Mutts Like Me

Pick Me. I'm a mutt and proud of it

Aarroo, Pupsters! So now we get to the real important issues in this election. When President-Elect Obama said Tuesday night in his Victory Speech, that his family would get that new puppy to go to Washington, my ears perked up. My Mom and Pop have been listening to all these screaming hoomans on the TV for several months now, yammering about all kinds of, well, boring stuff.

Now this Obama guy says today that the White House Dog Issue is an important decision to make. And today when he had his first news conference, whatever that is, he made me sit up and really listen. He said ‘shelter dog’ and then the magic phrase that really got me howling agreement. “Of course we really want to get a shelter dog, they are all mutts like me.” Aarroo!

I‘m a Catahoula, and we are the ultimate American Mutts, with our ancestors being a splendid mixture of the American Red Wolf, with the best and strongest of cousins from the Old World. We all found ourselves in this amazing place, this America, where we all worked and lived and barked out in our own voices across the centuries, becoming what we are today: handsome American Mutts.

The Obamas' Dog: The Pressing Post-Election Question

So you go, Sir! Pick one of us shelter dogs to play with, and help protect your family, to snurl at the occasional overbearing news persons, to give you photo ops that remind our country that you and your family are just like my family. There’s nothing like a dog to keep this deal running straight, and help keep our priorities in line. OK? Now let’s eat… 😉 WW

Note: As this time there are 100’s puppies in the Petfinder List for Washington, DC, and they all look like winners, and some might be hypo-allergenic.

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CatahoulaThanks

Last month was the 5th anniversary of my discovery by my hoomans on the Petfinder website, in the Hooman Society of Southern Arizona (HSSA) shelter, in Tucson, Arizona. Thank you, Mom, for seeing my skinny self on the web, and going ‘eek’. She says it was a surprise to see such a bootiful face looking back at her. And to Dad, for staying up with me those first nights when I was stoned out of my mind (after the ‘fix’ thing) and was wearing that stoopid neck cone thingy, and had to be walked day and night to relieve myself and my fears.

Thanks to the folks at HSSA, for running such a wonderful place like the shelter, and most of all, for not giving up on me when I was so sad I couldn’t eat. A special tail wag for my ‘trainer’ at HSSA, who kept on working with me to pull me back to the world, to take me out to PetSmart, to meet people who actually loved dogs. I was a mess after my beginning in life, and thanks to HSSA for changing the direction of my life.