Name:Harrison Location:United States

The Original Lovable Little Fuzzball

Here's the straight stuff.

The adventures of Harrison are true.
Try a few of his Crunchy Bites for a taste.
--Alpha Human Mom

Friday, December 28, 2007


It must be getting' pretty Westminsteresque at that Iowa show with the candidates prancin' their circles and people flockin' in from all points of the compass to vote in the Best of Breed and Best of Opposite Sex catagories. Havin' been in that sort of free-for-all competition myself, I can tell ya' it's no picnic tryin' to be dignified and serious for the judges while flirtin' and swaggerin' for the cameras. Everyone wants a piece of the election action, 'specially Hollywood types who wouldn't know how to spell Iowa if ya' spotted 'em three vowels.

I'm sure y'all read about the Oprah Effect and how some analysts expect her to get thousands of votes for Bar-ack! Obama simply by the power of suggestion.

"If Oprah went on her show tomorrow and said the ultimate key to inner peace is to pretend you're a dog instead of saying hello when you greet other people, you wouldn't get through your day without somebody greeting you with a "Woof! Woof!" while sniffing your ankles."

Just a warnin' in case the big O does suggest somethin' like that—we canines don't get acquainted by sniffin' ankles. Oh, and here's another warnin' about the sort of voters she might attract.

"A study of 289 older women without dementia found that those who rated talk shows and soaps as their favorite programs performed more poorly on tests of memory, attention and mental quickness than their peers who cited other types of shows.

"What's more, they were at greater risk of showing signs of clinical impairment… [T]hose who favored soaps were more than seven times more likely to show signs of impairment on one of the tests, while talk show fans were more than 13 times more likely to demonstrate impairment. "Those findings are quite robust," [Dr. Joshua Fogel of Brooklyn College of the City University of New York] told Reuters Health." [Emphasis mine.]

Sounds like Bar-ack! has the crazy-Aunt-Heddys-in-the-attic all wrapped up.

More importantly, the Obama family has no pets, though Daddy Obama has been promisin' his kids a dog. (Can you say Labrador Retriever?) Hmmmmm… So far he hasn't followed through. Far as I'm concerned, that makes all those other promises he’s slingin’ around smell worse than the turkey carcass that went missin’ the day after Christmas and you found wedged behind the clothes dryer a week later. (Just for the record, I was not directly involved in the turkey-carcass-filchin’ incident. That was my little brother Higgins, who was a dedicated climber—‘specially when some fool left the stepstool beside the kitchen counter.)

So, gettin’ down to the rib bones of the Bar-ack! candidacy: if he can't keep a promise to his own kids, what the hell can the rest of us expect?

Just another Demo-cat h-ack-in' up hairballs.

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posted by Harrison at 11:37 PM


Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Huckleberry Hounded

Just realized the first round competition for candidates happens next week, 'though why anyone thinks havin' a bunch a people vote on somethin' when they're still nursin' a hangover from New Year's Eve is beyond me. Then again, since so many seem to be seriously considerin' a good ole' boy former governor from Hope, Arkansas as a suitable candidate they've already been swillin' the moonshine for waaaay too long. Guess they didn't learn anything from the last time they went the good-ole'-boy-former-governor-from-Hope-Arkansas route.

Now, who you have for a non-human companion (and which non-human companion will have you) can say a lot to potential voters. The AP says the Huckabee family has a Shih Tzu named Sonic, and a black lab named Jet. (The Salt Lake Tribune says Jet's a plain ole' huntin' dog. Potato-patahto. Whatever ya' call him, Huckleberry better keep both of 'em away from his son who seems to have some Vick-ed tendencies.)

Okay, let’s take a closer sniff. First, the Labrador Retriever is the most popular dog breed in the US (and with Russian pres Vladimir Putin). That makes me wonder if Huckleberry is a follow-the-crowd, go-along-to-get-along type, ‘specially since the other two candidates livin’ with Labs are both Demo-cats. With his previous record, if Huck gets to be President with a Demo-cat Congress I'm not likin' our chances of avoidin' more taxes and regulations.

On the other paw, it is a type of gun dog, which plays well with the Second Amendment supporters. Namin’ the poor guy Jet (as in “jet black”), however, doesn’t bode well for Huckleberry’s outside-the-box thinkin’ skills. Okay, okay, maybe Jet did get his name from being fast. I’ll consider speed analogies only because the little Shih Tzu twerp half of the Huckabee canine duo is called “Sonic.” Either that or as a pup the kid looked like a hedgehog and Sonic is a way Huckleberry can claim there's no generation gap with the video-gamin’ set.

However, since I’m an expert on canine breeds—bein’ one myself ‘n all—I’m getting a whiff of kitty litter from that direction. See, Shih Tzu is literally “Lion Dog” in Chinese and frankly I’ve had enough of the Arkansas/China connection to last me forever. And maybe—just maybe—Huck is unconsciously showin’ his Demo-cat/liberal side by ownin’ a canine that has been described by some as part domestic fe-lyin’.

My verdict? Four paws down for Mike Huckabee.

(Okay Boris, your turn.)

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posted by Harrison at 10:06 PM


Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Merry Christmas

AHM kept us up 'til midnight 'cause (accordin' to a story she heard as as pup) at midnight on Christmas Eve, all the animals talk. English, I suppose. She hasn't figured out we're only awake at this hour 'cause we're waitin' for her to speak canine.


And it's still seventeen hours twenty-two minutes 'til turkey!

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posted by Harrison at 12:38 AM


Saturday, December 15, 2007

Kibbles 'n Bits®

There's a sayin' out there that AHM occasionally mutters when we're readin' the current news. 'Course she likes to show off by speakin' French and since I'm no pansy poodle, I gotta' trust her translation. Gnawed down to the bone it just means same ole' same ole'. That Darwin fellow must have been full of it 'cause you humans haven't progressed an inch as far as I can tell.

Fe-lyings, on the other paw, just keep getting' dumb and dumber. Now they've taken to wearin' snakes as a fashion accessory.

"Owner Wendy Wallis was outside playing with her children in their…garden on Tuesday when the nine-year-old family pet wandered in through the gate from a paddock. "At first I thought she had a bird in her mouth, but then I realised it was a snake wrapped twice around her neck and knotted under her chin," Mrs Wallis said yesterday."

If anyone cares, the idiot fe-lyin' is recoverin'—after costin' its family a bundle in vet bills.

Fortunately some scientist in Korea decided it was time we could find the little suckers in the dark. The result--fluorescent cats.

"Researchers in South Korea have cloned a cat and modified its genes so that it will glow red under ultraviolet light, the Korea Times reports."

Red, drat it. I was hopin' for neon pink to match the flamingos at the Cute House.

Movin' right along, here's a bit of evidence provin' you should never underestimate a canine…or leave 'em alone in the kitchen. This one, f'instance, won a pie-eatin' contest by swallowin' a pie minute.

"Organisers of today's world pie-eating championships were thrown into panic when a dog ate all the pies. They were hoping bakers could produce replacements for at least 10 pies wolfed down by Charlie, a diminutive Bichon Frise belonging to 1995 champion Dave Williams who was entrusted with guarding the pastries. "I only turned my back for 10 minutes and they were gone," Williams told the Daily Mirror."

Bet they didn't even given him the blue ribbon.

Then there's the pup who figured he got his Christmas chew toy a few days early.

"Kann Veasna took a break from drinking wine at a street stall to relieve himself through a hole in a fence… However a puppy spotted the Mr Veasna's appendage as it poked through and apparently thinking it was a toy latched on… Suffering lacerations Mr Veasna [went to] a hospital in Phnom Penh for treatment and was forced to tell the embarrassing story of injuries. "It's undoubtedly sore now, but luckily it should still be useful to him in the future,'' a doctor was quoted…"

Not so sure that guy should be reproducin'.

Every year at Christmas people get warnings not to give their kids a puppy on Christmas morning. Here's the exception

"Family of slain Marine gets dog for Christmas: Lex, their son's partner in Iraq. Marine Cpl. Dustin Jerome Lee and his German shepherd scoured Iraq for roadside bombs together, slept next to each other and even posed in Santa hats for a holiday photo.

"When a mortar attack killed the 20-year-old Marine in Fallujah a few months later, Lex, whimpering from his own injuries, had to be pulled away, Lee's father was told. That strong bond compelled the slain Marine's family to adopt 8-year-old Lex…"

Sometimes our military bureaucracy gets it right.

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posted by Harrison at 11:15 PM


Tuesday, December 11, 2007

It’s Time…

…to get back into the fray. AHM tried the retirement game on me a few years ago. Didn’t work then and it’s not workin’ now, ‘specially with a Presidential election comin’ up! No way am I gonna’ let the canine analyst gig rest in the paws of some wet-behind-the-ears pup.

Even now I’m sniffin’ around into the background of all those non-human companions vyin’ to replace Barney as First Somethin’-or-Other. (Okay, so Bill probably has a lock on that title if Hillary gets elected, but ya’ gotta’ cover all the wet spots on the rug just in case.) And if ya' think it’s an easy job, well, you just try stickin’ your nose up the butt of fe-lyings, ferrets, fishies, and multicolored feather boas (aka, parrots). I’ll report back when I have all the dirty litter.

Until then, we’re celebratin’ Christmas in the best modern tradition…buyin’ stuff to send off to people who already have enough stuff but who expect us to send ‘em stuff anyway. AHM’s always complainin’ she’s supplied enough stuff to stuff yard sales well into the third millennium.

So, since I can’t let a second Christmas go without creatin’ a list for those of you out there who need a special, last minute gift that will generate that unique holiday expression: “What the hell is it?” (immediately followed by: “And why the **** did they send it to me.) here ya’ go:

For people who wish they had a canine of superior intelligence with the ability to communicate (like me), here’s another in a long line of talkin’ dog collars. They’ll be goin’ fast at the low-low sale price of just $19.95—includin’ batteries!

“This amazing gadget device simply attaches to a dog's collar. Works right off of a wireless remote. When visitors walk in, your dog can now greet them instead of you~! The sound voices comes [sic] right out of the dog shaped bone! AMAZING! Now you can make all of your pups and dogs talk!”

’Course it’s not quite so amazin’ when you read the list of vocal options and…um…farts.

Next, as a special treat for canines everywhere who need to brush up on their fe-lyin’ fightin’ skills I give you the Cat Acupuncture Model. ($34.95 plus S&H)

“This 11" long, hollow rubber Cat Acupuncture Model on a wooden base and accompanying booklet will give you a guide to the feline meridians.”

Guide to meridians, huh? Like I don’t already know where to stick a needle in a fe-lyin’.

And if the flyin' fur gets too thick, gather it up and send it to these guys

"Specializing in Mail Order Custom Handspun Yarn from Your Very Important Pets!"

Maybe ya' can re-knit that fe-lyin in time for next Christmas.

Just the other day I was readin’ ‘bout John Edwards’ favorite joke--some long-winded blather ‘bout a farmer and his pig. Well, that reminded me of this, the perfect gift for the John Edwards fan of your acquaintance. (Hopefully there’s only one.) For a mere $7.95 you too can own the pig catapult.

“The first catapults were built around 200 B.C. to hurl flaming 6-pound javelins. Now you can use the same basic mechanism to launch tiny plastic pigs through the air with the Pig Catapult. Each 5-3/4" shooting device is made of plastic and comes with ample pig ammo for a full-fledged pig-flinging party.”

Unfortunately there isn’t a model that’ll hurl flamin’ fe-lyings around, but ya’ work with what ya’ can get. Another idea might be to keep it for yourself and when the Demo-cat political sty gets too down and dirty, you can have that “full-fledged pig-flinging” party with the candidate himself.

Somethin’ else that seems to re-materialize every gift-givin’ season is the trusty ole’ Flying Alarm Clock. The hype is always the same:

"Trouble getting up in the mornings? This will do the trick! When the alarm sounds the propeller is launched up into the air & flies around the room. To turn off the alarm you’ll have to get up, find it & return it to the base. $19.99, plus shipping and handling."

It'll do the trick unless ya' got a loaded Pillow Pal handy holster holder hangin' from your mattress. ($19.95 for a pair, plus shipping and handling.)

"When you want your sidearm by your side."

Catchy, eh? And soooo convenient for hittin' the snooze button on that pesky alarm. Sounds like a perfect gift for the ole’ LawDog.

Gotta' say instead of a chew toy I'm buckin' for this, the Sigmund Freud Action Figure.

"Each 5" tall figure captures Freud in a pensive pose, holding a distinctly phallic cigar."

Somewhat diminished, I guess, 'cause the price is down to $9.95. In a pinch, though, I'll be happy with a few of these.

"Watermelon flavored lollipops shaped like the head of Sigmund Freud. $27.95 per box of 24, plus shipping and handling."

Eat your heart out Siggy.

And finally, like all Christmases, there are some gifts that just defy explanation.

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posted by Harrison at 11:13 PM