfLXkIHtzDRXdEVlEOj-8yXGOHk2nABsGBZ6cWprZUy4gstL0WoP4hunM1m09ILgHCOY59oZW3SNAgZeFCBBudqq6sR1erEr5uK13pQRuLqrtU2sgxdLxsHL2CjfJyvnj4k/s1600-h/Brando.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-zhCjHkLLwfLXkIHtzDRXdEVlEOj-8yXGOHk2nABsGBZ6cWprZUy4gstL0WoP4hunM1m09ILgHCOY59oZW3SNAgZeFCBBudqq6sR1erEr5uK13pQRuLqrtU2sgxdLxsHL2CjfJyvnj4k/s400/Brando.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172444539444801858" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I have decided that if I ever write my own biography, I would title it "From Shelter to Scepter, A Rag to Riches Story of My Life, Brando Marlon Joffe" by Brando Marlon Joffe.<br /><br />It was a rough start coming into this world. I don't remember much about my previous owners except that I have a weakness for children and babies crying. How I love them so. The rest is vague, and there must not have been much love lost between us for the cruelty of them leaving me in a stinky, cold, piss ridden shelter with claims that I was too expensive. The nerve of them! I AM NOT high maintenance. Sure my hair cuts are expensive (but hey, they don't just cut the hair on my head), but I will eat basically anything (as afore mentioned in my other blogs) and I sleep all day and I just need some affection now and then. Is that too much to ask for?<br /><br />So yes, it was a miserable existence for those whole 3 days in the Anti-Cruelty Shelter in Chicago which included having my sexual reproductive organs removed (dear god is there no compassion!) and getting a case of kennel cough. What a dreary existence.<br /><br />Then May 4, 2007 a couple came in and picked me out. Hard to believe because I was quite a mess after my 3 day, post-op, solitary confinement. See the picture? A mere shadow, puppy, of the dog I was to become.<br /><br />Since then my life has really turned around. Now that I have been through the system, I know how to work it. I live a very cushy existence. I RULE the roost. Some might even compare me to royalty. I have a nice bed, can eat what I want, go for walks and get carried if I become tired, cry when I want something, sleep all day, plus I have some hot bitches for girlfriends (that will be my next blog). I have to say, not bad for a rags to riches story.yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-64673721899742657092007-12-06T07:00:00.000-08:002007-12-06T07:08:26.393-08:00Dream a little dreamYes, dogs do dream.<br /><br />We have good dreams and we have bad dreams.<br /><br />The other day I was laying down wagging my tail and my owner realized that I was having a good dream. When I have nightmares I will shake and even try to bark or growl. If my owner catches on she usually tries to wake me.<br /><br />What are my dreams about? Well, that's hard to say. I usually can't remember them afterwards. When it's good I may be playing in the snow, with a friend, or getting a really good treat - like a giant raw hide. If it's bad, I may be dreaming about a bigger dog or being dropped at the pound where my owners got me originally. I don't EVER want to go back.<br /><br />Either way I do dream a lot since I consider myself a professional sleeper. I practice often.yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-38133889485240694122007-10-22T07:20:00.000-07:002007-10-22T07:27:55.253-07:00Everyone Likes a Little KudosThis is a message for everyone, and not just my species. As far as training goes, its been a few months, and I pretty much (well for the most part) have the whole potty training thing down. Though why they call it potty training, I don't understand. There's no potty...just a patch or grass or a hydrant or a tree. But regardless, it really pisses me off when my human-being spaces out and forgets to tell me what a good job I am doing, and what a good boy I am. I mean, just because I am expected to do the right thing by now, does not mean it should be taken for granted. A little "that's a good boy" can go a long way. So next time you realize you are spacing out on your loved ones...make an effort to praise them...oh yeah, and a little biscuit never hurt anyone either.yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-54406478379091322772007-09-29T17:13:00.000-07:002007-09-29T17:14:31.522-07:00Ever Wonder?Please send or post your questions on this blog that you would like answered from a dog's perspective. Operators are standing by.yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-40388137816130040962007-09-29T17:00:00.000-07:002007-09-29T17:11:28.537-07:00It's Ruff Being HairyI often get asked by my owner "What's it like being so hairy?" I'd like to answer her sometime, but the language barrier conflicts. All I can say is that it's "ruff."<br /><br />Of course there are obvious pros i.e. you never have to put a coat on to go outside, you never have nightmares about turning up to school naked, you're rarely ever cold, you never have to worry about wrinkles, and people like to touch you because of all that hair.<br /><br />But do you ever consider the cons? It's ever so hot in the summer and you can't just remove your hair, bugs love to play hide and seek and they are so hard to find, it gets tangled and matted (similar to what humans call dreadlocks - though I do love Bob Marley, now that's a cool dog), it makes my butt look ten times as big (does this fur look fat on me?), often leaves get caught in my fur when I go for a nice autumnal walk, when my tear ducks tear, it leaves a stain on my hair, there is always some food stuck around my mouth that I can't wipe off with my paw, and people are always trying to touch me because of all that hair.<br /><br />Despite all that, I wouldn't give my hair up for anything. It's a beautiful salt and pepper which I believe distinguishes me as an intellectual (right, Einstein?) and have you seen those hairless cats!!!yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-22988276713262264242007-08-21T15:00:00.000-07:002007-08-21T15:13:44.852-07:00Gastronomy - Heaven is in the top drawerI consider myself an adventurous type. I like to eat exotic foods and I am not at all judgmental about what I put in my mouth. Forget those starving starlets...they are so boring! Water and air, again?<br /><br />In captivity the daily gruel consists of the most unpalatable dry, brown, bland food mis-labeled as Chicken and Rice or Lamb and Rice combos. Nothing of these does it resemble. I find myself hard pressed to find a morsel of some such succulent poultry or whole grain. But beggars can't be chooser. I being of the begging breed - dog (or le chien en Francaise).<br /><br />So when the guards aren't looking - I experiment. I stop at nothing to find something of taste and sophistication. Can you blame me after my daily rations? I've sampled anything and everything; thread, hair, sticks, rocks, dead insects, mud, other dog's droppings, glass, tissue, flower petals, cigarette butts, chocolate, leaves, carrots, and the list goes on. But what I have found I most desire to put in my mouth isn't quite edible. It is the sock. Ohhh the wonders. What a marvelous treat. Chewy, succulent, and aromatic - bliss does exist and like heaven it is indeed above, but in a drawer.yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4417051175375875498.post-14166625669114146322007-08-09T14:13:00.000-07:002007-08-09T14:22:54.321-07:00My Life As A DogGreetings Homo Sapiens and Fellow Animals of the Planet,<br /><br />I decided to start my own blog discussing, what other, than my life as a dog.<br /><br />My person (owner...whatever! as if animals can't belong to themselves and god!) encouraged me to do this, since she's all artsy fartsy and stuff. Life as a dog isn't as trivial as it appears. I have to find all kinds of stuff to keep myself occupied while waiting for someone to acknowledge my existence with a good ball tossing or humor me enough to take me out to relieve my bowels. You must know how frustrating it is not to be able to "go" on your own freewill. Therefore you must forgive me when in retribution for trying to teach me a new trick I relieve myself on your white carpet.<br /><br />This blog will serve as a diary documenting my life in captivity and my musings - by none other than, me, Sir Brando Marlon Joffe.yjhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10924438717307449722noreply@blogger.com0