Thu - December 13, 2007

MINUTAE MINUET

Take off those suede shoes.
They're blue.
Like you.

BLUE. PERIOD.
Tough times. But more than enough time to think.
Thought is a dog's folly. Especially at this reflective time of year.
Holly? We can't touch it. Poinsettias, the same.
We are distanced from the rites and beauty, but close enough for temptation.
Blue. The collective color of the sky, and of collective sighs.
Why did Picasso do it, that Blue Period of his. It couldn't have been a paint sale.
Much too logical.
No, there was something else. Exploration, introspection ... drama.
Drama.
Introspection is never dramatic, never appearing on stage in full paint, never dancing with the stars.
We dance with the dogs.
We twirl our follies and announce our woes, but do so quietly. We are dogs of reason.
Such a rambunctious time of the season, with its insistence on mirth and giving. Our keener noses detect desperation under the smell of gingerbread. The smell of singed credit cards fills the air.
Dogs seldom ask for credit, knowing credit cannot be given. It must be earned.
Now our thoughts have partnered with us long enough, and they signal to us that they'd like to sit the next one out. It's time to make that gingerbread, those chocolate shortbread cookies. We have our places in the kitchen. We have our bed and our toys, our bowls of water and biscuits.
There's the Christmas cactus. Not blue. Pink. Fuschia. White. We can admire it, sample it if we want to. But we don't destroy rough beauty.
There are shades of blue, and there are shades of thought. Picassso churned blue to life. We will mold our blue into something else entirely.
Blue wires. Picasso Christmas. Gingerbread dogs.
We'll bake chocolate shortbread tonight. The Scottish remedy: butter and sugar for what ails you.
The whisky can wait another day.

Posted at 08:55 AM      

Tue - June 8, 2004

A Cold Warrior Vs. The Bold Warrior

EENIE, MEENIE, JELLY BEANIE, THE SPIRITED DOG IS ABOUT TO SPEAK

Zephyr bites back from The Afterlife to share a few memories of Ronnie.

Photo of Zephyr as a wild beast beside her Spitting Image Ronnie Dog Toy?
By Joe the Cat, of course.

Zephyr's back, and we're staying out of her way.
Zephyr was our predecessor, and she lived from 1982 to 1998. Her presence is everywhere around the house. I'd say "our house" but she'd correct me ... in a most definite way.
Zephyr was one of those dogs who didn't get along with other dogs. A throwback to landed gentry Victorian terriers who lived to chomp rats and servants. Oh, and her Spitting Image Ronald Reagan dog toy. We're told she absolutely loved that.
Since Zephyr was born during Reagan's first presidential term, and has her own Reagan, we thought it opportune that she share some of her memories. She wouldn't agree to an interview, so she's going to speak extemporaneously. Now we're getting out of her path ... she's a wire's wire, so don't say we didn't warn you.
--Nigel

ZEPHYR:
Ronnie Reagan! My old toy! My Doggie Dad bought that for me in London, in 1985. They made quality vinyl in those days. Oh, did I love that toy ... bit it and chased it ... just worried it like a rat stuck in my teeth. I didn't really like that toy, though. I just couldn't respect him. Not a bit ... or a bite. Maybe that's why I enjoyed savaging him ...
Reagan ... you had to be around to listen to him. No one but me could never pin him down; his people wouldn't allow it. And when he did give a press conference, he was handled, handled, handled ... you'd think he was showing at Westminster.
But when I would get a good hold on him ... oh, how he would squeak! Just begging for mercy. But would I relent? Not on your life. Take no prisoners has always been my motto. A wire just has to be a wire, after all.
I was, and still am, an iconoclast. I had a healthy skepticism of authority and a respect for tenacity. Everything I ever heard about President Carter, even though I did not have a President Jimmy Carter toy (did they make them?) ... I know I would have treated a toy like that with choice regard. Because at least Carter stood up to the Ayatollah and refused to make a deal for the hostages.
But, back to my Ronnie toy!
Ronnie has faded a bit, I see. He bears the scars of our battles. A bit worn and tattered, he sits in the kitchen, at no cost to the taxpayers. Ronnie was retired from toydom some years ago ... at the rate I was going with our little play "sessions" it was obvious that Ron was not going to last. His sunset years are spent in the kitchen, atop the old radio. Nice digs, really.
The radio is on the counter, right next to the refrigerator.
I know what you're thinking ... the Cold Warrior next to the Coldspot. Well, it's a Whirlpool.
Ronnie ... next to the fridge ... with the obligatory bottle of ketchup. Remember the Reagan administration's assertion that ketchup was a vegetable ? Ed Meese and all that?
Yes, Ronnie, right next to the Polish sausages and the pierogi from the local Polish deli. Fitting.
What's all this yammering about Ronnie bringing down Communisn and the Soviet Union? People are falling for that Cold Warrior bologna?
The Sovet Union was a decrepit pile of overextended cards, just waiting to tumble. Of course, it helped that Mikhail Gorbachev was at the helm .. he had the vision and intelligence to see the inevitable. How I wish I had the Spitting Image Gorbachev dog toy! But no! They bought one of those in London, the same time they bought my Ronnie toy ... but did they give both toys to me! No. They foolishly gave Mikhail away as a gift to someone whose dog probably didn't appreciate Gorby. I just know it.
Don't forget the Poles, Solidarity and Lech Walesa ... the Poles also broke the backs of the Sovs... they stood up and just said "NO!" But the Poles never receive credit for anything, not even with Pope John Paul II rooting for them. Of course, John Paul also was there to campaign for the Soviet Union's demise. He doesn't get much credit for that, either.
Instead, people appear intent on heaping credit for the end of the Cold War upon Ronnie... yeah, right. Not the Ronnie I know... The end of cold cuts ... maybe.
That's it .. session's up. I have rats to nab, little necks to snap. We have rats in what you might think of as The Afterlife. Of course, we do, if terriers are to remain happy. Lots of people here, too. Just not my Ronnie Reagan.
-- Zephyr

Posted at 11:07 AM      

Sun - February 8, 2004

Life in Bonnieville

We receive a letter from friend and canine diarist Toby, who asks if art imitates life, or if floorcloths imitate dogs.
He has the floor.

Toby and his pack live a solid car drive away, across Tampa Bay, and in a little enclave we like to think of as New Bonnieville, Florida.(He used to live in Old Bonnieville, but more on that later.)

Actually, Toby and crew live in Brandon, but that doesn't have the allure of New Bonnieville. And his mother's name is Bonnie, and you can bet she's the Mayor and Sheriff and Primary Lawmaker of Bonnieville. Stands to reason.
Toby is a bit of a Pepys . We think you'll find his letter of interest.



Toby and crew are floored. Toby is at lower right. Asher at top left,
Phisboe and Wicket in second panel from right.
Toby's parents can be found scattered on the rug. (We just had to say that.)
Joe the Cat did his best. It is a large floorcloth.


Toby goes eye-to-eye with his Dad.

Toby writes:
Dear Nigel and Gimlet,
Thank you for my floorcloth. It is very cool, just like me.
Though we haven't met nose to tail, you must have heard of me since your mom painted me. I am Toby.
As you can see from the photos, you mom also painted my big sister White Fang, Lizard Breath Asher, Ancient One Phisboe The Beloved, and made a shrine to Wicket, former Guardian Of All Things.
But mostly the floorcloth is of me.
It even features my favorite musical instrument, the Carrot, which I play very well because I practice a LOT. If you are interested in making music, you need an instrument that lasts and lasts. I highly recommend Carrots over Bananas, Dinosaurs, or Teddy Bears. The latter do not hold up to a prolonged musical session by a serious music-making dog like me.
Wooooo!!!!
Your mom made my floorclotth for my old farmhouse where I grew up. I'm 5. It had big old oak trees filled with squirrels and opossums and racoons and sandhill cranes. I like my old house very much. I had kitchen window-watch duty there.


The old farmhouse (in Old Bonnieville) where Toby grew up.
He now lives in New Bonnieville.

As soon as Mom or Dad drove up, it was my job to bark the welcome bark. Phisboe does the welcome twirl (even now at her great age) and Asher does the welcome wag.
Last year, the whole family moved to a house on a lake and there are ducks and fishcatching birds, It was very confusing and upsetting to move. There were boxes and unfamiliar places and smells. I've about decided that we can stay, though. We have a pool and Mom is trying to teach me how to swim. Can you swim?
Asher keeps the room-in-a-cage area free of lizards by tossing them into the pool, but I'm not that interested in lizards. Yet.
I'm Toby won Kanobe.
As a frequent reader of your blog, I have some observations for you:
On Politics: Bushes are for peeing on. Crown me!
On Foreign Relations: What's a housecat?
On Art: Great art is walkable, sleepable, eatable or playable.
On Religion: Breakfast is at 8, Dinner's at 6 and Treat's at 10. All other time must be spent playing, guarding, sleeping. That is the Way of Life.
If you need more instructions, please let me know. I can always help. I'm Toby.
I hope you'll bark back to me.
--Toby


Asher stands guard near the likeness of her done in her "Ginger"
(read "Asher Alert!") mode.

Well, Toby, we are so glad you wrote!
We are barking back!
That floorcloth is as colorful as your pack. We like that.
Your preferred musical instrument is the carrot? Similar to the oboe or flute? Now you're talking dogsqueak.
Toby, your political views are ... interesting. Peeing on bushes. What could that mean? Does it mean you prefer Kerry Blue Terriers? Because, we are wires here at Mr. Doodle's Dog. We like to think of ourselves as friendly to all breeds, however.
Nigel is a champion swimmer. Gimlet .... is reluctant, but getting better. Joe the Cat? Don't ask.
We agree that great art can be for walking on... the beauty of modern art is that it is accessible and, with hope, understood, by the public. We Doodles are just not into the representational style. You want lifelike? Get out the camera.
Food as religion? Now that's All-American, that's not just for canines. Dog can be your co-pilot and your sous chef.
Thank you for writing, Toby. Your family and home sound tres shih....

Posted at 09:36 AM      

Thu - January 22, 2004

Presidential Race

I can't watch.

Yikes.
George Bush scares me.
I watch "The Daily Show" to get my news ... somehow, I think the humor will make things easier.
It doesn't.
I'm scared.

Posted at 08:25 PM      

Mon - September 1, 2003

The Fur Flies

We join forces with The Daily Dave to bring you an interview with America's Favorite Housecat Watson

From his first appearance on The Daily Dave, he became a feline icon:

"Meanwhile, Watson the Cat in Huntsville, Ala., writes:
I read the Daily Dave every day except when I am biting the irritating humans that I let live in my house. They are very obnoxious especially the female one. Please include more articles on staring at people and recipes on tuna fish."

He has been quoted by pop culture jimjams, dangled over balconies by Michael Jackson, and quoted on The Daily Show.
He is America's Favorite Housecat Watson.
And he is here with us today.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: Hello, Watson. Thank you for agreeing to this interview on Mr. Doodle's Dog.
Joe the Cat is here as a technical consultant and translator, should the need arise. You are the first cat we have interviewed for our blog. We've interviewed two terriers, one live and one dead, but you're our first cat.
Your big brother Dave provided us with some personal reflections of his long association with you. You should know that he divulged more than a few of your little "idiosyncrasies." In fact, he confided to us that he is writing your unauthorized biography. That could be the cause of his recent decline in blogging. You may want to "have a word" with him later. We are very pleased to have you here.

WATSON: Nigel and Gimlet, please accept my apologies for the delay in responding to your questions. I have been busy campaigning against the Sept. 9th tax increase ballot initiative here in Alabama. Let me add what an honor it is to be interviewed by both of you. Your fame precedes you and I often read your blog. I notice that you have already interviewed the two terriers, one alive and one dead. Was the deceased dog alive during the interview, only to die afterward? or was he dead and you did some sort of a dog seance? That would be cool.

NIGEL: The deceased dog was Franklin Roosevelt's Scottish Terrier Fala, and we channeled him through a Ouija board. Now, Watson, we have a few questions ...
GIMLET: Watson, I like your color combination... black and white.
WATSON: It's a classic.
NIGEL: As are you, Watson. Now, for the questions ...

NIGEL AND GIMLET: Your title on The Daily Dave is "America's Favorite Housecat." Do you in fact spend most of your time in the house, or do you have an outside career?
WATSON: I have retired from my job as President of the Florida Patio Patrol Association, a job requiring cat-like reflexes, the ability to catch lizards and sleeping in the sun. I now spend all of my time in the house working on my new hobbies. I am making an in-depth comparison of sleeping places in the house. I am also working on my memoirs, but it's slow going as I have trouble typing for long periods of time -- it's the no thumbs thing.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: Birds: eaten head- or feet first?
WATSON: The only birds that I like to eat are of the chicken and turkey variety and cooked and served with barbecue sauce. I'm not sure that I could actually stomach a live bird ... chance of salmonella ... poultry should be cooked to at least 150 degrees; however usually my staff will bring me leftovers from restaurants they have been to.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: The Daily Dave tells us that you won a bronze medal in Napping. This is a favorite sport of ours. One of Nigel's canine titles is Champion Sofa Sleeper. Would you be willing to recount a recent dream of yours?
WATSON: It is hard to remember a specific dream since I sleep 23+ hours a day. However most of my dreams seem to be about tuna fish and running for Governor of California.
GIMLET:: I'd vote for you!
JOE THE CAT: Lots of tuna restaurants in California.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: You are Watson. Who is your Holmes?
WATSON: I work alone.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: Belly rubs: two or four legs in the air? and do you scratch the person afterwards?
WATSON: I hate belly rubs and will bite anyone who tries to rub my belly. Sorry, but it's probably some type of psychological thing that I picked up during kittenhood.

JOE THE CAT: You spy a large mouse traipsing on your parents' feet as they sleep. Your reaction?
WATSON: I would get out of the way when the parent figures would run screaming out of the bedroom. I would be laughing uncontrollably.



NIGEL AND GIMLET: How long have you gone without moving even a whisker?
WATSON: Hours, or until it is time to eat.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: How many of your nine lives have you lived, and what are your regrets, if any?
WATSON: I regret that I have only one life to give for my ... wait, that's my response to something else ... I had to retire. It was not intentional on my part. My staff made me retire when we moved.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: Whom do you prefer: Sylvester or Felix?
WATSON: I have no respect for Sylvester since he has never been able to catch Tweety Bird. To make matters worse, Tweety Bird constantly ridicules him. So I guess that Felix wins. But I also admire Top Cat, Mufasa and Tony the Tiger.
GIMLET: Tony knows how to frost a flake.
NIGEL AND GIMLET: Which has the most appeal for you: tuna or human flesh?
WATSON: I would have to go with the tuna. I love days when my human mom is home for lunch. She always gives me some tuna for lunch.
NIGEL: So you don't have your human mom as lunch ... interesting.

NIGEL AND GIMLET: Finally, Robert Frost wrote that the "fog comes on little cat feet" ... how do you arrive?
WATSON; I believe that was written by Carl Sandburg.
NIGEL: What? Really? So much for our research department, Gimlet.
GIMLET: Hey, I'm only familiar with Edward Lear.
WATSON: Well ... I would describe my walk as regal and manly. Whenever I don't quite make the jump I had planned I look around to see if anyone saw me. If they did, then I act like I wasn't planning to jump up.
JOE THE CAT: That's the way to do it ...

WATSON: Thanks to both of you for this opportunity to be interviewed. I have deep respect for my dog friends. I was raised by two of them in Florida, the dearly departed Gemma and Chelsea. Both were born in the United Kingdom, but later became naturalized United States dogs.
NIGEL: We've enjoyed your visit, Watson. No wonder you're considered one of the major voices in cat culture.
GIMLET: Let's do this again. You're welcome to come back any time, Watson.
JOE THE CAT: Hey, Watson, want to go out for a bite?

Posted at 11:37 AM      

Fri - August 29, 2003

No leg to stand on

Whine, whine, whine .... We write letters ... and sometimes we don't hear back!

We are baffled and buffaloed, clipped and shorn ... we fear we are being ignored!
Is it possible that some corporations still ignore canine correspondence ... in this day and age?
We recently wrote an e-mail to Devil's Lair , the purveyors of Fifth Leg Wines.

Hello.
My humans discovered a bottle of your 1999 wine at Big Town U.S.A., our local liquor store. They were drawn to the bottle by no more than the distinctive dog on your label. Would you mind if I asked a few questions?

What breed of dog is featured on your labels?
Where did the concept of using dogs on your labels originate?
Does the president of your company own a dog, and if so, what breed?
Do you need a real dog to act as your spokesdog? If so, would you be interested in me?

I'm a wire fox terrier and the proprietor of the blog "Mr. Doodle's Dog."
Thank you for your time. My humans and I are quite taken with your artistic notions!
Sincerely,
Nigel Prescott
Wire Fox Terrier

The next day we had a reply from Maria Vo, the Consumer Relations Coordinator in Australia for Devil's Lair Wines. They are the umbrella corporation under which Fifth Leg stands.
Ms. Vo thanked us for our inquiry and said she was forwarding our questions to the consumer relations specialist in their American office.
That was on August 18.
No word yet.
We're waiting. We're working on fuming.
Terriers are tenacious ... we will keep vigil for hours at a rat's hangout ... but we can also be impatient.
We're wondering if our inquiry was not taken seriously because it was written by dogs. Or maybe Australian consumer relations specialists have better humor than their American counterparts?
How ironic would it be if a company that uses dog motifs on its product line didn't acknowledge dog e-mail? Quite a few dogs have been used in advertising. Can you say Nipper? And where would the Cracker Jack kid be without his dog? Shanghaied, probably.
Take a look at the dog on the label of their 1999 vintage:

Pretty neat.
We're going to write the people at Fifth Leg again and see what happens. We'll keep you posted.

Posted at 10:44 AM      

Mon - August 18, 2003

A Big Deal

FDR's canine companion Fala checks in with observations on what makes a perfect president.

Gimlet: It's dark in here with just the candles.
Nigel: Dogs see better in low light. People probably do, too, but they just don't realize it.
Gimlet: The board is moving all over the place ..... Hello, Fala!
Nigel: Hello, sir. Good of you to come and speak with us.
Fala: Oh, it's good to be here. Nice of you to have me on your dog blog.
Gimlet: How is President Roosevelt? You were buried at his feet, weren't you, since you were his closest companion?
Fala: Franklin is fine. He's not happy at the way things are being handled right now, but he says things will get better.
Nigel: When?
Fala: Next November, with any luck.
Gimlet: Hahahahahahahaha!!!
Nigel: It's funny, but it's sad, too. All at once.
Fala: No kidding. I feel for that poor Barney.
Gimlet: We have to remind our readers that Barney is the Scottish Terrier who lives with President Bush.
Nigel: I'm not sure he's really the President.
Fala: He's not.
Nigel: You mean Al Gore really won the election? How do you know?
Fala: I'm a Scottish Terrier and I'm dead ... I know everything.
Gimlet: Grrrrrrr. Let's nip him and drag him out of the place!
Nigel: Oh, he'll be going soon enough ... Fala, what was it like to live with President Roosevelt?
Fala: Franklin was just the best. Still is. We went everywhere together, he took me for rides ... car, train, airplane, ship ... you name it, we rode in it.
Gimlet: Did he drive a car? I thought his legs were paralyzed by polio.
Fala: Sure he drove his own car! He had special hand controls and brakes. I bet he was a better driver than Laura Bush.
Nigel: What do you mean?
Fala: Well, she has a little something in her driving past ... Can you say vehicular homicide? She was 17 and driving her car in her little Texas town when she ran a stop sign. She ran over and killed a person ... turned out to be her ex-boyfriend.
Gimlet: Oh my Dog!
Fala: It's not a secret, but the records have been a trifle ... expunged. It's not something the press brings up much.
Nigel: Watch out, Barney!
Gimlet: Maybe President Bush could take Barney for a ride.
Fala: Uh, I don't know about the wisdom of that.
Nigel: Oh yeah. The DUI and the alcoholism. Yeah, Barney would be better off taking the bus.
Fala: Poor Barney. I had it so good.
Gimlet: But President Roosevelt drank cocktails, didn't he?
Fala: President Roosevelt knew how to handle his liquor, the country, and just about everything else. He had to. The fate of the world depended on it.
Nigel: True. And he did all of those things, plus was a great human to you.
Fala: He was, and is, the best.
Gimlet: Will there ever be another president like him?
Fala: Only if people pay attention and learn to think for themselves. We're terriers, we know all about that, but lots of people don't. It's your duty to show them how.
Nigel: You're talking about basic obedience for humans ... Good idea!
Gimlet: Wooooooooo!!!
Fala: I have to be going, Franklin likes me to stay at his side.
Nigel: What advice would you give to Barney, to help make his White House tenure as wonderful as yours?
Fala: Just this: Barney, the next time you see an open door, make a run for it. Don't look back!
Gimlet: Thanks, Fala! Nice talking with you.
Nigel: Cheers, sir!
Fala: Until next time!

Posted at 10:25 PM