Peanut Butter Addiction


My name is Dusty and I am a peanut butter addict.  I have to admit that I will do anything to get peanut butter, especially if it’s warm, gooey, melted peanut butter like Christine has on her English muffins. Mmmmm! Just thinking about it is making me all drooly.  Unfortunately, this has led to many embarrassing photos of me licking my chops or begging.  I understand there may also be a shameful video floating around out there on the internet as well.

Sleeping under the table, between chair legs, in hopes of dropped peanut butter yumminess.

I even resort to sleeping under the kitchen table in hopes that some of the sticky, salty, golden goodness will drop down close enough for me to snatch it up.  I’ve been thinking that I’m probably not the only dog who faces this dilemma of giving up pride for peanut butter.  But I just can’t live without it!


The Fetch Thing


I am a Dandie Dinmont Terrier.

Well I guess it’s time for me to weigh in on the fetch thing.  First of all, I do not agree with Sam the Fat Cat.  Fetch is a wonderful game.  Cooper and Torre, I’m glad you and your humans enjoy it so much.  But it’s simply not my game.  You have to understand something.  I am a terrier.  Specifially, I am a Dandie Dinmont Terrier. No, not a ‘whaaaat?’…a Dandie Dinmont Terrier.  Yes it’s a real breed, a very old breed in fact.  Go ahead Google it.  I dare you.  See, I told you!  Now you have a good reason to watch the next Westminister Dog Show.

As you can see from my regal bearing in the photo above, my body isn’t designed for fetch.  Dandies are hunters.  We are search and destroy machines.  Notice how my front legs are lower that my back legs.  Also notice my strong front shoulders.  Please ignore the crook in my tail.  I beat up on my little brother a lot in those first 8 weeks but he exacted his revenge before I went to live with Christine. Don’t let my size fool you, I’m an alpha female and I know how to throw my 25 pounds around pretty well.  I’m small but I’m powerful.  I’d never make it over a hurdle like Torre does in flyball, but my compact size is perfect for a Dandie’s original job of hunting badgers in the Scottish highlands.

Of course I’ve never seen a badger but I do love stuffed squeaky toys.  I have a toy box full of them. Or rather, what’s left of them.  I pride myself on my ability to destuff and desqueak a toy in five minutes or less.  We Dandies have super strong jaws and I know how to use them.  I keep the skins.  My favorite game is called Dump the Toy Box.  I flip the lid off with my nose and toss my toys in the air one by one.  When I find the one I want, I grab and run for a sneaky spot to shred it a little more.  For some reason my toys disappear when there’s nothing left but strings.  I’ve never figured that out.

I also love to play Nice Doggy.  I stand on my toy and shred it. Then the humans try to psych me out and grab it away.  They usually try petting me and I growl and snarl like I’m going to tear them apart but of course, I would never do such a thing.  They laugh saying, “Nice Doggy…Good Doggy…MY TOY!!” and try to grab it.  Once in awhile I have to let them get it so they don’t get bored.  But I don’t let them keep it for more than a minute.  I just show them a whole lot of teeth.  Let’s just say it’s a smile, shall we?

Dogs & Cats: Peace Treaty Talks Continue


Guest Blogger, Sam the Fat Cat



Shout to my main dogs Cooper and Dusty for the Guest Blogger opportunity. Shout out to my mom Cindy Cavoto of Fire Brand Social Media for letting me have canine contacts even though I could do without them. Shout out to me for having the ability to type and therefore have no need to have someone take dictation like a couple of canines that I know.

I hereby declare the Peace Treaty Talks of Dogs and Cats continuing. While it may appear on the surface that cats and dogs are alike since we are both furry, that’s where the similarities stop…or at least come to a grinding halt.

8 Reasons Cats are Better than Dogs:

  1. We are smarter and more conniving than any dog on any day will ever be.
  2. We don’t cry and whine or give “suitcase face” when the travel bags are taken out from storage.
  3. In fact we’re happy the humans are leaving and we hope the canines go with them.
  4. We don’t eat things we’re not supposed to or whine when our humans forget to kiss us goodbye.
  5. We clean ourselves. Enough said.
  6. Fetch is overrated.
  7. No exercise required or at least none that requires a leash or any sort of park.
  8. Chicken. It’s what’s for dinner.

All of these points are arguable and I understand that but when bark comes to meow, the meows will always win.

Every Dog Needs A Good Lawyer


The Accused: Mug shots make everydog look guilty.

Despite all my writing prowess, all the wisdom of my nine years and all the deep thoughts, I am still a young pup at heart.  So I will admit there are times when I do things that may not be officially ‘permitted’ by the human establishment.  At times like that, it’s a good idea to have a lawyer, preferably a human one, who will argue your case and most likely earn a more lenient sentence.  Lucky for me, I have Eugene.

I never realized the benefit of retaining

If you didn’t witness it, you must acquit!

counsel until this one day when Christine came home from the human vet and there just happened to be an empty bag of chips on my bed.  There were also a bunch of papers strewn across the floor.  I know things looked bad but when she posted the incident on Facebook, one of her human friends commented that perhaps some other very bad dog had come into the house, eaten the chips, then left the evidence on my bed as a frame up.  He said since no one actually saw me eat the chips, there was no proof.  Smart guy!

As it turns out, I didn’t have to look far.  Eugene has a brilliant legal mind even though the humans consider him young.  On Sunday, Christine left me home for about two hours while she went to church.  I was bored so I decided to play with my toys.

Well within the realm of fair play and obviously a fair trade.

She left her shoes, with socks in them,  right in front of my toy box.  I traded her my de-stuffed pink octopus for her sock.  It seemed like a fair trade to me.  But when she came home and saw that her sock had two holes in the heel, she was somewhat peeved.

Thank goodness Eugene came home on Monday.  He made an excellent case that I had indeed made a fair trade and that since the shoes with socks were left in front of my toy box, it could only be assumed that the socks fell within the realm of fair play.

Nothing celebrates a ‘Not Guilty’ verdict like a belly rub! I LOVE THIS GUY!


When Humans Travel

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I heard Christine say the Cooper’s Mom is going to come East to visit his Grandpa.  I also heard about his big time out for eating Mom’s snacks.  So I just have to say, “Cooper.  Dude.  I feel your pain, Dog.”

Christine and the boys left me behind a couple of months ago.  I tried everything I could to get them to stay.  I looked extra cute.  I was on my bestest behavior. I even tried to get them to pack me in the suitcase.

Hey, no BOL, it worked for that little stuffed dog of Eugene’s.  But nothing I did worked.  They left me. Not only that, but when they came back, they smelled like ANOTHER DOG.  I know it was only my cousin Dante, but still…they left me and played with some other dog!  Can you believe it?!Now I do have to give a bark out to Grandma because she made me a cheeseburger while they were gone.  And she kept my water dish full the whole time.  There may have been some bacon involved too.  So Cooper, don’t sweat it.  I know your Dad is going to take extra special care of you while your Mom is here.  Maybe he’ll even sneak you one of Mom’s chapsticks so you don’t miss her so much.

Human Kisses

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Today was a long, sad day for me.  Eugene was in a rush this morning and he said goodbye as he ran out the door but he didn’t give me a hug and kiss like he usually does.  It threw my whole day out of whack.  The sunshine didn’t last long so there was no sunny spot to lay it.  My bed wouldn’t fluff right.  My water tasted old, even though it wasn’t.  Even barking at the cat in the yard wasn’t any fun. That school thing takes FOREVER and even longer than that when you’re missing your human.

He did say he was really sorry and even spent some extra snuggle time with me when he got home.  Andrew gave me a paper towel roll to chew on and that always cheers me up.  Andrew also said that this school thing is almost over and then they’ll be home all summer.  I can’t wait!  All those extra snacks and dropped chips…uh…I mean all that extra snuggle time.  Yeah snuggle time, that’s what I meant.

Inequality of Canine Cuisine



Please Ma’am, may I have some more?

Are we truly so much lower than our humans? If the vet pricks us with his pointy needle, do we not bleed a drop or two? If you step on our paws, do we not yipe?   If you hold steak over our heads, do we not beg?  I ask you, my fellow canines, are we so undeserving of a cheeseburger that we have to settle for mere scraps?  Or worse, be stuck with measly old kibble?

It seems to me to be highly unfair that we dogs, who are protectors, exercisers and snugglers of our humans are kept separate from human foods.  And when left to our own devices to procure our fair share of deliciousness, we are scolded, SCOLDED, and labeled as BAD DOGS.  It makes me sad to see such posts as Cooper’s 20 Things I Have Eaten or this shameful photo of myself.

So what if we don’t have opposable thumbs to daintily pick up french fries!  So what if we can’t put leftover meatloaf on a plate or work the microwave!  It is high time we dogs are given our place at the table, to eat from the good china and partake of the not the bones of the chicken but of the bird itself!

Who’s with me?  Can I get a Bow Wow?!

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