Dog Blog Vol. I #7

Hello out there!  Picasso here.  Not the painter.  He’s dead.  And it’s possible every other Human Bean on the planet is, too!   The Beans weren’t so bad, really.  I mean my Beans weren’t, anyway.  They treated me right, fed me, walked me, took me to the vet, gave me pills for heartworm and fleas, and, of course, I have the greatest dog bed in the history of dogdom.  That’s right!  A Tempurpedic of my very own!  Why, I lie down on it and it conforms with every twist and turn of my doggie physique.  It sort of becomes one with you. I’m not saying it’s a religious experience, but it’s as close as you can come to it with a piece of foam!

My Beans were spiritual people.  They didn’t hurt anybody.  They did good stuff for their friends and neighbors and were always helping out with charity and stuff.  The big Alpha Bean the kids called “Dad”, and the big female Bean the kids called “Mom”.  But the big Beans called each other by different names. “Harry” and “Roberta”, “Honey”, “Sweetie”, “Sugar-Pop”, “Twinkie”, and so on.  They had other names for when they were fighting, but the doggie oath doesn’t permit me to use those kinds of words.  Mostly they called me “Picasso”, but sometimes the kids called me other things.  Suzie would call me “Pickardo” which wasn’t so bad, but Timmy would call me “Asso” which he thought was the funniest thing he could say and still get away with it.  Fortunately they weren’t the kind of kids that were mean to us animals, so they never duct taped my hind legs together, put Mom’s pantyhose on my head, or hung me out the bedroom window by my leash. So I guess I was lucky.  Beans are a lot different than dogs.  You never know what you’re going to get with a Human Bean with their mouths moving one way and their brains going another.  Beans are a lot different than doggies, probably cause they aren’t near as smart and their noses are practically useless.  I mean a Bean has about as good a sense of smell as a baseball.  At least that’s how we doggies see it.  It’s possible that this is why the Beans are always fighting with each other and mistrusting everybody.

For some evolutionary reason the Beans’ mouths became their most important orifice (and with so many to choose from!).  Our ancestor, Charles Dogwin said it happened when the Beans stood up on their hind legs.  Now their noses were three feet off the ground (That’s right! ancient Beans were about a yard tall!  Ask Charles Dogwin!).  With their noses so high in the sky they lost touch with the good ‘ole planet Earth and all the great smells that could comfort them, warn them, feed and inform them.  For a doggie smelling stuff is like going to college on how to live the good life.

The most important lesson is that smells don’t lie.  They are 99.999% accurate!  The Beans gave this all up when they stood up to look around.  So over thousands of years they lost their sense of smell, but their mouths got a lot bigger.  For example, a doggie never has to say  “Where are we?” cause his nose always tells him.  But Beans often don’t know where they are and, of course, if they differ in opinion, they’re most likely going to get into a fight over it.  Then they will often use their fists to settle the disagreement.  Now a dog can’t make a fist cause we don’t have thumbs. You can make a very strong case that a good nose is better than a bad thumb!

The Beans have learned to use their mouths so well that they can do all sorts of things with it, but the worst thing they learned was to use their mouths to lie.  We doggies were sad for the Beans sometimes.  It must be a hard life not to know when something is true or not.  We canines don’t have that problem, thank dog.  When you smell a doggie’s poo place you know he’s not lying about anything!  That’s right!

I guess I miss the Beans, though.  They took care of me and now I have to look after myself, GeeGee and Franz, and now Chopper.  Still, I think it’s better without the Beans or at least without their mouths and tvs. What do you think?  I’ll take a poo place for truth telling over a mouth any day!

Much more important is that Chopper is getting better.  We found some kale and lettuce and broccoli and mixed them up in a blender for Chopper.  There wasn’t a juicer in the kitchen (I guess the Beans weren’t THAT spiritual) but we’re gonna get one from Bed Bath and Bone right away.  Chopper slurped up the vege-mess as best he could and in a couple of hours he seemed stronger.

He told us a lot about his life. He is the fiftieth son of a farm dog who spent his youth running in fields and chasing racoons for fun.  One day a strange thing happened.  Some men showed up in suits with big machines behind them. The next thing Chopper knew he was hiding out in a clump of trees watching a bunch of Beans and bulldozers turn his beautiful home into a tar pit that was packed so hard nothing could ever grow on it.  This made a big impression on Chopper.  He realized the Beans didn’t care very much about the good ‘ole earth.

By the way, Chopper told us why he doesn’t eat meat.  He said back on the farm, every once in a while, some of his farm friends, a sheep, a cow, the chickens and ducks, would be killed by the Beans and they would eat them! When Chopper saw this, how his friends were dying so a Bean could have a hamburger or a chicken salad sandwich, he got so sick he vowed never to eat anything that had a face on it (I don’t know if that includes clocks, but it’s an unlikely scenario).  That’s when he became a vegan and he does okay with it. Not many doggies could have lived through whatever happened to Chopper! Maybe it’s because he’s a vegan!  It’s funny, though, I always thought my food came from a can or a bag.  Now I know some animal gave its life for me to chow down.  I’m gonna have to think about that some more. What do you think?

When Chopper had to leave his wonderful farm home he started to see the world in a different way.  He saw how all the Beans acted when they were crowded up together in towns and cities.  He saw the real serious looks on their faces and he saw their mouths were always moving.  Chopper became a very suspicious doggie indeed and never wanted a family of Beans to adopt him.  He preferred the company of dogs more, but probably liked being alone best of all.  That way he could wear his backwards baseball cap and gold chain and no one would ask any questions about it.

Speaking of questions, the one question Chopper wouldn’t answer was what had happened to him to get so beat up and all.  He just turned his head away when we asked and became real quiet till we changed the subject.  I think he has PDSD (Post Dogmatic Stress Disorder!) cause GeeGee and Franz and me can smell the fear on him when we asked.  Like I said, nobody can keep a secret from a doggie with a good shnoz!


Dog Blog Vol. I #6

Hello out there! Picasso here.  Yes, the dog!  Isn’t there somebody else out there?  If there is I have some news.  Big news, considering how small the world seems to be now.

GeeGee, Franz and me were out and about yesterday freeing cats, parakeets, gerbils, iguanas and an assortment of other furry, feathery and leathery creatures from pet shops all over town.  It was GeeGee’s idea, of course. What a doggie she is, beauty and brains!  GeeGee realized that the food and water in all the pet shop cages must be pretty run out, so she Googled all the pet shops in Indianapolis and we’ve been freeing all those poor critters as fast as we possibly can.  You may be wondering how we can cover so much territory on our little legs.  It is Indianapolis after all, and there are  18 pet shops scattered all over town!

It was Franz who came up with the idea, and I must say, for a wiener dog (no offense), he’s pretty clever and his monocle does make him look like a very long four legged college professor.  Franz’ idea was to grab one of those electric buggies at the supermarket that handicapped and overweight people used to go up and down the aisles.  With a little teamwork Franz worked the pedals, I steered, and GeeGee was in the basket, giving directions from the Mapquests she downloaded.  We’ve been able to cover almost half of the 18 pet shops. When the batteries ran down we just looked for another supermarket and comandeered another buggy.

One of the benefits of being a doggie is that we really live in the moment.  We don’t regret the past or worry about the future like the Beans did.  In fact, if we hadn’t read about it in their books, or heard about it in their songs, or had seen it in their movies, we wouldn’t even have a concept of past or future, cause for a doggie it’s just now.  Now, now, now!  And let me tell you, it’s a great way to live!  Those concepts of past and future didn’t do the Beans much good.  All those miserable  “woulda, coulda, shoulda” thoughts.  All that regret about the past and all that hope and fear about the future.  That’s right!  A lot of good it did them now that they’re all gone.

The three of us weren’t missing the Beans, I’ll tell you that.  Whenever we see a tv that’s still on (they all seem to be showing “Gone With the Wind” over and over) we turn it off, and slowly Indianapolis is returning to a more natural state where you can hear yourself think again.  There’s room now for the wind to rustle through the leaves without having to compete with some reality show being blasted at you from all over.  How ironic that so many billions of Beans had to watch reality on TV, when if they just turned off their screens reality would have appeared all around them and they could have enjoyed the real thing!

It’s a brave new world, my friends  (if there are any more of you out there), and if we can ever figure out where all the doggies are we’ll have a chance to rebuild the world without all those Beans to mess things up!   But we still haven’t a clue as to where all the doggies have gone.  Meantime we’re doing what we can to free everybody.  Tomorrow we’re going to the zoo and free whoever is there.  I just hope someone is doing the same thing in all the other cities of the world.  If you can read this, head to the nearest pet shop.  There’s a cockateel that desperately needs your help!

Now to the big news!  When me,  GeeGee and Franz got back to my house after our pet shop run, it was almost dark.  There, lying on the steps to the front door, was a dark shape.  We couldn’t make it out till we got closer and then we saw with our own six eyes and smelled with our own three noses that it was a doggie curled up on the welcome mat!  We saw he was shivering and we could smell even more.  This dog was hurt and he was scared!  We ran right up to him and, believe it or not, the poor doggie was wearing a backwards baseball cap and a gold chain.  It was Chopper!  That’s right!  He had made it!  But just barely.  I mean he was barely breathing!  We all licked him and pushed our bodies close to his to warm him up.  After a while he opened his eyes, but they just fluttered for a few seconds and closed again.

Chopper!  Whatever had happened to him on his trip here it must’ve been really, really, really bad!  We didn’t know if he was going to live or die! GeeGee asked him a lot of questions but he didn’t answer any of them.  His chest just heaved up and down and he shivered from his baseball cap to his tail. GeeGee ran into the house, pulled a big towel out of the laundry basket and came back with it.  We rolled Chopper onto it.  He moaned and groaned when we moved him, but finally we were in the house with the door shut behind us.

GeeGee turned on the front burner of the stove with her nose and I got some water going in a pot and threw some beef bouillon cubes into it (couldn’t unwrap them, of course, no thumbs!).  Franz was looking after Chopper as best he could.  First he examined him all over and found a lot of cuts that looked like bites. Franz licked these wounds with his long wiener tongue.  The real truth is that a lick of a dog’s tongue is the best medicine you can get even though the common Bean knowledge is that a doggie tongue was not such a nice place to meet.  But that was all part of the ancient Elder Doggies’ plan for our long-term survival way back in Egyptland.

Most things Beans know about doggies are exactly the opposite of how they really are.  The dirty tongue idea is just one more piece of false information the Elders spread to save us doggies from being oppressed by the Beans.  If the Beans knew our tongues could cure cancer, how many of us dogs would be drinking water through straws right now instead of goofily lapping it up the way we do and getting water all over the place?

When Franz was finished licking Chopper’s wounds he dragged some doggie blankets over and wrapped Chopper up real good.  By then GeeGee and me had some broth in a bowl and tried to get Chopper to eat a little.  He opened his eyes then. I guess he was feeling a little better from Franz’ tongue bath and he must have smelled the warm soup.  But he wouldn’t eat.  That’s right! We tried and tried, but he just turned his head away.  Finally he turned to us and I got a good look at the doggie who emailed me from Barnes and Noble. He’s a mixed breed and the cap covered his ears, but I could tell and smell he was a real smart doggie who knew how to live on the street with the best  of them.  Who could have done this to him?  And how he must have fought to save his own life!

We tried to get him to have some of the beef broth again.  This time he had enough strength to speak.  He said: “Chopper here.  Made it.  Just!  Attacked by Splurgles!”  Whiskers!  Splurgles!  And he was still alive!

“Eat some soup, Chopper. Please!”  GeeGee implored.  I could see how worried she was.

“Sorry, Doll,” Chopper whispered, “Never eat that stuff.”

“Vhy not?” Franz asked.

“Can’t dudes.  I’m a vegan.”  A vegan!  Unbelievable!  And his name was “Chopper”!!  Later we found out it was short for “Carrot Chopper”.  GeeGee looked at me.


“Yes, GeeGee?” I answered. “Do we have a juicer?”

Dog Blog Vol. I #5

AHOY out there! Picasso here.  I’ve just about given up on the idea of getting a response from anyone else.  Its been almost two weeks since my first posting and only three doggies have responded.  GeeGee and Franz are here right now and we’re still waiting for Chopper, but I’m worried something bad has happened to him.

It makes sense we haven’t heard from anyone.  First, I’m convinced all the Human Beans are gone, otherwise we’d have seen some by now, looting, pillaging and all, but everything just stays the same.  Well, they’re all gone now.  Gone, Gone Gone!  And no one who’s left seems any the worse for it.  As GeeGee pointed out last night at dinner, that’s the end of global warming!
The real topic of last night’s dinner conversation was where everyone has gone, Beans and doggies both!  Where are all our brother and sister doggies?  Right now we should be organizing the Doggie Global Congress for a Peaceful Planet, but as far as I can tell, we’re the only three left and maybe Chopper, if he’s still out there somewhere.

We discussed various possibilities for the disappearances.  Here are the top half-dozen we came up with:

1) This is all a dream one of us is having because his owner fed him two week old potato salad.

2) Global corporations decided they could make more money by selling the entire human population to aliens and the  Beans are now mining rare metals on Europa.

3) The Beans finally reached the tipping point for stressed out human activity and melted into puddles of high- fructose corn syrup, which was quickly, but reluctantly, absorbed by Mother Earth.

4)  A secret terrorist weapon was set off turning the Beans into two dimensional beings that could only be seen from the side, which was not to be seen at all.

5) Someone announced Black Friday would be taking place this year on Mars.

6) Everyone in China’s shoelaces came undone all at once and when a billion and a half Chinese bent over to retie them, the force of their subsequent farts blew everyone into space except for the four-legged animals that had more grip on the earth’s surface.

Now you might not think these reasons add up to much, but if you’re out there and have a better idea, please email me at

Dog Blog Vol. I #4

Hello out there! Picasso here.  Not Picasso the painter, the dog!  I’m reaching out to anyone left out there, especially any dogs!  The sacred secret doggie oath is no more, so speak up!  As far as I can tell all the humans have disappeared.  They are all gone. Gone, gone, GONE!

When GeeGee (the cute little poodle from down the block) and me came back from the mall there was a stranger at the door, but I knew immediately it was Franz, the wiener dog (no offense) who emailed me a couple of days ago.  He had made it!  When he saw me and GeeGee his sleepy wiener dog eyes lit up like LEDs and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and was so long and he was so short that it dragged on the ground when he ran up to us.  Now that was a sight to see!  There is nothing so funny (no offense) as a wiener dog that’s happy to see you.  Especially a wiener dog wearing a monocle!

His body was so long and with that circle of glass in his eye he looked like a walking telescope!  Yah! Actually he looked more like one of those funny animals people make out of those skinny balloons, only he was wearing a GPS strapped to his front leg.

GeeGee couldn’t stop barking when she saw him. She was so tickled by his appearance that she rolled on her back and pedaled her paws in hysterical delight! That is one cute poodle!  I think I am starting to have some special feeling for that cutie!  Then we all started barking. We were so happy just to be alive and together, cause just a couple of days ago the world seemed so empty with all the Human Beans gone.  We rolled over and over and over on the front lawn until we were all covered with grass and twigs and leaves.  We ran around in a circle, each with his or her nose sniffing the other’s poo place.  After that we ran in the opposite direction and this way and that till we knew each other very well indeed!  A dog can tell so much from this type of investigation he could write a whole book about that particular dog.  A human could never believe it, because you can fib with a handshake, but a poo place never lies!

This is what I learned about Franz:  He is descended from a long line of dachshunds that stretches back (no pun intended!) to the time of Kaiser Wilhelm where his great-great-great-great-grandschnauzer was the Kaiser’s favorite pet.  The Kaiser never went anywhere without Franz’ g-g-g-g-grandschnauzer stuffed in his big red pocket.  His name was Heinrich Horst von Shmutzer (his chums called him Heiny Horse Shmutz for short), but the Kaiser always called him “my little sausage shnitzel”, and loved to tease him by hanging him over a meat grinder by his little hind legs and threatening to turn him into a real sausage!  The Kaiser wasn’t a very nice man!  In fact, once the Kaiser had the imperial baker bake a long roll exactly the length of poor Heinrich.  When the Kaiser got the roll he split it down the middle, put Franz’ great, great, great, great into it and slathered him with whole grain mustard and sauerkraut, thus inventing the Kaiser roll and the hot dog at the same moment.

TheKaiser put the little royal doggie on a big plate with some German potato salad and a pickle and served him on a covered platter to his wife for lunch!!  That Kaiser Wilhelm, he liked a good practical joke!  But it wasn’t so funny to Franz’s g-g-g-g-grandschnauzer or the Kaiser’s wife. When the cover was lifted, Heinrich Horst von Shmutzen took off down the hall and escaped down a drainpipe leaving the royal palace forever.  The Kaiser was so furious he declared World War I (don’t believe that story about Archduke Ferdinand – that was a cover up!).  Heinrich stowed away on a steamer bound for America where he met Mathilda Muncherhausen.  They fell in love and the rest is (or was) history. Franz himself was born in Cleveland, the runt of a litter of eight wiener dogs. He adopted wearing a monocle to separate himself from the rest.  Franz was adopted by an optometrist by the name of Ziggy Zigenheimer who disappeared in Cleveland along with the rest of the human race last Tuesday.

Franz confirmed that he hadn’t seen a single human or dog on his journey from Cleveland to my house.  Though he tried to put on a gruff Germanic attitude I could see behind his eyes he was scared and very happy to see some friendly faces.  I gotta admit I was glad to see him, too. We were all kinda scared, you know, but at least now we were three.  I wondered if Chopper would make it?  Maybe he will provide us with some answers!

Dog Blog Vol. I #3

Hello out there!  Picasso here.  Not the painter, the dog!  Me and GeeGee have been having a great time.  Today we went looking to see what we could find out there.   Maybe some answers to where all the Human Beans have gone. GeeGee has kind of taken charge and leads the way without asking, but she’s so cute, and, of course,  I get to follow up the rear… I mean GeeGee’s rear! For a dog that’s like going to the movies and a perfume shop to boot!

We went down to the corner first and there were no Human Beans anywhere.  The traffic lights were still working, but the garbage hadn’t been picked up. We saw some cats prowling around but we ignored them.  Back in Egyptland where all us dogs come from, cats were special.  The people back then worshipped cats and all sorts of animals, like sheep and jackals.  They even made mummies out of cats.  That’s right!  They would make a dead Bean into a mummy and bury a cat alongside to keep him company on the other side. Which shows that cats aren’t as smart as they pretend to be, otherwise there wouldn’t be so many cat mummies and so few dog mummies.  In fact, we went the other way to make ourselves look as ungod-like as possible.  That’s right!  You probably don’t know that dogs don’t need to hang their tongues out all the time.  I know the dog books tell you it’s to let off heat cause we don’t sweat like the BEans do,  being all covered in fur as we are,  and that could be true to a certain extent.  At first, way back in Egyptland, all the dogs kept their tongues in because they thought it was more dignified.  Then one day the Egyptians started looking at us like maybe we might be gods too.  Why not, everybody else was, even sheep, and if you’ve ever had a conversation with a sheep you know they don’t have too much to offer except “baa” this and “baa” that.  Baa, baa, baa, which is where we get the expression “blah, blah, blah”.  That’s right!  From way back in Egyptland.

The wise Elder Dogs back then knew that to be a god wasn’t such a hot idea cause you might end up like the cats, in a mummy case for eternity with some dumb noble guy.  The Elders back then got the idea that we all should hang our tongues out and pant when people looked at us so we would look kind of dumb and not worth worshipping.  And then we had that crazy look in our eyes that says:  “Feed me. P-l-e-a-s-e!” all the time.  Well the whole effect, tongue and eyes and all was so silly looking that the Egyptlanders just let us alone and paid attention to the cats instead, much to the felines’ detriment.  That’s why me and GeeGee didn’t try to get any info from the cats we saw, they being so dumb and pretending to be so smart.

We turned right down Raceway Boulevard and trotted about half a click to the Belvedere Mall to see what was up… and nothing was!  It was just the same. The Beans were gone!  Gone, gone GONE!  All the shops were empty.  The lights were still on but a few fluorescents were flickering already.  GeeGee said everything was running on generators and when the gas ran out that would be the end of all the lights.  That’s when I got nervous.  What about the internet?  Was that going to stop, too?  GeeGee didn’t think so.  She said the internet ran on radioactive stuff and that it would be a thousand years before that runs out.  I hope she’s right.  Do you think she is??

GeeGee then got hot on the trail of something and sniffed and sniffed till she found a camping store next to a Cinnebone shop.  She looked back at me and I followed her in. GeeGee found a backpack that would fit me, put it over my head and hooked the Velcro strap around my middle with her teeth.  Then, just for the heck of it, we smelled each other’s poo places for a minute.  It was kind of spontaneous and dogmantic, you know, there with all the camping gear and all.  I started to get more interested still, but GeeGee ran off yapping from all the fun she was having teasing me.

She put a bunch of stuff in the backpack;  glow sticks (she bit one to show me how it lit up), some nylon rope, a couple of rain coats that were meant for kids but would fit a dog, a knife with a bunch of different tools and a pair of night vision binoculars. She held those up to my eyes with her mouth and let me look. Everything lit up like a Christmas tree!  Who was this chick?   It was like she was getting us ready to climb Mt. Everest!   When I asked her she wouldn’t answer, just lifted her hind leg and peed on a Coleman lantern. I guess she told me!

After all that we went next door to the Cinnebone shop and ate about six slightly stale Cinnebones each.  If you know anything about us dogs, it’s that we’ll eat just about anything if it’s within reach cause we’re always h-u-u-n-g-r-y! So even stale stuff is quite a treat.  It’s like our stomachs are a portal to another dimension.  No one knows where all the stuff goes!  I remember I once grabbed a baked potato back in the day wrapped in Reynolds Wrap.  Well, of course, I ate it all, foil and everything!   My people were searching my poo for a week looking for that silvery stuff. You should have seen them!  It was like they were prospecting for gold or something, but they never found a shred of it.  I could have told them it all probably went through that portal into another dimension to be recycled… Some backward dimension where it came out another Picasso’s mouth all wrapped up in foil like I found it.  Then the backwards Picasso put it back on the counter from where he stole it.  I know that’s pretty deep for a Human Bean to understand, but I couldn’t explain it to them anyway because, you know, the secret sacred doggie oath wouldn’t let me!

Me and GeeGee stuffed ourselves until our teeth started hurting from all the sugar. Then we rolled onto our backs with our legs straight up in the air which is the best position for proper doggie digestion.


“Yes, GeeGee?”

“Do you notice anything funny?”

“You mean on the ceiling?” I said, staring upward.

“No, not on the ceiling, silly.  All around since we left your house.”

“Well, aside from no people and no cars, not really.”  Then I knew GeeGee was a lot more observant than me and probably a lot smarter, too!  GeeGee rolled over and looked at me sideways.

“Picasso, we haven’t seen a single other dog since we’ve been out!”

“Gosh, you’re right, GeeGee!  Where are all the dogs?  Maybe they’re still locked in their houses like I was.”

“Don’t think so,” GeeGee said.  “I didn’t see any at the windows while we walked here and I didn’t hear any barking either.”

“You’re right again!” I said, rolling over to face her. “And what about all the street dogs? You’d think they’d have been through here like a freight train, but nothing’s been touched!”

“Yep,” GeeGee said, standing up and giving herself a good shake from head to tail.  “Something really funny is going on here!”  Then she peed on the leg of a chair and motioned for me to follow her.

“Where’re we going now?”  I asked after I peed on the same spot she did. I was starting to get a little annoyed at her whole dominance thing. I mean who was the Alpha male, anyway?!

“We’re going to try to find some dogs,” she answered in a slightly superior way.  There was nothing to do but follow her not knowing exactly what she had in mind, but she sniffed, sniffed, sniffed, till she got the scent of what she was after. I sniffed too, but mostly what I got was plastic credit cards from when the Beans were still here.  You can smell a credit card for up to five years.  In fact, the smell gets worse the more a human uses it, and, you know what?  It kind of smells like poo… actually worse than poo cause poo goes away with a good rain but credit card balances last forever!

GeeGee didn’t pay any attention to me, she was hot on some trail. I could barely keep up with her (probably cause of the 6 Cinnabons I just ate), but GeeGee’s little paws were going like windmills in a gale.  She is one cute poodle!  Finally I saw where she was going.  There was a pet shop dead ahead and she ran in yapping her cute little poodle yap.  And you know what?  No doggies barked back!  The parakeets tweeted (they were on Twitter), the tropical fish blew bubbles and the ferrets ferreted, but there wasn’t a single bark!  We went all up and down every aisle and all the dog cages were empty!  The doors were all open and the doggies were gone.  Even the puppies were  gone, gone Gone!!  So we sniffed and sniffed.  We even turned on our HSS (Hyper Sensitive Sniffer), but we couldn’t figure out what had happened. It was like they had disappeared into thin air!

We ran all the way back to my house only stopping to pee ten or twelve times on the run.  Not cause we had to, of course, but because we’re dogs and that’s what dogs do no matter what is happening.  An atom bomb could go off and we’d pee on it.  We’d be vaporized, but you’d still see our shadows etched on some still standing wall with our legs lifted!  Beans were like that too, I think. Only they called it obsessive-compulsive disorder.  It’s always better to be a dog, you know.  The worst they say about you is “Bad Dog! Bad Dog!”  It’s never any nastier than that. We got back to my house and guess who was waiting at the front door peeing on the azalea bushes?  It was Franz! YAH!

Dog Blog Vol. I #2

Picasso here, with an update.  The big news is that all the Human Beans seem to have disappeared, leaving the world in the hands of us critters and plants (though the plants don’t seem to have too much to say about all this).  I’m reaching out to anyone who’s still at a computer.  I  would love to hear from anyone, human or non, who can explain to me what the cat has happened!

This is such a serious event that I have been forced to break the sacred doggie oath and reveal that we dogs are just as smart (if not twice as smart) as your average Human Bean and have learned everything the Beans can do so long as it doesn’t require a thumb to do it.  I have heard from three other dogs since my first posting, and one of them, a cute poodle named GeeGee, has already shown up. She’s a very smart doggie!

It didn’t take her long to figure out how to break me out of here (all the doors are locked!).  You know what she did?  She ran around the house three or four times barking and taking time to sniff stuff, of course.  Last time I took a walk I smelled eighteen hundred and sixty-two smells just up and down the block and GeeGee alone was about twenty of them. Yeah, I can tell you now we dogs smell piles of stuff, and I don’t mean just poo-piles!

For example, Mr. Jenkins, our neighbor, went out for a couple of hours two nights ago and came back with an angry look on his face.  When I took my bedtime walk I peed on the tire of his 1998 BMW 3 series and I smelled eighteen different smells, like where he stepped, where the door handles were touched, the butt of a cigarette he was smoking, and so on.  And this is what I figured out:  Mr Jenkins went to a bar around the corner and met a lady wearing cheap perfume and a black dress. I had found and smelled a black thread on the passenger side and it didn’t belong to Mrs. Jenkins! Mr. Jenkins and the lady in the black dress drank daiquiris… at least he did, I could still smell his breath in the air.  Then they got in his car and while they were driving he was stopped by a policeman (I caught the smell of his badge when it contacted the lowered driverside window) who almost gave Mr. Jenkins a ticket for drunk driving, but didn’t cause the lady said it was her fault, that she was the one who had been drinking and called Mr. Jenkins to drive her home (she had leaned over and touched the cop’s arm, the rest I surmised) .

The lady batted her eyelashes at the policeman and the policeman let Mr. Jenkins go, but gave him a ticket for a burnt out brake light.  Everything but the brake light I got from the door handles and footprints.  I smelled the burnt out filament in the brake light so I put two and two together… the burnt smell of the brake light and the smell of the summons which was transferred to the door handle when he closed the door.

I also noticed Mr. Jenkins was home about ninety minutes after he left, which explains why he had an angry look on his face (us dogs can smell anger and other emotions, too.  Anger lasts up to six days, as does envy and lust.  Human love disappears in thirty-six minutes).  Obviously things didn’t go well with the strange perfumed lady in the short black dress after he was stopped by the police and he just dropped her off.  So he didn’t get what he wanted and he got what he didn’t want…. a ticket!  Anyway, now you know what us dogs are doing when we pee on a tire… it’s better than reading the gossip column!

Getting back to GeeGee, she ran around and smelled everything, but I could see from the window that all this sniffing didn’t give her a clue as to what has happened to all the Beans.  Then I tapped my paw on the window, got her attention and moved my head toward the front door and shrugged.  She got my meaning quick… locked in!  Then you know what she did?  She ran around the house two or three more times and found little Timmy’s Radio Flyer. She aimed the wagon at one of the basement windows and pushed with all her cute little poodle might, and you know what?  The wagon went flying toward the window, clattering over some gravel and, WHAM!,  busted right through the glass and landed on the basement floor.  I ran to the basement stairs and the next thing I knew GeeGee was right beside me.  So that’s how me and GeeGee met. Dog is good!  And it’s no mistake that dog is god spelled backwards… it’s all in the secret doggie oath from way back in Egyptland!

Dog Blog Vol. I #1

Hello out there!  Anybody home?  This is Picasso calling.  No, not the painter, Picasso, the dog!  That’s right!  I’m a dog and I don’t usually send out messages on the internet.  In fact, I’m sworn not to!  Cause dogs aren’t supposed to think, write, etc., much less work a computer.  But I must break the Secret Sacred Doggie Oath!  The oath all us dogs have sworn since Ancient Egyptland not to reveal how smart we all are, so our human masters won’t feel threatened that we’re twice as smart as they are so they’ll take care of us and give us homes for free!  I’m just an ordinary dog, nothing special, really.  And I’m sorry I have to break my sacred oath, but I’ve got to!  Something terrible (I think) has happened!

 I woke up this morning, like usual, only it wasn’t like usual!   When I got out of my Tempurpedic dog bed, direct from the Orvis catalog, by the way, I ran to the kitchen expecting to see young Tim and Suzie, Mom and Dad and get my breakfast. What do you think I found?  Nothing!  No one was there! I have to say it again.  Everyone was gone. Gone, gone, gone!! So I started barking, louder and louder, but no one answered!   That’s right!  I looked out the living room window and all the neighbors’ cars were in their driveways but no one was home!  No kids were walking to the school bus.   There wasn’t a single car on the street.  Not a sound but the birds chirping.  Nothing.  Where was everyone?   Hello out there, this is Picasso!  

If you can read this, email me at!  I just set up the account, no problem.  No one asked if I was a dog, so I didn’t have to lie.  I’m all alone here, all the doors are locked and I can’t get out! And I’m h-u-u-n-n-g-r-y!!  I know I’m breaking the secret sacred doggie oath, but I’m desperate!  I’m scared and I want breakfast!  So if you can read me please send me an email quick!  I don’t care if you’re a human bean or a cow!  I’ve been running around the house for two hours and everyone is gone.  Gone, gone, gone!! And I’m locked in.  And I’m h-u-u-n-n-g-r-y!
Picasso: Yah! I hear you.  I, too, am without peoples.  I vas haffing a dream dat I vas being chased by a dogcatcher dat looked like Bob Barker und he vas barking, too!  I vas running and running, as fast as a frankfurter dog can, und suddenly I see a brick vall a hundred yards avay. Yah, a red brick vall and den der vall starts coming toward me und der catcher,  he’s getting close, und der vall and der catcher closer und closer und I know in a second I vill be a Frankfurter sandwich! Yah!!  Und den, chust at der final second, der catcher turns into a big steamroller und der vall turns into Oprah Winfrey, und dey are going to crush me into kibbles und bits… und den, vat you tink?  Dey turn into nice people from PETA und ve all sit down und haff a cup of coffee! Yah! Coffee mit strudel!  It vas a good dream after all!

But den, den I voke up und I tink der dream begins all over again!  I don’t haff so fancy a dog bed as you, Picasso.  Mein herrings got mine from der Salvation Army, I’m tinking, because it smelled so good.  My nose put on der register five thousand twenty-six smells all over. Yah! Dat must haff been a very busy bed!  Vell, I got up and stretched like alvays.  First der back legs, VON, TWO, VON, TWO!  Den der front legs, VON, TWO, VON, TWO! Like always. Den der wiener body… CIRCK, CRACK, CRICK, CARACK!  I get at least two inches longer mit dat stretch. Yah! So now comes der scary part.  I run to der Momma’s and Poppa’s room to vake dem up like always and, mein hunt, dey are not dere!  I tink dey must be up already so I run to der odder bedrooms to vake der little nippers, und, hunt in himmel, dey are gone, too!

Den I run down to der kitchen und I don’t smell der morning coffee und no Pop Tarts popping out from der toaster.  I only smell sixteen hundred and forty-five udder smells which don’t mean nutting because all der peoples is missing.  Yah!  Und I’m tinking dis is der same dream I vas haffing und I vill vake up.  Den I try to vake myself up by running into der door of der oven, and OY!  I gave myself a good klop, but still no Momma, Poppa und der nippers.  Den I know I am not dreaming still. You know vat I am feeling now, Picasso?  No, I do not feel lonely.  I feel h-u-u-n-n-g-r-y mit no Momma und Poppa to feed me.  Und, yah, I’m scared too, but mostly h-u-u-n-n-g-r-y!  Den I know I must do something. I must break der doggie secret promise. Yah! Der is notting else to do!  So I climb up on der Poppa’s computer chair und get on der internet. Oh, if my peoples knew I vas vatching dem and could do everyting dey do.  Vat a shock to dere system, I’m betting. Yah!

Den, I look for der news and you know vat, Picasso?  Dere is no news!  Only dis one blog from a hunt named Picasso, und so I am writing and I just vant to say one ting to you, my new friend….. HEELLLP!! Yah! FRANZ
Franz, I’m so relieved to hear from someone even if it’s just a wiener dog (no offense)  At least now I know I’m not crazy!  Just sit tight, I’m getting some more emails.  I’ll get back to you and tell me vere, I mean where, you live. I hope it’s not Dusseldorf!!
Hi Picasso, GeeGee here.  Little beige poodle License #1003526.  I think I’ve seen you out walking.  You have big round spots, right?  You look a little like a piece of modern art.  Am I right?  Ain’t this somethin’?  My peeps are gone, too!  I never thought I would break the secret sacred doggie oath, but what are you gonna do?  This is an emergency!  Yeah, I was hungry too, and I went outside to pee (I have a doggie door and I sleep on a real bed with lots of stuffed, pink toys all around).  My peeps just gave me a little stuffed Angry Bird and it looked so mad I tore it to pieces because I don’t tolerate negative thinking, revenge and all.  I think I know where you live.  I’m gonna come over right now and see if I can set you free!  GeeGee
That’s great, GeeGee! I think I know you, too. You’re kind of cute. I wanted to smell your poo place and learn all about you, but you know… the leash bit. What we put up with!  And we being twice as smart as the Beans.  They think they can yank us around wherever they want cause we’re the ones wearing the collar.  Now where are they when we need them? Picasso
Dude! I saw your blog!  Same deal with me but I’m a street hound.  No fancy bed for me. Any place is good to flop after I do da run-run all day and dig french fries and salad trash from MickeyDee’s dumpster.  But today’s been weird, dawg.  Way weird!  The Humaniacs are gone from the scene, Dude.  I mean real gone!  Not one living stressed-out peoploid did I see today
chasin’ me off their stuff, and no kidzoids throwin’ junk at me and laughin’ cause I wear a backwards baseball cap and a gold chain.  I know I shouldn’t… the sacred doggie code and all that, but dawg, I’m an individualist, you know?  Like outta some Ayn Rand novel.  No secret oath is gonna hold me back, and believe me, chollo, I’ve paid for it!  But they don’t got me yet.  I’m like the John Dillinger of dogs, and today it looks like I’m on top, cause there isn’t a Humonster in sight, anywhere!

When I saw all those fools were gone I figured it was my time to finally let loose.  I mean, LET IT LOOSE!!  Like how we’re way smarter than those dang bipeds but shut it all down to keep alive.  If they knew how smart we really are you think they’d let us breathe?  Or worse, they’d put us to work doin’ some of the dumb things they do.  Yeah, those were some smart
dogs back in Egyptland that figured out the super-secret doggie code.  For sure there woulda been some huge dog-peoploid war if they knew what we really can do. And one thing I know about Humaniacs, you can’t beat ‘em when it comes to war.  Specially if you don’t got no opposable thumbs!

I saw there was no one to stop me so I dug my way into a Barnes and Noble and hacked into their computer system.   I was lookin’ for some answers, budro, know what I’m sayin’?  Well, I was a ding-dong-doggie when all I saw was your scrip.  I mean it was gone!  The wholehuman schizoid thing… I mean all that “Buy this, kill that” jive is history, I’m sayin’.  And
you know, dawg, it proved me right to live by my own rules, cause now all those rule-makin’ fools have left the planet. Now K-9 is King, bro. Know what I’m sayin’, mutt-buggy?  It’s our time to ruckus!  So email me where your pad is and I’ll find you.  I don’t care if you’re in Oshkosh, Okeefenokee or Oswego.  I’ll get there and we’ll p-a-a-r-t-y! Chopper
Guys, I’m starvin’.  My Purina Dog Chow was locked up.  Couldn’t open any doors cause they’re modern, no handles!  Everything’s modern in this house. I think that’s why they picked me at the pound.  Cause I look like a Picasso, sort of.  My real name was Ralph, but they didn’t care, of course, about my lineage way back to Egyptland.  Some kind of strangeness is going on!. All the Beans are gone, I’m alone, I break the secret oath, hear from all of you.  This is a little much, even for a smart dog like me!

I live at 742 Maplecrest, Indianapolis, Indiana. Can you get here?  You’ve got to get me out! I’m h-u-n-n-gry!  Picasso
Yah! I know dat Indianapolis from der famous battleship! I go und get a GPS from der Radio Shack and be der in two shakes of der doggie’s tail!.  Yah!  Franz
I read you 4×4, pard.  I’m not far.  Just gotta finish chewin’ up all the dog trainin’ books in the B&N and I’m bouncin’.  Ah, sweet revenge!  The doggie secret is no mo’.  We can be what we were always meant to be, Masters of the Dog-i-verse!  Now I’m gonna stoke up on some tempeh for the trip and put this show on the road! Adios! Chopper