Just Brent

Buster and the plunger!

2014-06-12T16:54:00.000-07:00

Well Gang, Buster Posey has been at it again, making me look like a very well behaved pooch! The Old Lady just loves complaining about him. Here is her latest complaint!

Have you ever wondered if dogs have an imagination? Like when as puppies they play fight with lots of growling and gnashing of teeth do they not imagine themselves to be the biggest bad ass wrestler pup on the block? And when after their bath they run around the yard like a gymnast jumping over small bushes and garden walls, doing mid air flips and then stop, effortlessly do a self stack. Have they not imagined themselves at the Olympics and now give you that look of "Was that not the most perfect performance ever?"
Then there are those special instances when one of your dog crew decides, on his own, to pick up a rather large and disgusting drain pipe from a pile of pipes that was removed from the floor of your kitchen earlier that day. (We are doing a Kitchen re-modeling....pray for me!) He then proceeds to parade around the back yard with the five foot by six inch pipe in his mouth with his head held high and his tail erect. Do you think he is imagining that he is a prehistoric wolf and that he is showing off his kill to the rest of the pack? (who by the way are snoozing in the shade of the plum tree and could care less about it) Then later that day when he is sly enough to capture a well used toilet plunger from the garage and you are chasing him around the back yard yelling "Buster Posey Burnett" drop it! (And yes it's true that if you use their last name, then they know you are seriously ticked off!) But does said dog think, "She is just trying to steal my Tyrannosaurus bone from me" and then runs faster? But moments later as he flips it in the air and catches it plunger end in his mouth and then starts to chase after you, as he munches on the rubber of the well used plunger, do you not imagine that he is an alien dog from another planet far...far....so very far away and for the sake of your sanity "Would someone pleeeease beam him up!"

Tails of Buster Posey Boy Boxer Dog and The Bicycle

2014-05-23T19:58:00.000-07:00

Okay so it sounded like a good idea at the time. For my Birthday last month I got a bicycle and a “high end” dog lead for the bike. I was going to bond with my dogs while exercising them! I might even save some money! Which I didn't 'cause a bike plus helmet plus high end bike dog lead.....well over the $500.00 a canine tread mill would have had cost me....but of course we were going to bond by spending quality time together! I had taken my boy Charlie out and he was very well behaved with meaningful eye contact being made between us. Biscuit, was a real angel, we went slower and enjoyed the view and smells of the neighborhood after a light rain. When Biscuit and I returned home it was beginning to sprinkle again so my plan was to put away the bike and go inside for some hot chocolate.....that was when Buster Posey made met me at the gate.....with those sad "you love them more than me" eyes. Guilt is a mighty tool in the canine psyche of "How to Get Your Way With Your Humans Every Time!" So of course I turned the bike around and hooked the boy up to it. Yes I did have a moment of "What the Hell are you thinking Susan this is Buster," but it passed quickly as I looked down into those dark brown eyes of his. Soon we were the picture of canine human bonding as we went down the street , older woman on a bike, younger dog running smoothly next to her in the rain.....well sort of.....for a very short moment. We were headed in a forward motion when Buster decided he wanted to go sideways down the street. There he was keeping pace while doing a paw over paw sideways gait. With the rain coming down, I must admit with his agility of sideways paw steps, Buster reminded me of Gene Kelly in Singing In The Rain. “I'm singin' in the rain. Just singin' in the rain. What a glorious feeling, And I'm happy again.” I hummed the next few lines when I noted that we were gaining speed….rather rapidly….and the rain was coming down a bit harder. I quickly glanced down at B.P. and I no longer saw a vision of Gene Kelly, no to my horror he had become more of a Mylie Cyrus, naked except for his collar, tongue hanging out. He had the “high end” dog lead, firmly in the grasp of his jaws and was chewing on it as he pulled me toward a busy intersection. A maneuver that the video that came with the “high end” bicycle dog lead said was impossible! Obviously they haven’t met Buster Posey! In my head the joyful notes of Singing In The Rain, were now replaced with “I came in like a wrecking ball. You left me crashing in a blazing fall.” I hit the brakes hard as I slid into the intersection. My life was flashing before my eyes. Was this to be the end of me? Was I to meet my maker, dressed in an old boxer sweat shirt, grandma jeans and mismatched socks (I really needed to do my laundry) being drug through the streets by a Mylie Cyrus wanna-be Boxer named Buster Posey? On my third scream of “Buster Stop!” the little bugger made eye contact with me and…..stopped. There was only one car in the intersection and he was making a right turn so any bike vs. auto contact was avoided. To be honest I was a bit shaken as I slowly walked my bike back to the house dragging Buster behind me. After parking my bike in the garage I lead Buster to the back yard. As I closed the gate behind him, he looked up at me with his tongue hanging out, (Mylie would have been proud!) and with a mighty swipe of his tongue, he licked the lock on the gate and strutted off. In my head I again heard Mylie, “He came in like a wrecking ball” but the visual in my head was that of Buster being Buster, chomping on my new high end bicycle dog lead, running full speed ahead into heaven knows what! God bless Buster Posey’s Guardian Canine Angels. He keeps them very busy!

2014-05-23T14:37:00.002-07:00

Hey Guys!!!

I know it's been a long time since you have heard from me but I am alive and doing well. The Old Lady and I get along pretty well now as she has someone else to complain about. His name is Buster Posey and he is very Naughty! The Old Girl writes about him on face book. Since a lot of you are not on face book, I've decided to share Buster's stories with you so tune in occasionally to find out what The Old Girl has to complain about now.......I'm just glad it's not me!
XOXO
Brent

Just Ask Brent

2011-11-22T01:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Just Brent,

I'm hoping you can help me and in doing so help canines everywhere. My problem is I do not like it when my humans insist on giving me a bath once a week! Between the soap in my eyes and the blow dryer up my bum I feel totally violated! It is so unnecessary as I consider myself a very hygienic individual. It's not like I'm working up a sweat lying around in the yard all day. Since I'm not a digger, I'm not exposed to much dirt or mud. Unlike yourself I am not a "Treat" partaker, so for the most part, my breath is doggy fresh. I even take extra care to make sure that my personals are clean on a regular basis. Although, to be honest, this particular hygienic maneuver is not always appreciated by my humans. The point is Mr. Brent, I am trying my best to stay clean and now I'm having nightmares every Friday night 'cause I know what my humans have in store for me come Saturday morning!

Please Help!

Sincerely,

Taylor, boy Schnauzer, age 3 years.

Dear Mr. Taylor,

Jeepers! Your folks bathe you on a weekly basis? I thought I had it bad with The Old Lady dousing me with a cold garden hose every couple of weeks and then wiping me down with a Wet Wipe in between. But I do feel your pain Mr. Taylor as I myself am very anti bathing. I too find it an unnecessary human ritual. What form of pleasure humans derive from soaking a dog in any aqueous solution is beyond me! Of course, unless you've been skunked and then I would consider it a necessary medicinal procedure. But I am just one dog so I decided to inquire, of my fellow canines, their feelings on the subject.

First off I asked Benny the Beagle, who lives next door, about his feelings on canine sudsing. He said he had not had a bath since he was but a mere pup. How could that be I wondered, as Benny always has a fresh Egyptian Musk with a slight hint of Vanilla fragrance about him. "No", he continued "I like to take a shower with my man human once or twice a week." As I tried not to envision Benny in the shower with a naked Mr. Burly (his man human) Benny added that he likes the feel of the warm water flowing on his back after a long night of patrolling the backyard looking for possible intruders. (Benny likes to consider himself quite the guard dog!) After an uncomfortable silence (what does one say after such a revelation as Benny's?) I bid Benny a good day and went in search of Moose the Bloodhound who lives around the corner.

I found Moose snoozing on his front porch. After I barked out his name a few times he finally woke up. When I explained my quest to Moose he motioned for me to follow him around to the back where his humans wouldn't hear us. Moose then explained to me that he never bathes. His humans think that it will have a negative effect on his ability to follow a scent when they are out hunting. Moose then told me that a bath probably wouldn't make any difference to his snout but who was he to question a good thing. "Of course" he added "if I were ever skunked, I would take a bath as I would consider it a medicinal necessity." That Moose is one smart dog! He also told me he occasionally enjoys running in the sprinklers with his little humans and swimming in the neighbors pool when they're not home. Moose said "That's plenty of wetness for one dog!" I share his view on this subject!

My last inquiry was of Bridget the Poodle who lives across the street. Bridget always smells of Lavender or Jean Nate. She stated that she is groomed every two weeks by Diana her canine barber at Le Salon. Bridget said "I like the pampering I receive there. Diana is a whiz with the scissors and I always come out looking quite smart if I do say so myself!" I had to agree with Bridget as she always looks very stylish . "But what I like best" Bridget added softly, "Is when my human girl Sophie, plays dog groomer and freshens me up with her Grandmother's Jean Nate after bath splash, in between visits to Le Salon." Darned if that Bridget isn't one lucky canine! I wish I had a girl like Sophie. All I have is The Old Lady whose idea idea of freshening me up before company comes over to visit, is to chase me around the house with a can of Yucky Oder Be Gone!

So my dear Mr. Taylor this is my advice to you:

1. On Friday nights encourage your humans to order out for pizza! While your folks are munching away on their crunchy Italian pie make sure that they are also enjoying a glass or two or three of a California Petite Sirah. This is a delightful wine with a spicy, plummy flavour that will pair well with the pizza. Also, with an alcoholic content of 16% plus, if your humans consume enough of it, they will not care about you or your bathing needs the next morning. So I say Salute!

2.If you are one who enjoys the therapeutic benefits of canine aroma therapy AKA a good roll in a putrid area of the yard, you must put a stop to this time honored activity. Although as a dog I can attest to the benefits of this tradition, most humans haven't a clue why we do it. As you are well aware we, who have a intense sense of olfacation, may find the fragrance of a sun dried earth worm to be not only pleasant but quite stimulating. Humans on the other hand with their limited olfactory receptors perceive the odor in a negative connotation. Often after I have enjoyed a good roll, The Old Lady will respond with a rude comment such as, "You stink!" and go for the garden hose! On the other hand when she loads up on her Old Lady cologne, sprays, or lotions she thinks she smells great! Little does she know that it totally overwhelms my sensitive canine snout and leaves me in a nasal haze for hours. And don't get me started on those scented candles which are suppose to make the house smell like she's been baking all day instead of on the phone! Humans just don't seem to have an appreciation of a good earthy fragrance so I say, "Put a hold on the Roll!"

3. Although it might be tempting. DO NOT EAT THE SOAP! Yes it can be very tasty going down and yes being able to burp up bubbles and blow them out your snout is very impressive and yes it will even delay them giving you a bath. BUT IT IS NOT WORTH IT! Believe you me, as tasty as those fragrant spheres of suds are going down they are one vicious, never ending pop coming out the other end! Which if you are locked in your crate/jail and The Old Lady doesn't believe you when you bark that you need to go out again, can be disastrous!

In conclusion....if all else fails Mr. Taylor, do the Oh so sorry did I get you wet? Shake! I prefer to do it when The Old Girl is right up against me with the hose. I do a fast 90 degree right turn which knocks the hose from her hand and soaks her shoes. As she bends down to pick it up I move in closer and shake myself for all I'm worth! Although the Oh so sorry did I get you wet? Shake!, does not stop them from bathing you, it does give you a canine moment of sheer delight! There is nothing more inspiring than to see a human screaming about how cold the water is as they wipe the soap bubbles from their face!

My best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!
email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Brent and The Very Big Squash

2011-10-02T20:48:00.000-07:00

Hey Girls it's Me Brent!

Okay, so his name is Charley and The Old Lady and her friends think he's adorable. I personally thought his name should have been, Hardly. As in he Hardly knows anything, can Hardly do anything right and he's a big pain in my Hardly there, derriere! To be honest, I truly do not understand what humans have for babies and puppies. Both always want something and neither can do much of anything for themselves. But more about Charley The Hardly.

The Old Lady was in a kitchen cleaning mode (and we weren't even having company over!) when she came out into the back yard with a very large butternut squash. The color was a cross between a mango tango and a burnt sienna. The large squash had been sitting on the kitchen counter for the last three weeks. I know because I had been eyeing it in hopes The Old Lady was going to make something creative like Curried Butternut Squash Soup or Butternut Squash Risotto with Chives and leave it on the counter to "cool" after baking. But who am I kidding. Anymore The Old Girl avoids cooking if at all possible. Her idea of an exotic home cooked meal is a trip to The Olive Garden with The Old Man.

As The Old Lady stepped out on to the patio she called out, in a very syrupy sweet voice, one that I haven't heard come out of her since I was but a mere pup myself, "Charley, come here Charley, look what I have for you to play with. " Well the silly little scallywag comes tearing out of the house like The Old Girl had a juicy steak bone for him instead of a dumb raw cucurbita. He circles her with his tail wagging so hard that his butt look like a hula girl. Of course The Old Lady was delighted by his behavior and bend down to give him a kiss on his mug just as Little Mr. Hardly jumps up to slather her with a big wet one on her mug. What occurred next was one of those moments in life where your just dying to say "Saw that coming", but choose to hold your tongue out of fear for your life! There was a loud smacking sound as Mr. Hardly's block head made hard contact with The Old Lady's chin. After a tense moment of silence The Old Girl let out a few profane superlatives as she dropped the squash, covered her now slightly bloodied mouth and made a bee line for the house. As the back door slammed shut behind her, I walked slowly toward the now some what bruised and battered butternut squash which was lying on it's side in front of Hardly Charley. The goofy pup was just staring dumbfounded at the squash like he could not comprehend what had just occurred.

"Well you really screwed the pooch on that one, Hardly" I stated nonchalantly. He looked up at me with a look of both confusion and fear. It was then that I noted he had evidently bit his own tongue when he and The Old Lady had knocked heads. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he cried out, "It bit me, that big orange thing bit me!" With that he tucked his stubby tail between his legs and ran for cover under the ferns by the pond. I paused looking down at the battered butternut squash and then back at the quivering ferns that were now covering Hardly. As I advanced towards the now terrified pup I realized that Hardly was actually scared of the butternut! It only took me a second to realize that this might be my opportunity to show my superior intellect and athletic abilities to the silly boy, so I barked at him to stay covered and I would protect him !

Turning toward the offending squash I advanced with a swagger that would have made John Wayne proud. My lips were curled in a snarl as I barked out threats of impending harm upon the squash. I showed the agility of a panther as I pounced upon it with jaws spread wide like a great white, I bit into the skin of the butternut ripping out a large chunk of it's succulent flesh. I swallowed the piece whole for dramatic effect.

Glancing over at the still quivering ferns I noted that Hardly had stuck his snout out between the fronds and was sniffing the air as if to try and detect the scent of the squash from it's now gaping whole . Feeling rather saucy and wanting to further impress the pup I danced around the butternut pouncing on it at every turn while barking ferociously at it in the same manner I had seen The Big Dog Doc do to a treed opossum last week. After every full turn I would bend down and take another bite out of the squash. Tossing my head to & fro, I let the juices run down my chin as I caught sight of Hardly watching me. He was now sitting very still in front of the ferns with his mouth wide open and eyes as big as saucers, staring at me in awe . Fueled by his admiration for my deft movements and tactical expertise I grabbed what was left of the butternut squash with my mouth and shook it like a rag doll. There was squash and juice flying everywhere as I flipped up the last chunk of the butternut and swallowed it whole.

I knew that I had really impressed Charley The Hardly, with my display of canine savagery, by the way he just sat there staring at me in disbelief. I began to think though that maybe I had gone too far, when a look of pure terror crossed his face, as he looked up above me as if in prayer. Turning and looking up I saw that it wasn't an angel Hardly was looking at! No it was The Old Lady standing over me. She had evidently come out of the house in the midst of my frenzy and was now standing behind me. With bits of squash and splattered butternut juice all down the front of her, The Old Girl glared at me as she held an ice pack to her lower lip.

It was at that moment that I realized that I was in a no win situation. So I did what any other American Bred dog would do. I ran! In any other incidence The Old Lady probably would have given me chase. But I do believe that she was too afraid of slipping and sliding on the remnants of the squash and all the juices to do so. So she just stood her ground and yelled at me. "Brent what did you do? Look at this mess!" She screamed this out in a very shrill nasty voice that I am sure the neighbors did not appreciate. I was very embarrassed for her, so feeling her need to be alone I hid myself well behind the bushes in the corner of the yard. I watched from my vantage point as The Old Girl swept up the bits of lifeless squash and hosed down the last traces of the juicy cucurbita.

After The Old Lady, was done she just shook her head and made little clicking sounds with her tongue, like a rabid wood pecker, as she went back into the house. It was actually rather sad as she had a look of defeat about her. The Old Girl has just never had an appreciation for any of my talents! I waited a few more minutes before exiting my hiding place to make sure that The Old Girl wasn't going to come out for another round of "What have you done now Brent!" I caught sight of Charley The Hardly, as I rounded the patio wall while heading for the water bucket. Devouring a squash can make you really thirsty! He was right where I had left him, just sitting there staring at the now very wet but very clean patio. As I came upon him he looked up at me with his big wide eyes and whispered, "You killed it! You weren't even afraid, you just killed it!"

I looked long and deep into his large innocent puppy eyes and realized that at sometime every kid, whether they be human or canine needs a hero in their life so looking him straight in the eye I said, "That's right Kid, I did kill it! But how's about you and me keep this whole incident just between the two of us. We don't want to scare any of the others. Okay?" Hardly shook his head yes as he followed me to the water bucket. I could see from the panting and his tongue hanging out that the events of the afternoon had made him quite thirsty. But when we got to the bucket instead of rushing me for the water he just stepped back and waited till I was done drinking. It's the kind of thing I do for my Mom Biscuit and The Big Dog Doc to show my respect.

After a very long drink I realized I was a bit tired from all of the hoopla so I went over and stretched out on the grass for a snooze. Soon Hardly Charley came up and laid down next to me. He was quiet for a few moments which I liked 'cause the sun was making me very sleepy. I was just starting to doze off when I heard him say in his soft puppy voice "You know, your really cool". I opened one eye and looked at him thoughtfully. "Your right Charley", I whispered "I am", and with that we both let out a long deep sigh and closed our eyes. As I drifted off, I could feel his puppy bumm against my back and heard him start to softly snore. To be honest.....I kinda liked it! It was a good twenty minutes of blissful peace before I heard the back door slam and knew it was time for me to skedaddle 'cause I knew The Old Girl would be gunning for me and I'd be darned if I was going to let her catch me snoozing!

Well Girls that's it for now. But you know, I've been thinking. I am going to call Hardly, just Charley from now on 'cause evidently he does seem to know a few things after all!

Best to you,
Brent The Boy Boxer Dog

Brent and the Very Bad Idea

2011-01-07T19:45:00.000-08:00

Hey Girls it's me Brent!

Okay so even if it wasn't The Old Lady's idea, I still blame her!
What was she thinking or obviously not! But let us start at the beginning where all bad ideas start! The Old Lady's son, The Actor, was visiting her one day. She is always very pleased to see him and gushes all over him, like a fire hydrant in Brooklyn on a hot summers day. She had fed him and pampered him and listened to all of his stories about his escapades as a struggling actor when he started to whine about how lonely he was. He told The Old Girl that with his girlfriend out on tour, he was all alone in his apartment. The Old Girl was being very sympathetic to his plight when he suddenly spied me sitting quietly in the corner, looking quite regal if I do say so myself, on a large fluffy dog pillow. "I do believe if I had a dog for company I would not be half as lonely." The Actor said this with a tear in his voice that was so well executed that even I felt sorry for him. The Old Lady sat up in her chair with a look of disbelief on her face. "You're not asking for one of my dogs are you?" she asked.

"Well of course not The Biscuit or The D.O.C. I was thinking maybe you might let Brent come and stay with me for awhile." The Actor's tone was reminiscent of an eight year old boy pining for a puppy in a pet store window. But The Old Lady was not so easily moved. "I don't know if that would be such a good idea," she replied. "Brent likes being here with his Mom Biscuit. He is a bit of a Mama's boy if you know what I mean." (Okay, so even though it's true, she didn't have to say it out loud!)
"Oh, he'll be fine with me. I'll take real good care of him." Even though The Actor's words sounded sincere The Old Lady still looked skeptical. "Pleeeeassse," The Actor moaned, "I hate being alone!" I could tell by the softening of the wrinkles around her mouth that The Old Girl might give in. Then The Actor sealed my fate by jumping up, throwing his arms around The Old Lady and whispering in her ear "Oh Suzie Q, please can't Brent come and stay with me for awhile?"

As they were packing me into The Actors 2009 silver Mustang with the V8 engine, 300 horse under the hood and 18 inch chrome wheels, I decided maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
I had always fancied myself a performance sort of dog and now I finally had the appropriate ride to reflect my personal style! The Old Lady was going over my diet, when she again reminded The Actor that "Brent needs to go out first thing in the morning, and you must never, ever yell at him." (Well obviously The Old Girl learned her lesson after the Grey furry Slipper incident.) The Actor nodded his head yes and mumbled something about "Why would I ever yell at him?" The Old Girl gave The Actor a kiss on the cheek, told him to call her if there was any problem and then waved good-bye. I suddenly felt rather free. Of course I would miss my Mom Biscuit.....but alas a weekend without The Old Lady!

We arrived at The Actors apartment without incident. He immediately let me out of his car and led me onto the "Apartment" all 650 square feet of it! Wowziers! And I thought my crate/jail was small! The Actor went out of his way to make me feel welcomed.....at first. After showing me around the apartment he offered me a bowl of water and then took me for a short walk around the block. I had never been in the "Big City" before and to be honest I found my new surroundings a bit intimidating at first. There were lots of cars, lots of people and lots of noise!
The Actor allowed me to sleep in bed with him the first night and the next day we just hung out at "The Pad". A few actor friends came over in the afternoon to go over a script they were working on. The Guys were all really nice to me and said how cool they thought I was. At last I was finally being appreciated! That night The Actor set his alarm for 6:30 in the morning. He told me he had an audition for a musical in the morning and wanted to get up early to exercise his voice before singing in front of the director. I didn't mind us turning in early as I was actually rather tired after a full day of hanging out at "The Pad".

It was the loud but rather clever use of profanity that awakened me the next morning. What I could glean from all of the swearing and dramatic gasps and groans was that we had over slept! The Actor jumped out of bed, grabbed my collar and shoved me into my crate/jail. "Your going to have to wait until I get dressed before I can take you out!" I stood there dumbfounded as I watched him dress and then trot off to the loo . Had not The Old Lady told/warned him that I needed to go out FIRST thing in the morning? It was the flush of the toilet that sent me over the edge. I could hold out no longer! I was in full stream in the middle of my crate, when The Actor finally returned to the room. He let out a scream that any horror flick diva would be proud of. Then he asked in a hoarse whisper, "What are you doing?" I was pretty sure he knew what I was doing as he had just done the same thing himself!

But it was his next response that was even a surprise to me! "Well then I guess your going to have to wait on your breakfast until I come back because now I have to clean up this mess!" He uttered these words in the most acidic of tones and with a nasty look on his face that was very reminiscent of The Old lady." I was trying to explain to him that The Old Girl had warned him that once I'm up I'm READY to go! But all he did was yell at me to "Stop barking".
After a slew of more profanities and dramatic sighs The Actor cleaned out my crate/jail and then got himself ready for his audition. He quickly left the apartment in a huff, leaving me alone without even turning on the TV or the radio for company! I was soon feeling very sad and missing my Mom Biscuit. I knew that my Mom Biscuit would be very upset if she found out how I was being treated! I curled up on the tea towel that The Actor had thrown in to my crate after Pinesol-ing the inside. I awoke hours later to the slam of the front door. From the actors attitude and continued use of profanities under his breath I gathered that the audition had not gone well. I stood up in my crate/jail and stretched realizing just how hungry I had become. I called out to The Actor, but he just ignored me. Now this was not going to do! Even The Old Lady would not be pleased with how The Actor was treating me. I was just about ready to resort to howling when The Actor came and let me out. I followed him into the kitchen where a large deli sandwich and a cold beverage in a brown bottle set on the table. Well now that was better! The Actor obviously regretting his earlier transgressions had bought me lunch!

I was making a bee line for the spread on the table when The Actor cut me off by sitting down in chair in front of the eats. It was with his first bite, of the peppered turkey with provolone on a poppy seed Kaiser roll, that I realized this lunch was not for me! This guy was, not only, not going to feed me, but he was going to eat his lunch in front of me! The Actor had a smear of mustard on his chin as he said with a mouth full of provolone and turkey. "Don't worry Dude, I'll feed you as soon as I'm done here." Don't worry Dude? Okay so first he makes me pee in my crate/jail, then he withholds my morning nourishment, next he leaves me alone for hours without any form of entertainment and now he's forgotten that my name is Brent? Oh no, this just wasn't going to work out in oh so many ways! As The Actor got up from the table to get a napkin from the counter I noticed that the kitchen door next the table was slightly opened (evidently to let out the odors of a morning gone bad) and that with The Actor over at the sink there was nothing standing between me and freedom except for a peppered turkey with provolone on a poppy seed kaiser bun! I glanced up at The Actor who was wiping the mustard from his mug. He was ignoring me for the moment so I knew I would have to make my move now! I skirted around the table with the agility of a cat. I was to the back door before The Actor knew what was happening. I glanced over my shoulder as I heard him utter "Oh F-U-D-G-E!" (But of course what he actually uttered had no reference to chocolate.) With the swiftness of a gazelle I snatched the sandwich off of the table and was headed out the door. I was half way down the flight of stairs before I heard The Actor "Dude" exiting the kitchen door.

With all the clamor I figured he must have tripped over a chair or two on his way out. I was quickly out of the patio area and to the front sidewalk just as The Actor finished off the stairs. I glanced to my right and then to my left. On our walks we had always gone to the left. So I decided this would probably be the best choice as directly in front of me was a very busy street with lots of traffic and lots of noise and who knows what was to the right! As I turned and started running I heard The Actor yell out "Brent, Brent, stop!" Well at least he had finally remembered my name! I was headed for the corner where a gentleman was standing obviously waiting for the traffic to clear so he could cross the street. I ran up to him and stepped into the street so I would be facing him as I inquired if he knew the way back to my home. As soon as I stepped into the street The Actor let out a blood curdling scream, "Brent Noooooooooooooo!" I looked back at The Actor who was running as fast as a human possibly can with a stubbed toe and skinned knees (The poor boy had evidently slipped coming down the stairs after me. Not that I felt any sympathy for him). I looked up at the man on the corner who I noted was eying my turkey and provolone rather suspiciously. Well I'd be darned if I was going to share my hard earned sandwich with a perfect stranger. So I jumped back on the sidewalk rounded the corner and took off down a bike path. It was nice here with patches of grass and shade trees.

I was clipping along at a rather fast trot when I noticed three male youths sitting under a shade tree talking. I thought about pausing in my escape to ask them why they weren't in school when I heard The Actor yelling from behind me "Stop him!" At this point I must admit I was a bit impressed with his perseverance. The boys all jumped to their feet when they heard him yell. Two of them looked at me and ran the other way. But the third boy came toward me saying, "Hey big guy what are you doing out here?" He grabbed me by the collar and held on until The Actor caught up with us. I figured that since the boy did not try to snatch the turkey and provolone from my mug that he probably thought he was doing the right thing by stopping me. So much for good intentions!

After thanking the boy The Actor dragged me back to his apartment. I feared for my life as I thought he was going to be really angry with me like his mother The Old Lady would have been. But all he did was put me in my crate/jail while he cleaned up his scrapped knees. I finished off the sandwich and waited quietly for him to let me out again which he did in about five minutes. I followed him into the kitchen where he sat down on a chair and I laid down in front of him. "Okay Brent (good he still remembered my name) I probably deserved that. My Mom said to never yell at you and that you do have to go out first thing in the morning. But you must never run away from me again! Do you have any idea what The Old Lady would do to me if anything happened to you?" What? Was I hearing correctly? The Actor was afraid of the Old Lady, just like me! Maybe there was hope for him.

The Actor stood up and went over to the cupboard and took out a bowl. He sat back down and poured some of the beverage from his brown bottle into the bowl and placed it in front of me.
I eyed him suspiciously but he payed me no heed as he took a few gulps from the brown bottle and then belched loudly. I sniffed at the bowl. It smelled rather tasty so I lapped down the contents and then I belched rather loudly. The Actor laughed and then patted me on the head. "Next time we'll split a Heineken Sport!" Even though it was obvious The Actor was going to have problems remembering my name, I doubted that he was going to forget today!
That night as we spooned in bed I thought about the events of the day and relationships. It made me smile when I remembered that even though The Old Lady had warned The Actor that I was to be taken out first thing in the morning and to never raise his voice to me he had ignored her. I guess at a certain age, humans feel the need to try to stand alone, apart from their parents, and whether they make mistakes or even fall down it's all a part of their growing up.

As I closed my eyes and let out a deep doggie sigh (the kind that our humans love to hear) I thought about my own Mom and the lessons she has taught me. It would be good to go back home tomorrow and be with her even if it meant having to have The Old Lady boss me around. To be honest, I had begun to miss my Mom Biscuit and I knew she was probably missing me. She would love hearing about my adventures with The Actor and would be amazed at my courage and the way I had navigated through the streets of the big city . Unlike The Actor I like living with my Mom. In fact I hope I never have to leave her again. Well maybe just a few times to come and visit The Actor again. You know once you've scared the ebbie geebies out of a human.....they are yours for ever! Besides that I am looking forward to tasting a Heineken!

Well that's all for now girls, but don't forget to write in if you need some advice!
My Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

2011-01-03T13:39:00.002-08:00

Dear Just Brent,

My Ma'am (AKA human mom) has been reading me your blog and I think you are very smart! I'm hoping that you can help me with my problem. I have the opportunity to compete in a very big dog show this month. I've been told this is a very special show and that I have to be on my best behavior. Problem is my best behavior isn't always so very good. I have a tendency to show people how much I love them by getting very excited and jumping up to hug and kiss them. I guess for some reason that is frowned upon! Anyone who knows us boxers, understands that this is how we express our total joy in meeting new people. We are just a "paws on" kinda breed! How can I keep my excitability under control and not embarrass my Ma'am if it turns out I can go to the show?

Yours Truly,
Fergie, Boxer (Show Girl, 1 year old )

Dear Fergie,

Jeepers! Are you related to that super fine girl singer Stacy Fergerson, star of my forever most favorite show, Kids Incorporated? She rocked on that show, with her long blond hair and those super cool outfits. Man I would love to meet her and be able to lick her hand!
To be honest Ms Fergie, at first, I was not going to respond to your letter. When I read that you were a show girl, I thought that you might be snooty like my cousin Sonie (AKA Princess Champion). But then I read that you think I am smart so I felt it was my duty to help you!
Although I have never been to a dog show personally, my Mom Biscuit has told me plenty of stories about what goes on at them so I feel that I am well able to advise you.

So Ms Fergie, here is my advice to you:

1. As you have stated, we Boxers are a joyful breed who love to jump and dance when ever we meet new folks. To downsize your enthusiasm as you walk into the show ring, I would encourage you to envision that all of the humans are in their birthday suits! My Mom Biscuit said that she did this as a pup when she felt nervous about impressing the judge. For the most part it worked out very well for her. I myself tried the "Humans in their B.D. Suits Vision" when The Old Lady was upset with me over a missing loaf of Banana Nut Bread (Yes I did eat it and yes it was delicious!) I did not want to appear guilty so during her interrogation of me, I envisioned The Old Girl in the buff . Well needless to say I laughed so hard I almost fell over! This infuriated The Old Lady, as she thought I was being insolent and showed no remorse over the missing loaf. So she put in my crate/jail for a very lengthy time out! There for Ms Fergie remember, when you are using this technique to try and quash your excitement in the ring, do not envision anyone who looks like The Old Lady in the nude as it will make you laugh really hard!

2. Pursue a hobby! I find that as a dog having a hobby is very beneficial as it can both relax and help you to focus when under stress. Of course as a member of the canine community, finding the right hobby is not always as easy as one might think! My first hobby was collecting Beetles. At first, I found it do-able and cost effective. After collecting the locals such as, the California prionus and one of my favorites the Phoracantha Recurva, a very handsome fellow originally from Australia, I started (illegally per the Internet) importing from out of state! As my obsession grew I went for the more exotic ones like the Alabama Pincher and the Black Blister, and (my eventual downfall ) the Checkered Beetle.

To make a long story short, I had my beetle gang out in the back yard for some fun in the sun when I heard The Old Lady approaching. I had always kept the gang in separate match boxes but in a panic I tried to quickly scoop them up into an empty Milk Bone box. I had them rounded up and was gently nudging the last guys in with my snout when the Alabama Pincher grabbed a hold of my right, nostril while the Black Blister slathered my left nostril with his toxic blistering secretion. (Needless to say I will, in the future, read the fine print when purchasing ANYTHING on the Internet!) I didn't know what to do so I licked my snout hard and swallowed them both whole. My eyes were watering and my nose was running as I grabbed the Milk Bone Box, with the rest of the gang, and headed for my secret corner in the yard where I left them out of view from The Old Lady. A few hours later, with a hideously swollen snout and very achy belly, I returned to my secret corner calling out "It's Okay guys I'm back!" When I tore open the Milk Bone box I was horrified not to see the whole gang, but only a very bloated Checkered Beetle with a smile like a Cheshire cat on his face! (I will also in the future, before making a purchase, look up words I am not familiar with like Predaceous).
So my dear Ms Fergie, stay away from live critters and the Internet when picking a hobby! I say start with a rock collection but I warn you not to eat any of the white sparkly rocks. Even though they look like candy they are not and they can be very painful upon exiting!

3. If you find yourself swept up in the moment and doing the boxer wiggle dance in the middle of the show ring when you are suppose to be quietly stacked and looking totally magnificent, simply look up at your Ma'am with adoration in your eyes that say "I love you girl!" This will let your Ma'am know that you really tried hard but your joy and love of the moment were just too much. Then as you exit the ring, try and wag your tail extra hard and look really cute. This will encourage your Ma'ams friends to comment that even though you were naughty, you were really cute! Your Ma'am will forgive you instantly 'cause all human moms love to hear how cute their dog is!

Good Luck in the ring Ms Fergie!

Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life?

"Just Ask Brent "
emails questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

"Just Ask Brent"

2010-11-27T20:59:00.001-08:00

Dear Just Brent,

I have a minor dilemma of the utmost importance. First let me clear up a few things so that there is no confusion. I adore my human Margaret/AKA Maggie. She is not only the best human a dog could ask for but she is also my best friend, as she likes to talk to me about everything. However, there lies my problem Mr. Brent, she insists on talking to me as if I am a small child. Since I am a Boston terrier and small in physical stature, this does not reflect my mental capacity. What my Maggie girl doesn't know is that as soon as she falls asleep at night, I squirm my way out of her grip and head straight to the Internet in order to quench my intellectual thirst with as many news sites as my paws can click (and of course a little entertainment, which is where your blog comes in). However, my sweet Maggie continues to insist on dressing me up like a little sailor or a pumpkin or with the change of the season, an elf! I have more than my dashing good looks and the ability to pull off just about any costume she can come up with, it’s just that I would much rather be picking out a financial port folio with her instead of buying the latest Paris Hilton inspired "Canine Cuties" outfit. I don't look "hot", I am hot, as in over heated.
Help! I'm melting in Frustration,
Buttercup, Boston Terrier age 8

Dear Mr. Cup,
With a name like Buttercup I feel your frustration! But wowziers, I've always dreamt of playing dress up at Halloween! It's just The Old Lady is too cheap. I 've imagined myself a pirate (kinda like a Boxer Johnny Depp!) and I would have a really big sword and boots and a long purple sash and I would say things like "Aye-Aye Matie!" I would be an outstanding pirate! My ship would be called "The Sea Biscuit" and I would have a boxer wench at every port, who I would sing to "Boxer wench, you’re a fine girl what a good wife you would be, but my love, my life and my lady is the sea”, and they would all idolize me and think me……amazing! But I digress as this is not about me.....it's about you Buttercup and your frustrations not mine!
I wasn't sure how to take aim at your situation so I conversed with my next door neighbor Benny the Beagle. He was a bumble bee for Halloween two years ago (I thought he looked rather dashing as a fuzzy anthropod!) Benny said that while as a Thespian he enjoyed the challenge of portraying the Bombus Sterestris, he found the stinger to be a bit of a nuisance when trying to sit down. He said he feels that dressing up at Halloween is the patriotic thing to do, so he does not have a problem with it once a year. But he said "Do it more than that?"and I quote, "Hell No!"
I then queried Bridget the Poodle who lives across the street. Bridget loves to play dress up with her human girl Sophie, who is six years old in human years. Every year at Halloween Bridget comes trick-or-treating with Sophie. This year they dressed up in look alike fairy costumes. When I answered the door, with The Old Lady, I tried to pretend I didn't recognize them. But I could tell it was Bridget because her poofy poodle tail was sticking out from underneath her pink wings and she started wagging it when she saw me. Today, when I asked Bridget about wearing costumes she told me that dress up is lots of fun, especially when she and Sophie play princess or bride dog. Bridget also said that while she does get "hot" at times while in costume, she loves the way that her Sophie looks at her when they play. She said "hot" or not and I quote, "It's well worth it!"

So my dear Mr. Cup this is my advice to you:
1. As we interact with our humans we all have to decide what is "Well worth it" and what is a "Hell No!" situation. It's the give and take of our canine/human relationship that makes our daily life what it is. As a mature pooch I encourage you to pick your battles with Maggie. You need to choose what is more important to you, making Miss Maggie happy with dress up or your free time on the Internet. I myself have had to do this at times like when I have chosen to refrain from partaking of "treat" in exchange for, a hopefully blind eye from The Old Lady when I'm taking, a snooze on the couch. While dressing up as a sailor might be uncomfortable at times you might think of it as an opportunity to not only please your Maggie but also catch the eye of a cute Beagle or Schnauzer girl, as I hear they have a thing for sailors!
2. When your Maggie is reading the morning newspaper take the opportunity to guide her to a financial gain either through the chew & tear/clipping of dog food coupons or a paw print on a wise buy in the business section of the paper. She will think you a very clever pup and possibly let you go naked for the day! You know Mr. Cup, we dogs often have to take the lead with our humans in order for them to have a more successful and fulfilling life. Either through a long walk, a fast paced game of fetch or if all else fails a good chew on their favorite shoe it is up to us to make them stop and take a personal inventory of what it is they are doing and where in life they are going. Don't forget that once a human has left their whelping box and moved out on their own they are bound to have moments of frustration or loneliness. It is at these moments that it is our God given duty to intervene. As canines we all know that a lick on the hand or a wag of the tail is our way of saying, "It's going to be okay kid, you can do it"!
Do remember Mr. Cup, whether you be a sailor, a pirate or a bumble bee, you are above all else a Dog! We are a great species who get to share our lives with those crazy kids called "Humans". And as we know, for most of them whether they be a Maggie, a Jeff, a Sandy, a Rachel, a Doug, or even a Susan, it is we who ROCK their world!
So Mr. Cup, keep on Rocking! You can do it!
Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Just Ask Brent

2010-11-17T07:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Just Brent,

You don’t know me but I’m also a Boxer boy, only my human mom does not let me on the computer much. She’s afraid I will learn of horrible things on the Internet. I have read your blog in the past and you seem to know about lots of things. Here's my situation, I hope you can help. My human Mom has been acting very strange lately, as she allows me to beg from the table which she never use to do and she feeds me delicious home baked chicken sometimes. It all started when we went to see my veterinarian and he told my mom I have cancer (lymphoma). Now I go every week to see the doctor. They are very nice to me at my veterinarian's office and treat me like I am a prince! My human Mom cries a lot after we leave there . I’m not sure why. I don't know if I have done something wrong or if maybe she is afraid of doctors and needles or maybe it is because when we leave the office the nurse gives me a tasty cookie but never offers one to her.

Please let me know what you think,

Winston, a 5 yr. old, Heroic Boy Boxer Dog. Los Angeles, Calif.

Dear Winston,

Thank you for writing in and introducing yourself to me. I am always looking forward to meeting new canine friends through my blog! You seem like a very intelligent dog (and I'm not just saying that as you too are a handsome Boxer dog.....well then again, maybe I am!) I understand your Ma'ams (human Mom) concern with the Internet. There are a lot of ditsy humans out there not to mention those insecure trolls who misuse the Internet to promote their own human inadequacies. A dog would never dream of spreading such mindless muck nor waste their time in doing so. Not when one can be outdoors playing chase while enjoying the sweet smell of fresh cut grass and the feeling of the sun on your bum. Now that's knowing how to use your time wisely!

When I first read about you and Cancer I thought you were talking about your astrological sign, Cancer the Crab! Which would mean that you are Emotional and loving, Intuitive and imaginative, Shrewd and cautious, Protective and sympathetic. I on the other hand, am a Virgo the Virgin. Which means I am Modest and shy, Meticulous and reliable, Practical and diligent, Intelligent and analytical. After re-reading your email I realized my obvious faux pas but would still probably guess that you are the intuitive, loving Crab and since I am a virgin, (which my snooty cousin Sonie has informed me, I will be till the day I die) I am most certainly a Virgo.

I must admit I was dismayed when I looked up what a Lymphoma is, but also encouraged at the same time. I learned that Lymphoma is one of the most common cancers (not the astrological Crab kind) seen in dogs. The Golden Retriever is especially susceptible to developing lymphoma. Breeds that are also commonly affected include Boxer, Scottish Terrier, Basset Hound, Airedale Terrier, Chow Chow,German Shepherd, Poodle , St. Bernard, Bulldog, Beagle, and Rottweiler. I'm glad that your Ma'am has chosen to do chemotherapy because I also read that, if a dog tolerates chemotherapy (and fortunately most dogs do) their quality of life can be quite good during the treatment period. Treatment for lymphoma in the dog is considered one of the more successful cancer treatments and can often be performed by a local veterinarian without the need to travel long distances to veterinary schools or specialty clinics (Darn, there goes your chance to go to Paris for treatment and meet a lot of "hot" french poodle girls!). It helps to remember that one year can equate to almost 10% of a dog's expected life span, therefore, the increased life expectancy with lymphoma treatment is often well worth it as I am sure it will be worth it for you Winston.

But as all canines know whether our lives are long or short we dogs enjoy a much better life style than do most humans. We sleep in, in the mornings, (a lot of us in our humans beds) and enjoy our meals without ever having to lift a paw. Our humans like to fuss over us and talk silly baby talk to us. They remember our birthdays and we celebrate their holidays with them. The fact is that we owe a lot to our humans as they do plenty for us. (Well maybe not so much The Old Lady as she does have me spending quite a bit of time in a "time out" in my crate when ever I get caught being "too" creative!) But best of all we canines don't have to waste our time worrying, 'cause our humans do plenty of that for us!

I do believe that your problem is that your human Ma'am is one of those lovey, worrier kinds of Ma'ams. She loves you so she worries about you! So this is my advice to you Mr. Winston:

1. Make sure that when you are leaving your veterinarians office that your Ma'am is offered a cookie. This will alleviate any feelings of favoritism between you and your Ma'am. But if she doesn't care for the crunchy biscuit I encourage you to also refuse one. This will give her a feeling that you are a real team and can face anything together! Then when you are back in the car, give her that look that says "Gee, I could really do with a Baskin Robbins cone right now." Your Ma'am will want to be supportive of her team mate and immediately take you for a scoop! I encourage a choice of "Very Berry Strawberry Ice Cream". It's really good for you as Strawberries are rich in Vitamin C which is good for the immune system, it's also a good source of manganese, omega 3, B5, B6 and vitamin K. Then there is the ice cream which is packed full of calcium which keeps our bones healthy and for your Ma'am helps control blood pressure and puts a damper on those PMS moments!

2. When your Ma'am is having a sad time ('cause she's worrying about you) give her a lick on her hand and then take her for a walk. As I have stated before, humans need lots of exercise.
Exercise causes a release of endorphins which can create a feeling of calm. As canines we all know that if humans would only worry less and spend more time chewing on a good bone, digging in the garden or chasing a butterfly, a frog, another dog or even their own tail, they would experience more tranquility in their daily lives.

3. Allow your Ma'am to pamper you! It will be help her to be in the moment. Humans are always measuring time with their calendars,their wall clocks and their wrist watches. They live for the future and love to talk about the past. We canines are fortunate enough to live in the moment. We enjoy the here and now! So any time your girl wants to give you a treat from the table smile and give a look that says "Way to go Ma'am!" When she takes the time to cook something special for you show your appreciation by letting her give you a back rub. This will let her know that at this moment in time you know what it is to be the luckiest dog ever!

Do take Care Dear Winston and continue to enjoy each moment, as only a dog knows how!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

......And God created Man and Woman and was pleased.....but he knew they would need a special companion, one who would be at their side to help protect and guide them......and so God created a special being and he looked at his new creation and was touched by how much it loved the humans and how it wanted to be with them at all times whether good or bad......and God said to this new creation "I shall call you Dog.........because it is you above all others that reflects what is in my heart." -Brent the Boy Boxer Dog 2010

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Brent and the Ark

2010-11-10T14:00:00.000-08:00

Hey Girls it's me Brent!

Well the rains are upon us once again and once again I am haunted by the memory of the Spring flooding of 2010! Because of the horrific images that come to mind when I speak of the floods, I have not done so in the past. But now I feel I must attempt to, in hopes of creating a cathartic cleansing of my cognitive memory. (I really have no idea what I just said, but I think it looks really good in print!)
It all started out on a cold rainy night, as do most frightful events in ones life. We had all had our teeth brushed, with some gritty,"minty" toothpaste that The Old Lady had picked up at the 99 cent store. The Old Girl then gave us a quick brush/rub down and secured/locked us away in our crates/jails. The sound of the rain against the window pane made me sleepy, but it also made me wish I had peed my last time outside, instead of playing chase with my snooty cousin Sonie. Drat that girl for having kidneys like a spinfex hopping mouse!
I thought about calling out to The Old Lady and request to be "let out" one more time, but I could hear the opening theme song for "Golden Girls" coming from the den (I mean really, how many times can one woman watch a re-run?) and knew her answer to my request would only be to "Stop barking!" So I positioned/balanced myself on my back and was soon in the depths of blissful REM. I was in the middle of my favorite dream, the one where I am chasing "The Ginger Snap Girl" on the beach, when I first noticed the wetness. I sat up with a start, thinking that I had relieved myself, on myself. But the realization of the true situation was far scarier! The rain had increased during my sleep and was now flooding into our room from underneath the door to the backyard patio . Visions of tsunamis and drowning crowded my mind! "Holy Muskatel" I shouted," We're all going to die!"
The big dog Doc was the first one to tell me to "shut up!" He was sleeping on his side facing away from the on coming waters and didn't appear at all concerned. I turned to my Mom Biscuit but she was snoring and had that Mom look on her face of "Hell no, don't wake me up!"I stood up and looked over to my snooty cousin Sonie who was now awake and giving me the stink eye for disturbing her "beauty sleep". I ignored her reproachful look and asked "Do you think we should warn The Old Lady about the possibility of our impending demise?"
"Oh Brent, your so overly dramatic. It's just a little water and no, I don't think you should wake up Susan. Goodness knows she needs her beauty sleep. Now turn over and go back to sleep!" Oh great, now the Queen of canine drama was calling me overly dramatic! But, she did have a point, The Old Lady definitely needs all of the beauty sleep she can get! I turned over in my crate/jail and dozed on and off for the next few hours with one eye opened. It was about 4 o'clock in the morning when I was awakened by the sound of water lapping against the bottom pan of my crate/jail. I sat up and was about to scream out "Every dog for himself," when I noted that the others were all fast asleep and in no apparent distress over our current circumstance.

Fearing further ridicule from my snooty cousin Sonie or worst yet, vexing the big dog Doc. I said nothing and sat in the corner of my crate/jail, contemplating my soon to be exit from this world and trying to embrace the fact that it was to be my destiny to die too young and unpublished. I was well into my grief and pity when I thought about my Mom Biscuit sleeping quietly in her crate/jail unaware of the danger that was rising around us. Looking at the rise and fall of her chest as she softly snored in her blissful sleep, I realized that it was up to me to save her from this pending doom! So I made a decision to ignore my own safety and dive into the murky depths of the flooding waters to rescue the one who is responsible for my very being!
The rain continued to fall as I began to dig at the bottom pan of my crate/jail. I dug with a fury of self realization that I was now a dog on a mission to save his Mom! I must have dug for hours but at last I had successfully pushed the bottom pan of my crate/jail all the way out. Unfortunately it was then that I realized that my crate/jail has a wire bottom under the pan making it impossible to "dig one's way out." Curses, foiled! I also noted that without the pan in place, me and my crate/jail were now paw deep in water and it was cold water at that!
I must be truthful and admit that I began to sniffle a bit at this juncture of my rescue operation. I did not know what to do. My crate/jail blanket which had at one time been warm and fluffy was now a wet soggy pile in the corner of my crate/jail. I looked at the big dog Doc, my Mom Biscuit and my snooty cousin Sonie, all of whom were still sleeping soundly in their warm dry crates and suddenly I felt very sad and very alone. I hung my head in defeat, well aware that I wasn't in any position to rescue anybody. What was a poor canine boy to do? With the rising water I thought, the only thing that would save us now was an Ark. Yes, that's what we needed an Ark! That would solve our dilemma! I quickly decided I could pray for an ark! I knew how to do it as I often hear The Old Lady crying out to the "Big Guy." Like when she found me in her garden with a freshly picked egg plant, dangling from my mouth, and cried out, "Dear God! What are you doing Brent?"
But to whom should I address my request? With a Methodist mother and a Jewish father (yes, I am of mixed breeding and yes dogs do follow the faith of their breeders.....it just makes it easier that way) I wasn't sure which side to call upon . I closed my eyes and cleared my head (which for me is really easy to do!) allowing any presence who wanted to intervene spiritually to do so.....ASAP! After a few minutes of cerebral silence I opened my eyes and calmly asked out loud "Dear God, be you Jewish, Methodist, or Buddhist please help me!" It was at that very moment that I saw a soft glow coming from under the doorway leading into the house. As the door opened the light got much brighter. It was shining directly into my eyes and I was gripped with fear as I called out, "Oh dear God, if you have to take someone......... .. please take my snooty cousin Sonie. Please don't take me or my Mom Biscuit!" Then a voice from within the light said, "Brent, what in the hell have you done?" Well I was rather pleased and instantly perplexed at the same time, for God not only knew me by name but his voice sounded somewhat familiar. Although I must admit I was very surprised that he cursed, and he continued to curse as he entered the room. When he approached my crate/jail I thought I recognized his green terry cloth robe, but it was when he let out a shrill scream as the flood water saturated his house slippers that I realized it wasn't "God" at all, it was just The Old Lady with a flash light in her hand coming to see what my "barking" was about. To be honest, I was never so happy to see The Old Girl as at that moment. Of course she carried on and moaned and groaned as she moved our crates/jails into the living room. It took her most of the day to clean up the water and I must admit I did enjoy watching her through the window as she filled sand bags in the rain and placed them in front of the door to the backyard trying to divert the flooding.

Thinking about it, I don't know how I could have confused The Old Lady with "God". But I do know my prayers were answered. The floods were diverted and me and my Mom did not drown. The next day when the rain stopped and the sun came out, The Old Lady let us out to play in the backyard. It was great to be out and free once again. I met up with Benny the Beagle at the fence and told him of my terrifying experience. Benny said he was very familiar with the story of "Noah and the Ark". Last summer he had been in an re-enactment of the story of the Ark at his humans vacation bible school. Benny said he was quite believable in his portrayal of a yak, but that Louie the German Shepherd, who was suppose to be portraying an elephant, was not so good, as he chewed off his trunk before he even got on stage. Benny also told me about Noah and the rainbow and how I should look for one to see if I had indeed experienced a heavenly intervention. After looking up into the skies for more than an hour all I noted was that, if you stare at the sun too long you will see spots and get a really bad headache! I never saw the red, orange, yellow, green, indigo blue or violet in the sky that make up the optical phenomenon. So I gave up on the idea and decided to play chase with my snooty cousin Sonie.
Later as we were lying around on the grass, I felt an overwhelming feeling of joy at just being alive so I jumped up and did a few laps around the yard (That's what we dogs do when we feel joyful!). As I ran I noted how blue the sky was in contrast to the greenness of the grass and how my Mom Biscuit's coat looked especially shiny and red in the bright yellow sunlight and as I paused to take a sniff and a munch at The Old Lady's lilac bush, I stopped and reflected that in life, with it's ups and downs and occasional very frightful moments, there really are lots of rainbows, sometimes we just need to look for them!
Well girls, I hope it's sunny where you're at today.
Best to you,
Brent the boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

"Just Ask Brent"

2010-10-20T04:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Just Brent,

Your column has been very helpful in the past and I am hoping you can help me now. I have a household of wonderful Boxers who I love dearly, but I often have a problem (as have other owners I know) with my dogs refusing to come in when called. I used to be able to get them to follow the command when I called out “cookie, cookie, cookie” (which I would have in hand and gave to them when they came). Now, they will stop and look at me in defiance as if to say, “I’m not falling for that trick, 'cause you want to put me in the crate, or make me go outside, or make me come inside" (or whatever else I want them to do). What do you recommend I do to get them to come when I call them? Please help me with my divas.

Miss Bonnie, Proud owner/breeder/lover of gorgeous Boxers!

Dear Miss Bonnie,

This is so cool as you are only my second human to write in. This shows me that you obviously have an above average IQ. Unfortunately, I think that your smartness might have rubbed off on your dogs! Either that or your choice of cookies are of questionable quality and/or flavor! I hope you are not offering Animal Cookies! While it is true that their frosting is both festive and flavorful, I myself find it a bit cannibalistic to consume them. One time Bridget the Poodle, who lives across the street, had taken a pink frosted rhinoceros animal cookie and buried it in her toy box. When she found it eight months later, it had not aged at all! The rhinoceros was still bright pink and festive. She had offered it to me, but I said "No thank you! I'm no cannibal!" But Benny the Beagle said he did not have a problem eating a rhinoceros and took it down in a munch and a gulp. Verdict? Still flavorful and crunchy, according to Benny the Beagle.

So my Dear Miss Bonnie here is my advice to you,

1.Only buy really good cookies. As I have revealed in the past, my very favorite cookies are the Ginger Snaps from Trader Joe's. Do not low ball your canine family with a discounted store brand or even worse do not under any circumstances call "Cookies, Cookies" unless you really have some in your hand and are ready to reward those who believe in your words and come running. If you do try to low ball your canine family and make empty promises they will think you are a politician and possibly try to bite your leg when you approach them!

2. Have a Boxer family meeting. (The Old Lady loves doing these!) Gather your Boxers together in a circle with you sitting cross legged in the middle.With a tear in your voice say "I don't know where I went wrong? Heaven knows I try. But do I get any support from you guys?" When you say this last line try and make eye contact with each of your non "Cookie" responders. Then let out a big sigh and look very disappointed while you slowly shake your head from side to side. This will make your non "Cookie" responders feel very guilty and want to change their ways!

3. If all else fails buy a goat! Preferably a Nigerian Dwarf goat as they are very friendly and cute! I know this as Moose the Bloodhound who lives around the corner met one at his cousin's house. Moose said that goats will eat just about anything (maybe not "Treat" but just about anything else!) And how clever is it that they come to you already named? I would encourage you to pick a Nanny goat and not a Billy goat because even though the Billy's smell is delightful, they can be really bossy, much like my cousin Sonie! Believe me, the arrival of your new goat will put your non " Cookie" responders on Notice! Just imagine yourself at your backdoor calling out "Nanette cookies!" (You will probably want to call your goat Nanette in front of your Boxers as this will impress them that she has a "Show Girl" name. As your goat eats the cookies in front of the non responders, say things like "Good goat," and "Oh Nanette you are my special girl" as you look into her horizontal pupiled eyes. (Do not stare into your goats eyes too long as she might try to hypnotize you! Moose says goats can do that but Benny says, " No way." I say better safe than sorry!) If you say these things in front of your Boxers, they will be very jealous and fearful that if they don't behave and come when called, they might just soon be replaced by this friendly, cute caprine!

My Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? " Just Ask Brent"

email your questions to Brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

or Bigdane220@yahoo.com

Brent and the Vicker

2010-10-14T17:35:00.000-07:00

Hey Girls It's Me Brent!
Man oh man! What a day I had today. Let me tell you girls, it is one that I will not soon forget!
Early this morning there was a terrible commotion at the back fence. In the alley behind our yard there was a strange dog barking and carrying on. Of course all of the neighborhood dogs were at full attention and the big dog Doc was in commando mode with my snooty cousin Sonie right behind him. I couldn't see what was causing all the fuss so I added my support by barking and looking "tough" as I charged the fence. When I got close enough to see through the Oleander hedge, I caught site of a small scruffy dog who was all alone. He was doing his best to look fierce, but even I could tell he was more than a little intimidated by all of the name calling and dog verbiage being thrown his way. The Old Lady soon put an end to all of the ruckus by calling us into the house for "Cookies".

Now when I hear the word "Cookie "I make a bee line for the back door, to be out run only by my Mom Biscuit. The big dog Doc and my snooty cousin Sonie aren't quite as cookie motivated as me and my Mom. Sometimes The Old Lady has to go out into the yard and demand that they come back inside immediately. I always get a good chuckle when she is still in her PJ's when she does this, as she is quite the site!
After we were all settled back into our crates/jails and finally given a cookie, I asked the big dog Doc what was up with the small scruffy dog at our fence. The big dog Doc said the small scruffy dog was some stray who had no business hanging around his backyard fence! By his tone I could tell he was still miffed about the whole incident so I turned to my snooty cousin Sonie for further questioning.

"Hey Princess Champion, what was that small scruffy dog doing all alone in the alley way", I queried. Ever since my snooty cousin Sonie became a champion, she makes me call her "Princess Champion". I don't like calling her "Princess Champion", but if I just call her Sonie, she won't answer me and will then refuse to play with me in the backyard. My Mom Biscuit says it's just a phase she's going through and that she will soon answer to Sonie again. But I'm not so sure 'cause it's been over six months now and she's still referring to herself as "The Princess Champion"!
"It's true dear cousin Brent, that poor misfortunate creature at our back gate was a stray mongrel. (Did I also mention, that she is also now a Champion Drama Diva?) That pathetic little tyke has no home to go home too". With that the "Champion Princess of Drama" let one lone tear roll down her brindled furry cheek as she let out a theatrical sigh and then stretched out to take a nap. She then mumbled something about needing her beauty sleep and with a yawn closed her eyes. I was about to say something doggily rude, about her obvious need for beauty sleep, but decided to cut my losses and go to the source of truth, my Mom Biscuit!

"So Mom", I asked, "What happened to that mongrel's family?" My mom immediately chastised me for using the word mongrel stating that, "Underneath our fur, we are all the same dog." Hanging my head to "appear" shameful, I apologized and questioned in a more polite canine manner why it was that the little dog did not have a home.
"Unfortunately Brent, that little dog's humans no longer want him to be a part of their family."
"But I don't understand Mom, why didn't they find him a new home, like my sister Bebe has?"
"Oh Brent, your sister Bebe moved to a new home because it was her time to have her own family to care for. Unfortunately, there are some humans who are not very kind and will abandon their canine family member without regard to their safety or future."

Well needless to say I was dumbfounded. How could a human not be concerned about their dog's safety and future? I mean The Old Lady definitely gets under my epidermis, but at least she always feeds me! The Old Girl even brushes my teeth and washes my face at night. Not that I really enjoy all that feather fuss! I prefer to smell like a real dog with real dog breath, not like a mint julep!
"So Mom, you're saying there are people out there who treat their dog family members meaner than The Old Lady treats me?" Now I don't know if I've mentioned it before but my Mom Biscuit considers The Old Lady one of her best friends. Why? I don't know, but she does!
"Brent, you know I don't like it, when you call Susan, " The Old Lady." As far as dogs go we are treated better than most. Susan tries very hard to keep us healthy and happy."
"Yeah right!" I answered in a most snide tone. The words were out of my mouth and into my Mom's ears just as I realized I had actually said them out loud. Dang! I'm dead I thought to myself. I didn't know where to look as I was sure my Mom Biscuit had one of those Killer, Mad Mom Looks on her face. When I finally did look her way, her expression was one of sadness more than anything else. "Oh my dear Brent, you are so young. Sit down in your crate it's time I told you about the ways of the world outside of our yard." She then proceeded to tell me about a human monster called "The Vicker" (AKA Michael Vick).
"Outside of our yard and beyond there is a world of terrifying creatures who prey on weak and defenseless animals. Though they are humans, they act more like subhuman demons who enjoy inflicting pain and watching the suffering of animals. These demon creatures cause beautiful dogs, whose only desire is to please their master, to fight and tear at one another resulting in bloodshed and agony. And as if that was not enough the subhuman creatures themselves inflict great pain and suffering on those poor dogs who have not won the fight. These despicable creatures care nothing about the cost of canine life only about their lust for fighting and mayhem."

"But don't they know that dogs don't like to fight! We are pack animals we are suppose to protect each other for the good of the pack. (Even I was impressed with my comment! My time spent with The Old Lady watching Animal Planet had payed off at last!)
"These monsters, do not even care that dogs being a very social species, will love a human that is shunned by other humans!"
Now I know my Mom Biscuit, is very smart and has been on the show circuit as a young dog, but I could not imagine where she would have been exposed to such gruesomeness!
"How do you know these things?" I asked in a hushed whisper.
"Well" she said," I was searching through the bathroom trash in hopes of finding a napkin, full of cookie crumbs, left behind by Jim (AKA The Old Man) after one of his midnight cookie jar raids, when I spied the Daily News sports page lying on the floor next to the large porcelain drinking bowl. I was hoping to see who had won in the fifth race at Santa Anita, (With a name like "Biscuit"My Mom is quite the racing enthusiast. Don't even get her started on Zenyatta!) when I came upon an article about this athlete who hated and viciously mistreated his dogs and made them fight for money!"

I was speechless! How could there be a human like that? "Oh no!" I cried. "What did they do to him for such dastardly behavior towards our aniamlian totem?"
"They put him in prison for a short time and then ........they let him go."
"They let him go? But how could they? If a dog were to do any of those deeds he would be put to death! If they let this demon go, where is he now?" I asked fearing that this monster might come for me! My Mom Biscuit dropped her head and said in a sad whisper "There are many subhumans who care very little about what happens to dogs my sweet Brentenious." The Monster Vicker", is playing football once again while many subhumans cheer him on, and others pay him millions of human dollars to do so." I sat quietly in my crate/jail for a few minutes pondering what my Mom Biscuit had divulged to me. Real live Monsters outside of my yard, who don't care about their canine friends! Pain and suffering inflicted on dogs for sport? What kind of humans are these? At that moment my life with The Old Lady and my snooty cousin, "The Princess Champion", didn't seem so bad. But then, I thought about my sister Bebe and the great life she is having with her humans who I know protect her from any monsters. "Mom," I asked,"When will I be ready to have my own family to care for like my sister Bebe does?"
"Someday Brent, when you are a little older, I am sure there will be a special, no a very special person or family that will be just right for you! But until then, you're my boy!"
It was at that moment that The Old Lady came in to release us from our crate/jails. The big dog Doc was the first one out followed by "The Princess Champion." As The Old Lady, bent down to open my Mom Biscuit's crate/jail, I saw a flicker of a smile cross my Mom's face as she looked up at The Old Girl, still in her PJ's ,with her hair a mess. As she bent down to pat my Mom Biscuit, The Old Lady asked, "How's my girl doing?" My Mom started the "I love you no matter what wiggle," which truly delighted The Old Lady. I looked at the two of them and it occurred to me that my Mom loves The Old Girl in much the same way as I love my Mom! Which is a whole lot! So I deciphered that being my Mom's boy is okay for right now.
But someday I hope to have my own family like my sister Bebe does. I know I will love them and take good care of them. And of course they will love me and and want to protect me from The Monsters that are outside of my yard. I think they will also want to give me lots of cookies when I am good.......or maybe just because they love me! And because they are a good family they will never ever want to brush my teeth!

So Girls, until then I guess I will just have to put up with The Old Lady!

Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

"Just Ask Brent"

2010-10-06T13:02:00.000-07:00

Dear Just Brent,

I am writing for my cousin as she is too shy to write to you. My cousin "Lily", a wonderful gal, has a new friend, "Else" who is both sweet and beautiful. Else was found a few years ago running loose on the streets of Los Angeles, so who knows what's in her background. Lily and Else get together three times a week for play time. They really look forward to those times. However there is a big problem! Every time Else comes over to play, Else's does her business in Lily's bedroom!!! No lie! To top it off, Else acts like she has done nothing wrong! So my dear Brent, what to do?? I will impart any suggestions you may have to my cousin.

Fred the Schnauzer 6 yrs. of age

Toluca Lake, Ca

Dear Fred,

Wowziers! Else was found wandering the streets of Los Angeles? Man I have never even been to L.A. much less allowed to wander about with out The Old Lady hovering/smothering over me! You do not say what part of L.A. Else was found so I am not so sure that her doing her business is not just a localized custom that she is performing when visiting her new friend. I know that the Shih Tzu feels very comfortable about leaving behind a bit of themselves when visiting someones home. I know this as there is a Shih Tzu named Ernie who lives two doors down from me. He is a real friendly guy who likes to visit my neighbor Benny the Beagle on a regular bases. Just last week at the backyard fence, Benny and I were having a rousing discussion on the consumption of "treat". Benny said that while he considers himself a liberal about most things, "treat" was beyond his reasoning! Ernie the Shih Tzu, who had stopped by to shoot the breeze, said he didn't mind "treat" but instead of taking it for himself preferred leaving it behind as a token of his esteem for his host. I had not heard of this custom before and was instantly impressed that Ernie had such a Continental way about himself! Boy, you learn something new everyday!

So my dear Fred this is my advice for your cousin,

1. When Else comes to visit say Halló Else og velkomin. This means "Hello Else and welcome" in Icelandic. (I'm thinking that with a name like Else she must be Icelandic!) Your speaking Icelandic will impress her and she will want to listen to what you have to say.

2. If Else does do her business in your room act surprised. Then casually mention that unlike in L.A./Iceland this custom is not pleasing to the host and that the backyard is the preferred area for doing business. Direct Else to the backyard facilities where, after she has done her business, you should have a robust game of chase. Make sure you let her win as this will let her know that there are no hard feelings concerning her previous social faux pas.

3. When Else no longer does this L.A./Icelandic ritual, show her your appreciation, by preparing a few traditional dishes, from her Icelandic homeland such as skyr, cured ram scrota, hakarl, sharks head which is left buried under ground for several months to ferment and blood pudding. These culinary delights will make Else feel right at home and she will treasure your friendship forever!

And if all "else" fails Dear Fred, tell Lily to KEEP HER DOOR CLOSED when Else visits!

My Best to You,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? " Just Ask Brent"

email your questions to Brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

or Bigdane220@yahoo.com

Just Ask Brent!

2010-09-18T12:46:00.000-07:00

Dear Just Brent,

I am a professional Dog Dancer and have also studied the art of obedience. I enjoy competitions and good times of just hanging out with my human Jo Jo. (My human's given name is Jo Anne but we are real tight so I call her Jo Jo.) However, my life has been turned upside down since she brought home the new puppy. She calls him Skywalker because he is always in the air. Personally, I call him "Sky Pest" and a few other choice names because, he won’t leave me alone!

Yesterday I had had enough and wanted some alone time, so I went to my crate/sleeping quarters, stepped inside and pulled the crate door shut. After a good long nap I got up, did a leisurely stretch with a touch of Tae Kwon Do for good measure. I was ready to get out of my crate/sleeping quarters but "Sky Pest" was lying down outside of my quarters with his annoying puppy butt leaning up against the door. For a moment, I was frozen in terror! I couldn't get out! Oh No! I started to cry like a baby and soon my girl Jo Jo came running and moved" Sky Pest" out of the way.

I have tried to be patient but it is getting harder, day-by-day, moment by moment. "Sky Pest" has now taken to uprooting all the flowers in our beautiful yard. He likes to bring the Iris bulbs into the house to show them off. He also brings in roots, twigs, and branches of anything he can reach. My Jo Jo has to rake the carpet before she vacuums. And what is really scary, is that recently he has taken to bringing in large pieces of concrete. We can't find where he is collecting them from and my humans are fearful that it is from the foundation of our house.
I think "Sky Pest" needs to go! But my Jo Jo does seem to really like him and she does find some of his antics humorous, although I don't know why! What I do know is that I want him to just leave me alone. Please advise on how I can get "Sky Pest" to quit bugging me!

Daisy, Boxer girl, 9 1/2 years old and going strong!
Bakersfield, Ca

Dear Daisy, Unfortunately what is going on here is a classic situation of les différences artistiques canine. In other words your boy Sky is an artistic Naturalist where as you, as a dancer, sound like a student of Purism. I know these things as Bridget the Poodle who lives across the street is also a student of Purism enjoying both water colors and pastels. It's amazing what that girl can do with a garden hose and a tube of Cotton Candy Pink lipstick!

I myself am a disciple of the Naturalist art form with a lean toward cubism at times. Both are relevant forms of expression in the dog world and are supported by most canine groups who dabble in the arts. The good news is, that yes, the two can co-exist under the same human built roof! What you need to understand and eventually embrace are the differences in the two.

Canine Purist (pups of Purism) tend to follow a clear precise art form. This concept is reflected in their still life work presentations which are both clean and pure.

Canine Naturalist ( pups of Naturalism) are an off shoot of the 19Th century Realism movement and often adopt a Darwinian perspective of life. They're works depict realistic objects in a natural setting. Okay let me break it down for you canine style!

Purist artistic dogs enjoy store bought toys from places like Pet A Go Go, Pets R Us and Wag'ems. They like to take their white and yellow nylon bones, lime green Frisbee and sky blue rubber balls to the middle of the yard and create a collage of inspiration. They appreciate that when left out overnight that precise presentation of pure originality will be cleansed by the sprinklers in the AM to once again sparkle in the sunlight of a new day.

Naturalist canine artists (myself and Benny the Beagle who lives next door) prefer the raw creativity of nature's toys found in their own backyard. Your boy Sky shows a clear Naturalist tendency with his use of twigs, roots and branches. Though potentially dangerous, I find his use of humanistic concrete to be both bold and original. And let us not ignore his incorporating your Purism influence with his use of the pastel Irises. I say well done! This boy definitely deserves your support as a budding artist!

Therefore, My Dear Daisy here is my advice to you;

1. Whenever you find Sky the Naturalist preparing to create, assist him with his gathering of the garden elements (twigs, branches, rocks and leaves). If he decides to lean toward a cubism expression (dig a hole), say "Hey Sky! How's about we work on this cubist endeavor together?" He will think you a great leader and very smart as you share his artistic vision.

2. If Sky decides to mix it up with a little Naturalism and a touch of Purism, applaud his daring by saying "Way to go Sky Guy!" The use of a personal nickname, from you, will help to build a bridge between your differing artistic tastes and let him know that you are there for him!

3. Promise him, that you will teach him to dog dance and that he will soon be the Fred Astaire of the dog world, but first he must quit eating the foundation of your home! If this does not quash his appetite for concrete say, "Jeepers Sky don't be a Chowder Head! The first two things that all dogs learn as pups are, one don't bite the hand that feeds you and two don't eat the house you live in!" Shake your head in disbelief, with your eyes narrowed, as you say this to him. This will embarrass him as he recalls that, yes indeed his mother did tell him not to do these two things as a pup. When he looks fully remorseful say "That's Okay Sky Guy, just don't let it ever happen again." He will now know that you can be both stern and forgiving. His appreciation for you as both a leader and an artist will be immense! His daily goal will now be to please, not pester you!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on Life?

Just Ask Brent!

Send your email questions to Brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

"Just Ask Brent"

2010-08-19T01:04:00.000-07:00

Dear Just Brent,

I enjoy reading your column and I hope you will be able to help me but I'm not sure if you can. You see, I am a cat with a big cat problem! My owner is an actor who recently moved in with his girlfriend and took both me and my brother Stewy with him . Now we all live in a very nice condo. As you might know cats love condos. There are stairs to run up and down on and lots of fun places to hide.

The girlfriend is very pretty and seems to like me and Stewy. Our problem is that she is insisting that our litter box must go and we must learn to use the toilet! Our toilet training has been going on for about a month now and I am comfortable with the whole thing. Unfortunately my brother Stewy is not! He prefers to use the big human wash tub in the bathroom which really upsets the pretty girlfriend. Stewy says that jumping up on a bowl of water is just too scary, 'cause once something falls into that bowl it is flushed away never to be seen again!

The pretty girlfriend, who is also an actor, is out of town on tour right now. She will be gone for 2 months and when she comes back the litter box is to be gone and Stewy and I must be toilet trained or else! I'm really worried about my brother Stewy as he continues to have a fear of being flushed away! What are we to do?

Sincerely,
Bobby Boy Cat, age 8 years

Dear BBC,

Wow! I didn't even know that cats could read much less write! Excuse my ignorance as we do not have a house cat where I live. The Old Lady says it's much too dangerous as the big dog Doc has an "unfortunate history" of playing too rough with neighborhood stray cats. Your litter box problem though is not an uncommon one according to my neighbor Benny the Beagle. At his house they have 2 indoor cats. His cats use a litter box which according to Benny can be a delightful snack bar at times but also an odorous disaster at others.

Benny was very intrigued that your humans are trying to "toilet train" you. I myself continue to wonder why it is that humans want to use the big porcelain drinking bowel to do their "duty" in, when there are plenty of trees outside! But as as an investigative journalist I must put aside my own prejudices in order to assist my readers! Benny filled me in on a few of the peculiarities that you felines share, as he is an authority having 2 of you at home.

- Cats are very moody and like to act snooty like my cousin Sonie. (Benny says he is pretty sure that they think they are better than dogs, if you can believe that!)

- Cats like to chase stuff, like birds and lizards and crickets and small rodents. (Well who the heck doesn't?)

- Cats like to play in paper bags and bat around pieces of paper, feathers and dust bunnies.
(This sounds dumb and I think that Benny is just pulling my paw.)

- Cats like to sleep, during the day, undisturbed for hours on the bed or a soft chair and when they wake up they like to jump up on the kitchen counter and look for left overs. (I guess they are not so dumb after all!)

- Cats will scratch your nose and hiss at you if you tell them that they have bad breath. (Unfortunately, I personally know this one to be true!)

Now that I have this list, I feel like an authority on cats!

So here is my feline advice to you !

1. Give Stewy lots of encouragement when he tries to jump up on the toilet. Say things like "You can do it Big Guy!" and "Way to go Stewmister". These cool nicknames will help build his confidence and make him want to try harder!

2. If he is successful while on the pot, give him a reward like a small toy or a grass hopper. Tell him "Well done, Stewsters" But refrain from patting him on the back when he is poised on the toilet seat as you might knock him in.

3. If he is overcome with fear and is refusing to jump up on the toilet, try to reason with him and in a calm voice say "Stewy your a cat, you have nine lives. If you fall in and get flushed you still have eight left!"

4. If all else fails get a dog! Benny swears that most dogs like "cat treat". Some dogs have even been heard to say it's better than candy or truffles!

I hope my advice will help you "cats" out. An actor who makes enough money to feed you ,with a pretty girlfriend and a new condo sounds like a fine life to me!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Dear Readers,

I need your assistance!

Please if you are reading this, take a moment and write in with a question.

I am here to help! But I need to know your needs in order to do so!

Thanks,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? " Just Ask Brent"

email your questions to Brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

or Bigdane220@yahoo.com

2010-08-12T09:47:00.005-07:00

"Just Ask Brent"

Dear Just Brent,

My dog Charlie loves to eat whatever food he can find on the kitchen counter tops. Banana bread, a half made peanut butter sandwich, left over take out, cookie dough, fruit, jello, anything that is mistakenly left out on the counter gets munched by our Charlie!
Can you please advise, as sometimes he gets to our dinner fix-ings before we do!
Thank You,
Sharon (owner of) "Good Time Charlie" standard poodle age 3 1/2 years.

Dear Good Time Charlie's owner/significant human,
What your boy Charlie is doing here is the classic "Humane dietary intervention maneuver". As a responsible member of the family we canines often find it necessary to intervene when we take notice of possible weight gain occurring in our humans. When ever I see that The Old Lady's posterior is expanding, I make a mental note to start a daily caloric count for her. Then when I see she is over her ideal total caloric intake for the day I remove those extra unbecoming calories from her reach by selflessly digesting them before she can get to them. My sister Lolli, had to take out a whole lemon meringue pie one time to protect her family from caloric overload! I must admit though that I am both surprised and impressed, that your boy Charlie is willing to eat a P&J sandwich for you! As I know from Bridget the Poodle who lives across the street, Poodles have a very sophisticated palate and let's face it peanut butter and jelly is on the low end of the culinary scale. You are a lucky woman Sharon. Your boy Charlie is a keeper by golly!

Here is my advice to you:

1. Eat out more often! You deserve it! But when you are eating out, only consume 1/2 of your meal. Then put the left overs in a container/doggie bag and bring them home. At midnight when you think "hmmmm, that left over Chicken Alfredo would taste pretty good right now" get up and take the left overs out of the fridge, placing them on the counter. At this point call Charlie into the kitchen saying "Hey Charlie, do you think I should finish off those delicious left overs?" Do a 180 degree turn allowing Charlie to get a true front and back profile of you in your jamming jammies/PJ's. At this point your intuitive canine will know if you are in any position to finish off that delightful mix of flavors which have now reached their climatic high point in that styrofoam box or if he needs to intervene.

2. Put those caloric starved dog biscuits on the counter with in your easy reach. They are not only packed full of nutrition but they are also appetite suppressing and tasteless as you can ask any dog! We only eat them to make our humans feel better about themselves and their snack selection capabilities but most any of us would be willing to share them with our humans on any given day. So when the craving hits you to munch out, simply take those caloric filled delicacies out of your refrigerator and put them up on the counter within Charlie's reach and then you dive into those dog biscuits! Go ahead and eat em'up, Charlie won't mind a bit!

3. Do not try any of those home remedies for "counter surfing" (which in it's self is a despicable term)! Mouse traps, sticky tape, and alarms on the counter top end up being an embarrassment for both the dog and their humans. Just try to embrace the fact that your dog is willing to eat just about anything for the benefit of your well being!

Remember Dear Readers, your dog is there not only as your friend but as your protector. As small pups we are instructed by our mothers on the need to protect our human family from the evils that lurk at the borders of our property line and to assist them in the "battle of the bulge".

I can not tell you how many times I have witnessed The Old Lady struggling to get into a pair of summer carpi's and heard my Mom Biscuit's voice in my head saying "Ingest and protect that is our canine duty!" At which point I hurry myself downstairs and check out the counter for any offensive caloric culprits! Does The Old Lady ever appreciate my protective actions? Heck no!
I usually end up in a time out in my crate/jail. But I do it with a spring in my step and a song in my heart for I know I have done my canine duty!

My best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? "Just Ask Brent "
emails questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Brent and the Pin Cushion

2010-08-02T06:00:00.000-07:00

Hey Girls, It's Me Brent!

Okay, so what fun loving, slightly masochistic human decided to camouflage a pin cushion as an edible piece of fruit? (and yes tomatoes are a fruit). I mean really how do you expect man's best friend to know the difference?

Actually, I blame The Old Lady for the whole mess. She is the one who purchased said "pin cushion" and she's the one who chose to fill it full of straight pins. And she is also the one who left it in the middle of the dining room table in plain view when one is standing up right on their hind legs looking for a possible snack.

Of course I thought I had made the discovery of the century when I first started munching on it. I found it to have a mild tangy flavor with an earthy/saw dusty after taste which I quite enjoyed. It was the sharpness of the munch that I found distracting. After a few bites I realized that this rare fruit appeared to have thorns that were really sharp! As I spit out the remains of the disagreeable herbaceous, The Old Lady spied me from the kitchen and screeched out a few profanities as she approached me.

"Oh no Brent! What have you done?" she said this in a low foreboding tone when she reached me. Once again I questioned The Old Girl's vision. Wasn't it obvious that I was trying to have a nutritional snack only to discover that it was a fraudulent fruit and too painful to fully ingest? Without so much as a polite "Do you mind if I dislocate your jaw?" The Old Lady bent down grabbed my mug and pried it opened. After a quick visual she stood up and announced, "Well you've done it once again Brent!" At this point I wasn't quite sure what it was that I had done again. But I was pretty sure it wasn't pleasing to The Old Lady, 'cause if looks could kill, I'd be extinct right now!

Fifteen minutes later when we pulled up in front of The Old Man's Veterinarian Hospital I knew I was in deep doo! After The Old Girl explained my current situation to The Old Man, I was handed over to Sherrie who takes the X-Rays. I've always liked Sherrie she smells like vanilla and likes to give me cookies when I visit the office and calls me her "cutie boy".
After I was X-Rayed from head to toe (at The Old Lady's insistence)I was allowed to roam around the back room. I am allowed to do this when I visit as I have been deemed not to be a threat to most anything. I was enjoying the cookie that Sherrie had given me when I noticed that a door to an exam room had been left slightly ajar. I immediately went into my P.I. mode
(and yes, I do enjoy re-runs of Magnum P.I. late at night with my Mom Biscuit and The Old Lady).

As I stuck my snout into sniff the air, I noticed an older woman standing next to the exam table. Since my canine vision isn't the best, I thought it might be The Old Girl for a moment. But then I noticed that she was very fashionably dressed so I knew it couldn't be The Old Lady!
The woman was being very gentle as she quietly stroked the dog who was stretched out on the exam table. The dog appeared to be a brindle Boxer like me, except his mug was very grey and he didn't look like he wanted to play. He just laid there, very still with his eyes closed, as the woman bent down and whispered in his ear. I couldn't hear all of her words but I did hear, "love you", "friend" and "always". As the woman stood up she noticed me in the doorway. "Hello boy" she said softly.

Well being me I took this as an invitation to come on in, which of course I did. She smiled at me and patted me on the head. As I looked up into her face I saw that her eyes were watering so I licked her hand to let her know that "it was going to be okay". We just stood there for a moment when I heard Sherrie calling for me. The woman smiled again and said "You'd better go boy, they're looking for you." I wagged my tail good-bye and went off to find Sherrie and possibly another cookie.

When I found Sherrie she was standing with The Old Lady and The Old Man looking over my X-Rays. "Well he's pin free" The Old man announced. The Old Lady gave a sigh of relief and after thanking everyone she unceremoniously dragged me off to the car.
As I was being secured into my harness/seat belt I saw the older woman getting into a car.
She did not have her dog with her and her face looked very sad. I barked to her and when she saw me she smiled at me in recognition. I tried to say more, but The Old Lady told me to "Stop barking!" So I just smiled at the woman as we drove away.

Now I know some people don't believe that dogs can smile. The Old Man says it's just silly to think that a dog who has their mouth opened, with their jowls pulled up in a grin like position, is doing anything more than panting . But just like The Old Lady, The Old Man is only human and thus misses out on a lot of the canine subtleties in life. It's true you do have to look very carefully and be a bit open minded to see it. But we dogs do have a sense of humor and we can often be found having a good chortle over something some silly human has done. We honestly can't help ourselves as humans are a very funny species. We just try not to be rude about it!

When The Old Lady and I arrived back home, The Old Girl decided I needed to be in a time out for my transgressions. So I was put into my crate/jail. I really didn't mind though as I was quite tired and a snooze sounded pretty good to me. The other dogs were already napping except for my Mom Biscuit and the big dog Doc .

"Well kid", the big dog Doc asked after The Old Lady left the room, "What did they find?" I was a bit flustered at his asking about my health as he doesn't usually say much to me, unless it's to tell me not to be doing something that's bugging him. I told him about my X-rays and how I had been deemed "Pin free" by The Old Man.
The big dog chuckled to himself as he turned over and whispered under his breath "Diagnosis D.D. huh kid?"

I was about to ask my Mom Biscuit, what he was talking about when I remembered the fashionably dressed older woman at The Old Man's office and her grey muzzled Boxer dog.
I asked my Mom what she thought was wrong with the him and why he laid there so quietly.
My Mom took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. She turned toward me and her voice got real low as she began to tell me about the special bargain that is made between a human and their dog. She told me, it's usually decided upon early on in their relationship and is re affirmed as their relationship grows and the dog matures.
"You see Brentenious, (that's her nickname for me when she talks to me about important dog stuff) as dogs we are expected to offer unconditional love to our humans. We are to be there for them no matter what and show our devotion to them when they need us the most. In return we expect them to be there for us at the end of our canine years when we need them the most. It is at this time, that our humans are able to show how much they appreciate and love us through taking our pain away and allowing us to go forward without them. It is a great honor to be in the presence of a grey muzzled dog Brentenious and you must always show your respect for one when you see them.

"But why was the woman so sad and where was the grey muzzled dog going to without her?" I asked.
"I'm not sure where we go to after we leave our humans and I'm not sure that we need to know. What I do know is that taking someones pain away is a wonderful gift. Not that I need or want that gift right now. But it does give me a sense of peace to know it will be there for me when I need it." With that my Mom Biscuit stretched out and closed her eyes and then continued. "As far as the woman being sad Brentenious, that just means that the grey muzzled dog was a very special dog. She was a lucky lady to have had such a dog and she knew it!"

After a few moments I whispered, "Mom are you asleep?"
"No, but I'm trying to be Brent" she answered.
"Mom, what does "diagnosis D.D." mean?" I asked her.
"It means, diagnosis dumb dog." There was a moment of silence and then she added, "Don't let Doc fool you Brent. He knows the term because that's what they called him at the vet's office after he ate his second tomato pin cushion as a young dog."

With that the big dog Doc stood up in his crate/jail and stated crossly to my Mom, "You just had to tell him, didn't you Biscuit?"
"Oh Doc, where's your sense of D.D. humor?" she asked him and then started laughing.
Man oh man my Mom is so funny and there is no better sound than that of my Moms laughter at the end of a very long and sticky day! She definitely has a sharp sense of humor!

Well keep smiling ladies and do put those pin cushions where your canine friends CAN"T FIND THEM!

Best to you,
Brent the boy Boxer Dog

Just Ask Brent!

2010-07-20T22:04:00.001-07:00

( This letter is from Brent's Sister Lolli )

Dear Just Brent,

It has been a while since I've seen you and I miss you dearly. I am so glad you now have an advice column because dear brother I NEED IT! I don't know what's wrong with me but obviously something is!

You may have heard that I was "skunked" a few months back. Chasing the skunk was an exciting adventure, though very short lived! The skunk sprayed this gosh awful stuff at me that burned my eyes, went up my nose and down my throat making me gag!

My folks were real understanding and of course they thought I had learned my lesson. But you now how it is. The temptation of the pursuit, the zeal of a chase? I just couldn't help myself and dang if it didn't happen again, sprayed in the face!

The second time my folks were NOT very pleased with me. There was no, "Oh poor baby Lolli" or warm baths in the big tub with nice smelling soaps and soft towels. No, not for me! This time Ma'am just stared at me with a look of disgust as she tied me to the fence. She then sprayed me down with cold hose water and lathered me up with dish soap. After rinsing me off I was dried with an old tattered beach towel. That night I had to sleep in the garage by myself! The whole incident was humiliating to say the least!

I would like to say that after the second time I had learned my lesson and am no longer interested in the pursuit of wild life on my property. But dear brother that would be a lie, as I have gone after a opossum and a few of those peanut munching squirrels. Much to the dismay of Ma'am, I have taken out one or two of the slow runners. I don't mean to off any of them, it's just so much fun going after them! What is wrong with me?
Was I just born to be bad?

You Sister,
LOLLI, Boxer Girl , (almost) 2 yrs. old

Dear Sister Lolli,

Born to be bad.....No my dear sister! You are just a free spirited Boxer girl.
But jeepers Lolli, skunked twice in one month? So much for you being the brains of the family! Your folks (i.e.Ma'am) sound more than understanding as you obviously still have your computer privileges. If I was skunked even once The Old Lady, would put me in a permanent time out in the basement for the rest of my life, with only a bit of bread and a little water once a day!

As you might know dear readers, the pursuit of wild life is a time honored tradition in the canine world. Over time as man has domesticated our genus, we have become more open to accepting other species into our immediate environment.

But there is no way that any dog worth their weight in kibble is going to put out the welcome mat for SKUNKS! You obviously have drawn a line in the sand, Sis, and you must continue to stand your ground! What you need to do is make your folks, and particularly Ma'am, appreciate your selfless efforts.

Here is my advice on your skunk dilemma:

1. When you go out in your yard at night make sure your Ma'am is with you. As you track around the yard look over your shoulder occasionally and make eye contact with her having that look on your face of "Guard Dog On Duty". It will inspire her to know that you are there to protect her no matter the cost to your own well being.

2. When you do cross paths with a skunk, pause and take a few steps back toward Ma'am making sure that if and when the little stripped mephitidae decides to unload on you a small whiff will waft it's way toward Ma'am. At this point throw yourself in front of her taking the rest of the odorous anal excretion full on (preferably closing your eyes and mouth at the time). Your Ma'am will feel so guilty that you put her well being over your own safety that she will inevitably consider you her hero for life! Once the stench wears off, she may even allow you to sleep in her bed and even possibly sit next to her at the dinner table offering you table scraps on a regular bases. And of course your Ma'am will soon be bragging to all of her friends about what her brave and trustworthy dog did!

As far as squirrels are concerned, kudos to you for being able to catch one! I've never even come close to catching one. So being ignorant on the subject I ask Benny the Beagle for his advice. Benny said that according to his friend Moose the Bloodhound who lives around the corner, squirrel season does not open until August 15. So you really shouldn't being trying to "bag" one until then. Moose also said that, "Unlike popular misconceptions on the hunting of squirrels, they do not "spoil " if given reasonable care when out in the field. Mainly keeping them out of the sun and out where air flows freely around them will keep them fresh for later." I told Benny to tell Moose thanks for his advice!

Here is my advise to you on squirrels:

1. Do not "bag" one until after August 15th. You might get arrested and as I can attest to, Boxer dogs do not do well behind bars!

2. When you do "bag" one, put it on the porch in the shade where the air flows freely. You can also leave one of the many tasty squirrel recipes found on the "Billy Bob Bill ".com site. Your humans will be very impressed that you are now providing for the family!

3. Try not to "bag" too many too often. Although most humans are carnivores and have been the cause of many a chicken, cow or pig going to meet their maker, they like to think of themselves as humane. So the site of a carnivore acting like a carnivore seems to put them off. The Old Lady has a tizzy fit any time one of us even thinks about chasing a squirrel or a opossum! I know it seems silly dear Sister, but after all they are only human!

Well my best to you,

Your brother,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advise on life? "Just Ask Brent!"

email questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Just Ask Brent

2010-07-06T22:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Just Brent,

I have a problem I hope you can solve. My younger sister likes to play with all of my toys. I don't really mind that she plays with my toys, however I do not appreciate the fact that she slobbers all over them!!!!! When I go to play with them or re-arrange them in the toy box, they taste HORRIBLE! Is there anything I can do to get the foul taste and odor off my toys? She is also very messy and never puts the toys back where she found them! I am trying to keep the peace in our home as I am the eldest and the smartest! But I mean really..........can't one play with one's toys (or others) and maintain some level of civility? Is there no class left in the canine community?

BOGIE, Standard Poodle who is both mature and classy!

Dear Mr. Bogie,

It is obvious that since you are a poodle you probably are a classy, civilized sort of dog. Unfortunately, your sister is obviously not as refined as you! I don't like to judge on breeding alone, but my guess is she is not of French descent. She may even be German like me, which means she likes to play lots and get dirty doing so. You do have my sympathies as Bridget, my neighbor across the street, is a French poodle and she is very refined!

Bridget is also a bit of a breed snob and will only talk to Boxers and Beagles when she is really bored. Which, she was last week when she told me about the French delicacy escargot. When she first told me about the eating of snails on the half shell, I thought she was just pulling my paw. You can imagine my delight when Benny the Beagle substantiated her culinary claim. Well being a canine that is always ready and willing to challenge my palate, I decided to try escargot. Early one morning while taking a leisurely stroll in the back yard I came upon a snail making his way across the garden wall.

I apologetically stated "Sorry about this Old Chap" and promptly scooped him up with my tongue. I immediately realized I had made a mistake as he did not taste buttery with a light garlic finish as Bridget had claimed he would. What he did taste was really horrible, so I tried to swallow him whole. Well this did not work, as for the next 45 minutes Mr. Escargot insisted on continually inching his way back up my throat. After tickling my tonsils one too many times I finally gave in and with a half cough, half sneeze expelled the gastropod back onto the garden wall. As he slowly slithered off I called out "No hard feelings" but he did not even look back. So much for "Bon Appetit" Bridget!

Now then this is my advice to you, Mr. Bogie;

1. Let your sister have all of your old toys. She will think you are really nice and will want to share with you when snacks are handed out.

2. When you get a new toy that you think is cool, hide it! You must only bring it out to play when your sister is sleeping or taking a bath.

3. Do not eat snails even though you are French. In addition, be really glad your sister is not a snail! Believe me your toys would taste way worse if she were a snail and the neighbor dogs would relentlessly tease you about your sister "The Gastropod".

4. As far as the odor and slobbery substance, your sister leaves on toys, I find rinsing my toys in the large porcelain-drinking bowl in the bathroom helps. Just make sure if you leave them in there to soak that your humans don't accidentally flush them away 'cause sometimes the toys will plug up the bowl, which will then over flow onto the floor and your humans will blame you for the mess when all you were doing was trying to practice good personal hygiene!

Do try and be patient as it could be worse. You could have a snooty cousin instead of a slobbery sister!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Check in next week for letters from my sisters!

2010-07-03T20:43:00.000-07:00

Happy Fourth of July!

Hey Girls It's Me Brent!

You all probably thought I'd fallen off the face of the earth or worse.
But no! It's all The Old Lady's fault. It started in mid June when she complained of a "GI bug" that just wouldn't go away. Well let me tell you I've seen lots of bugs in my life and even had a few fleas, but I never moaned and groaned like that! It lasted for weeks and to make matters worse The Old Girl put me in charge of the pups for "outdoor puppy play" in the afternoons.
She never asked me if I wanted to. She said that "As their older brother it's your responsibility to help out."
Yikes no body asked me if I wanted to be an older brother! And now I had responsibilities?
So for the past few weeks I've been stuck out side every afternoon with four frisky and to be honest not always very well behaved puppies! I have lots to tell so please check back in with me in a few days.
Oh and as far as The Old Lady goes, she is finally feeling better. She is back to her old self and bugging me on a regular bases. I have heard her tell The Old Man that since she "lost a few ponds with her GI bug" she might as well start her summer diet.

Well all I can say is It's about time Susan!

Take Care Girls!

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Brent and the new puppies

2010-07-03T20:26:00.001-07:00

(This was originally written by Brent in late April)

Sorry it's so late but "It's hard to get reliable proof readers these days!"

Hey Folks
Yep it's me Brent!

Just a quick note as we are all very busy here with my new brothers and sister puppies.
This morning while The Old Lady was cleaning up the kitchen (At last!) the big dog Doc opened the dog room/prison gate and set us all free. He is very smart and knows all sorts of tricks which if I was ever caught doing would be put in an immediate time out for life! While the big dog Doc and my snooty cousin Sonie ran into the kitchen to suck up to The Old Lady, I went looking for my Mom Biscuit whom I had not seen all week. I was worried! I looked for her in her regular hangouts like the living room couch, The Old Folk's bed and the up stairs bathroom where she likes to pilfer through the bathroom waste basket in hopes of finding a napkin full of cookie crumbs from the Old Man's late night cookie jar raids. But she was no where to be found!
I was about to give up hope when I stuck my head into the downstairs den, where I found her sitting with four very cute puppies that kinda reminded me of fat sausages. I know the next door dog Benny the beagle said they were coming, I just didn't know they were here already!

I was very excited as I asked them, in a cool older brother voice, "Hey guys, how's it going?" The pups just kept their eyes closed and didn't even try to return my salutation. To be honest I 'm afraid that they might be taking after my snooty cousin Sonie.
My mom Biscuit said I needed to keep my voice down so as not to disturb the babies. Since she is my mother and very smart I did as I was told and sat quietly next to my old puppy crib. I soon found watching the puppies rather boring as little puppies don't do a whole lot and seemed perfectly happy to just sleep and sleep and sleep some more. I must admit though, that I did enjoy watching my mom Biscuit. As I sat there staring at my mom's pretty boxer girl face and watching the gentle way she was caring for the new pups, (where they came from I'm not quite sure) I realized how much I had missed her so I leaned my head into the crib and gave her a kiss on her cheek, which I know she loves. That's when The Old Lady entered the room. She immediately let old a dramatic gasp and grabbed me by my collar. "You don't belong in here Brent, get out!" she bellowed. Talk about being too loud!
I looked to my mom Biscuit who just moments before had instructed me to lower my voice, but she had turned her attention back to the new pups and was ignoring both me and The Old Lady. Now I can't be sure, but I'm pretty sure that as The Old Girl dragged me away and closed the den door behind us I heard my mom Biscuit whisper, "I still love you Brent." I guess it really doesn't matter whether she did or not 'cause I know she does!"

Well have a nice morning,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

2010-06-12T08:04:00.000-07:00

A “Just Brent” Service Announcement

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

TO ALL OF

"MY HEY GIRLS IT'S ME BRENT"

AND

CANINE FRIENDS!

Beware! Do not let this happen to YOU!

Unfortunately, Some Humans (The Old Lady in particular) seem to have more SENIOR moments than others! They will unthinkingly place a wooden bowl filled with a display of summer fruits on the patio table and remark, "Now this looks festive and inviting!" and then walk away.

Unsuspectingly you stroll by and think... “Hmmm grapes. Well now, I feel both festive and invited!” You quietly take the green grapes out of the bowl and then scoot yourself out to your private corner in the yard behind the rose bushes. At this point, you ingest all of the grapes noting that they are a bit chewier than first appeared and they do not have that tasty flavor you had anticipated either. In fact, they actually taste much like your favorite red ball that you cannot find because your snooty cousin Sonie has taken it hostage! (Believe me girls I will rescue "Old Red" if it is the last thing I do!) After finishing off the "chewy" grapes your stomach will begin to utter "What the heck are these green blobs?" and return all of the grapes in one lurching motion on the patio steps. Then The Old lady will come upon them, react in one of her regular over the top dramatic diva modes, and shout "BRENT! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" It is at this point that the big dog Doc walking by you will stop and whispers in your ear "Dude what were you thinking? They're plastic......and besides that, DOGS CAN'T EAT GRAPES! Real, or plastic evidently!" Laughing to himself the big dog will walk over to your Mom Biscuit, who by now is standing with her head hanging in shame, and offer her re-assuring words that it's not her fault!
Later in a moment of blind weakness and self pity you might try and re-ingest one of the now obviously "plastic" grapes you find hanging off of a thorny rose bush, only to have your belly sputter it back up and out in protest to your now obvious ignorance. Some lessons are harder to learn than others are "Hey Girls" and Canine friends.

Never the less, learn I have and now you are warned!

DOGS AND GRAPES (REAL OR PLASTIC) DO NOT MIX EVER!

Thank You for Your Attention to this Matter,

Your Friend,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Post Warning, warning: The red waxy apples aren't so good for you either and they REALLY are TASTELESS!

Just Ask Brent!

2010-06-09T00:28:00.001-07:00

Dear Just Brent,

While I'm not one of your "girls", I am a huge fan!
First off I am an only pup. My Mom doesn't mind my being the one and only and as a pup-pup it was very cool having an open bar to myself at all times! But at six weeks she cut me off! I tried looking at her with my "sad soulful eye look” but she would just say "Don't even think about it kid!” My dear Grandma and Aunts kinda took over and would baby me, giving me lots of kisses and playing "peek a pup" with me. It was fun for awhile but at this point enough is enough! Don't get me wrong, I love my Gamma and my girlie girl Aunts. It's just now that I'm older I want to be spend more time with my way cool Uncle. I mean the guy rocks! He's got it all, good looks, attitude and respect from the ladies! He let's me hang out with him, but I can tell by the way he looks at me, he's thinking "Silly Puppy". My problem is I'm hardly a puppy anymore! I'm almost seven months old and filling out very nicely if I do say so myself!
How do I get my Mom, my Gamma, my girlie girl Aunts and my way cool Uncle to appreciate this fact?

Thanks,

Rememington

Age 7 months

AKA - Dude with a 'Tude in AZ.

Dear Dude with a 'Tude,

Getting the "Big Dog" , in your case your “way too cool Uncle”, to respect you can be a real challenge . It might surprise you but I have had some difficulties in this area myself. But here are a few ideas that have worked for me:

1. When the "Big Dog" is perusing the parameter of the property you can follow behind him at a respectful distance with a look in your eye of "I've got your back big guy”. He will like this as it supports him as the pack leader! But you must be very careful that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES do you get ahead of him. Because it could be very scary for you if you are the first one to confront a prowler or a snake or a neighbors new dog (even if it is a little one) and then when you run screaming like a pup-pup back into the house the "Big Dog" will snicker at you!

2. Laugh at all of the "Big Dog's" jokes whether you understand them or not. He will take this as a sign of camaraderie and think you as clever as he!

But under NO CIRCUMSTANCES ask your snooty cousin what the "Big Dog's" joke meant as she will tell everybody that you didn't "get it" and then they will all treat you like your the joke......and this will hurt your feelings really bad.

3. Always let the "Big Dog" eat first. This is a definite sign of respect and he will know you are a team member!

Do not under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES let the "Big Dog" catch you eating "TREAT". He will look at you with disdain in his eye and then shake his head as if to say "What rock did you crawl out from under kid ?"

Now as far as your Mom, Gamma and girlie girl Aunties, my advice is to get a new puppy!!!! A new puppy will absolutely make you look older and it will give you someone to boss around! But beware as a new puppy can be a double edged sword! The new puppy might be really cute and really soft and your Mom, Gamma, and girlie girl Aunties might like him better than you! So if you get one make sure to get an ugly one with scratchy fur!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Dear Just Brent,

I have recently found myself in a new home with folks I adore! I was wondering if you have any advice on how to ensure that they like me. I know that I am cute but how far can good looks really get you? I'm looking for some sound advice because I want them to really, really, really like me!

Thank You,
Gwen, THE Girl Boxer Dog
Age 5 months .
Rancho, CA

Dear Gwen,

How lucky you are to be in a home with NICE folks! Doesn't sound like you have a snooty cousin or The Old Lady bossy type of family. It is a good sign that you appreciate that early on.
As far as wanting them to really like you here is my advice:

1. Always act really happy to see them when they come in the door whether they have been gone 2 minutes or 2 days. Humans just love it when their dog acts all crazy with love when they see them. I know it is a bit humiliating at times to jump around, licking at their fingers, acting all bubbly 'cause they just walked in the door. Especially if they're return interrupts your snooze on the couch or counter surfing for a snack. But let us remember they are humans and because of that they need that dose of unconditional love on a regular bases to keep 'em going.

2. Do your business outside and not inside the house. Humans can act so lofty about their dogs excrement habits! But we are suppose to look the other way when they use the big porcelain water bowel in the bathroom to do their unmentionables. Heck, The Old Lady goes ballistic when I drink from it. Sometimes she is so hard to understand. Big bowl, with cold fresh water in it, at just the right height. What does she think it's there for?

3. Always, always play with them when ever you can. Humans need lots of exercise and a good game of fetch or chase can make all the difference in their day. Also try and walk them at least once a day pausing regularly to let them stop and smell the roses! Sometimes humans are in such a hurry, to do what I do not know, that they forget what is really important. Playing, eating and sleeping!

4. Just be yourself kid! Being cute and fun filled will make up for the few mistakes that we all make as pups. And don't forget, good looks can take you a long way, just look at me!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

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brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com if you do not receive verification of receipt within a few days please email to Bigdane220@yahoo.com

Thanks!

Brent and the Great Escape!

2010-06-01T21:48:00.000-07:00

(This story was written by Brent in early April of this year.)

( His proof readers are just slow!)

Hey Girls, It's me Brent!

What a day I had, let me tell you! I thought it was going to be "Curtains" for me and my mom Biscuit! It all started when I made the decision to unselfishly assist her in a very top secret project. I had noted recently that my mom Biscuit was not acting like her regular peppy self. She was becoming a bit snippy with the big dog Doc and on two occasions had very unkind words, with my snooty cousin Sonie, over nothing! My Mom was still nice to me but was refusing to play chase or to help me find "Old Red" my rubber ball and to be honest my Mom was beginning to pack on the pounds!

The Old Lady didn't seem concerned and wasn't doing anything to help! In fact she began offering my Mom mid-day snacks and plumping pillows for her at Siesta time. I was afraid that maybe The Old Lady was being so nice, because my Mom had some deadly disease ! That would explain the midnight ice cream socials that The Old Lady and my mom Biscuit were enjoying. Each night while watching reruns of "NCIS" and "Law and Order" they would share a mound of ice cream eating from the same bowl and using the same spoon! Yuck! There is nothing more disgusting than watching a human share their eating utensil with a dog! I mean REALLY! You never know where that humans mouth has been! There they are exposing that poor dog to all of their germs! I had the urge to call PETA on The Old Lady and report her for canine endangerment, but you know it's a real hassle trying to punch in a telephone number with paws. In the past when trying to order pizza for me and the gang, I mistakenly called a man in Chickaloon, Alaska. I didn't want to waste the call so I asked him if he could see Russia from his front porch and if he knew his refrigerator was running and if so he'd better catch it! I was laughing so hard I didn't hear what he said as he hung up on me, but it was obvious he didn't have much of a sense of humor

As my Mom's girth continued to grow so did my concerns for her. In desperation I asked my snooty cousin Sonie if she thought my Mom might soon be "dearly departed"? She said "No way! Anyone who can eat as much as your mom does, can't be dying! She's just F-A-T!" While some of her words rang true and were somewhat comforting, I still wanted to smack her on the snout for calling my Mom fat! She could have used nicer words like "well padded", "pudgy", or "plumped up". But no, not my snooty cousin Sonie. She went straight for the F-word and said it in a very snide tone. I reminded her in no uncertain terms that my Mom had once been a show girl. A "queen of the ring" and had done very well in her day. My snooty cousin Sonie only giggled and said "Yeah but look at her now, dude!”

"It's a sad day in the neighborhood" she whispered as she sashayed her firm tapered show girl figure in front of my Mom. To be honest though, my Mom Biscuit didn't seem to care. She just let out a big sigh, threw herself on the warm pavement and then turned over to sun her, now well endowed, chest area. I knew in that instant that something had to be done to help my mom Biscuit and that I was the one to do it.

The opportunity to do so came the very next day. In the early afternoon I found my Mom well hidden behind the large thyme bush in the rock garden. "Whatcha up to mom?" I asked casually "Quite! Keep your voice down. They might hear us!" she said in an irritated hushed tone.
Wondering who they might be I glanced around the rock garden but only noted a line of black ants marching along the wall. Now I find ants as fascinating as the next dog and at times a rather tasty snack. But I had never found them to be a security threat. Had garden espionage been occurring right under my nose? Of course my first instinct was to sniff at them. But having made that mistake last summer with a red ant I fought the urge.

Turning to my Mom I asked, "The a-n-t-s?" I spelled the word ants out in case they were listening! She turned her head slowly toward me with a look of disbelief in her eyes. "No, not the ants you goose! Over there." She pointed with her nose toward the house where The Old Lady and The Old Man were cleaning windows "I don't want them to know what I'm doing."
My Mom, not wanting The Old lady or The Old Man to know what she's doing? I was suddenly both excited and intrigued to say the least . "What is it that you are doing mom? "I whispered in her ear. "This!" she said in a very sleuthy voice, as she stepped away from the base of the thyme bush to reveal a very large hole.

It was the tingling in my paws that first made me realize that I was hyper ventilating. The site of such a magnificently large hole dug by my mother was more than a bit overwhelming. "You did all this?" I asked with a gush of pride.

"Yes and I'm not done yet. There is so much more digging to do and so little time." More digging to do and so little time. This could mean only one thing! My mom was planning an escape! Finally I was going to be free of my snooty cousin Sonie and The Old Lady's oppression!

When at last The Old Man and The Old Lady went back into the house my mom gave the order to "DIG!" And dig we did! Deeper and wider and wider and deeper we dug. As the hole grew the roots of the thyme bush were soon unearthed and a large branch of the bush started to lean into the hole.

"Brent, get that branch out of the way" my Mom called out to me from down in the hole. As I tore the branch away I took a step back and realized just how deep our hole was. "Gee Mom, where are we digging to China?" I asked half joking and half in fear of being mistaken for a delicacy at the other end of the hole.

As I was pulling the branch away from the hole I noticed The Old Lady standing behind the bush. My mom and I had been so busy with the digging that we hadn't heard her come up behind us. The Old Girl took the branch from my mouth and said "No Brent!" My Mom, now oblivious to her surroundings, continued digging at a feverish pace. I was trying to think up some brilliant excuse for the excavation when The Old Lady leaned over the now very, very deep hole and said quietly, "Come on Biscuit, that's enough. " The digging stopped and there was a moment of silence as my Mom realized that her digging plans were now squashed.

Because of the depth of the hole and my Mom's larger than normal girth The Old Girl had to grab on to my mom's tail to help hoist her out. Safely back upright on four legs and covered from head to paws in dirt my mom looked very tired and rather sad.

"It's okay Biscuit" The Old Lady said gently, "Let's get you inside for a bath." And with that the two of them went quietly into the house. There was no screaming from The Old lady, no threats of punishment, no time out in my jail/crate. Just quiet……

Oh my gosh! This could mean only one thing. My mom was dying! Walking over toward the fence I started to cry. As the hot tears rolled down my cheeks Benny the Beagle, who lived next door strutted over to the fence. "Gee, what's wrong with you kid" he asked

"It's my mom" I blubbered "she's dying."

"Your mom?" Benny the Beagle questioned "She looks fine to me."

I then proceeded to tell him about her sudden weight gain (avoiding the F-word) and how nice The Old Lady was treating her and then about our digging an escape tunnel.
It was at this point that Benny the Beagle started laughing. "Your such a melon head!" he chortled." Your mom's not fat or dying. She's just pregnant and by the looks of it ready to pop any day now!"

Not knowing what pregnant meant I just stared at him, feeling sadder and sadder 'cause my mom Biscuit is the best mom in the world and I wouldn't know what to do without her.

"She's going to have puppies. Your going to have new brothers and sisters. Your mom wasn't digging an escape tunnel, you noodle, it's hormonal she was nesting! Geezers Brent, what a numb nut you are!" and with that Benny turned and strutted back, on his short Beagle legs, to his dog house.

Hallelujah! My mom didn't have a deadly! I turned away from the fence and was beginning to feel that all might be right with the world again when I heard the back door slam and The Old Lady screeching my name. Darn that woman and her elephant like memory!
But I wasn't too upset 'cause what's a little or maybe a whole lot of time out in my jail/crate? My mom Biscuit wasn't dying! She was just pregnant and according to Benny, "Ready to pop any day now!" It was a GOOD day in the neighborhood after all!

So Girls it looks like I'm to be a brother again!

Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

"Just Ask Brent!"

2010-05-26T10:28:00.000-07:00

Hey Girls and Canine Friends, It's me Brent!

To show my thanks for all of your support with my blog, I am starting a "Just Ask Brent" weekly advice column! It will come out on Wednesdays, on my blog site, starting in two weeks.
Hopefully it will be very helpful in your daily life!

I encourage all of my friends in need of advice or who just want to share to go to my email site and submit a question or a tale! Remember I'll be two years old in August so please keep the questions and tales PG rated. If you have a canine medical emergency or question step away from your computer and .................
TAKE YOUR DOG TO THE VETERINARIAN ASAP! DON"T ASK ME WHAT TO DO!
I won't know the answer 'cause I am a dog and my blog and column are just for fun!

Be aware though................

Side effects of "Just Ask Brent" may include:

Smiling, thinking, agreeing, disagreeing, wanting to take your dog on more walks, wishing your dog was as smart as THAT dog you read about in my column, having the urge to go to more parks and fun places with your dog, petting and playing with your dog more often, and of course allowing your dog to sleep in bed with you.

"Just Ask Brent" will not cause :

You or your dog to gain weight, lose weight, have whitier teeth, increased male pattern baldness, erectile dysfunction or hemorrhoids. Okay so I don't really know what those last three are but I see LOTS of commercials about them so I'm thinking they're contagious!

"Just Ask Brent"

brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com