Your Ringo is quite a star, Jen D.
"Hey, sweetie, hold still. You got something in your eye." (slurp, slurp)
"Wha-? I don’t feel anything! Cut it out!"
"I’m serious," (slurp) "There’s something in your eye." (slurp, slurp)
"Wait, are you sure, because I swear I don’t …"
"Just" (slurp) "hold still, willya?" (slurp, slurp) "You got something in your eye!" (slurp)
"WHAT?! WHAT HAVE I GOT MY EYE?!?!?!"
"My tongue. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
I suppose it’ll be "pull my paw" next, eh, Sara L.?
While the common dog enthusiast may content himself to costume his cur in the guise of hackneyed pop-culture icons, retro-urban folk archetypes, or even perverse attempts at species confusion, the intellectual dog owner seeks to cloak Man’s Best Friend not in the artificiality of cloth, but in the transcendence of Truth. It is for these enlightened few that The Cute Overload School of Philosophy Gift Shop is pleased to offer …
The Immanuel Kant Doggie Dress-Up Kit!
Each kit includes a deluxe leather-bound edition of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason translated into Dog, a set of Categories of the Understanding flash cards, and an easy-to-learn guide to teaching your dog pensive philosophical poses.
To order, contact Ian O.
This just in, Maria Sharapova’s dog’s ball has been stolen.
Allegedly, cunning mini thief "Sniffles" (pictured below) is to blame. According to our sources, the trouble began when Alla Kudryavtseva shocked Wimbledon audiences by beating Sharapova. It was then that Sniffles blatantly stole (and ravenously chewed on) the winning tennis ball from the Sharapova/Kudryavtseva upset match.
Sharapova’s pup "Dolce" could not be reached for comment.
Double fault, Jennifer L.!
Imperial Beach was once again home to the Loews Coronado Bay Resort Surf Dog Competition, where pups surfed to wild applause… Some photos from the past couple of years competishe:
OOOOO? <–head just tilted
Thanks to the giggular Heather G.
"Lordy me, that picture takes me back. It was at the Rotary Club picnic, and there was this boy — and I swear he must have followed us the whole afternoon, working up his nerve. Finally he comes up to me — and of course he was much thinner then, dont’cha know, and he still had all his fur — and he just stands there, staring.
"Well, after a few minutes of this, I give up and turn to get some more tuna casserole, and he just up and bites me on the tail! Right in front of everybody! And well, of course I’m just madder than I-don’t-know-what-all, and I’m about to haul off and slug him, when I get a look into his eyes. And it was like they were pleading with me: Don’t go.
"And I figured, if a feller wants a girl bad enough to bite her on the tail, he must want her awful bad. That was forty-seven years ago, and we been together ever since. Missed the fireworks and everything.
"Well, not entirely."
Thanks for the memories, Dia H.