Dad is Sad...

Our pop is sad because his grandpa was killed in a car accident the other day. He's on his way this morning to Wichita for the funeral which is tomorrow. Us pooches are in charge of protecting mom and the fort while he's gone.

We are always prepared to protect our home. Mom calls it "Tactical Alert" but I call it good sense. My gas is a powerful weapon and I pitty the foo who get's within a few hundred yards of my gas. If someone however does survive we do have back-up...


Annie, seen here looking oh so innocent, has the breath of death. As you can tell she is not afraid of anything. This picture was posted on the We Are Not Afraid website. Obviously she's not worried about looking fear straight in the eye. If you attack her or anyone in her pack you will get the stink of your life. You think my gas is bad, try Annie's breath. We like to call her BBA - Bad Breath Annie




Should you manage to get past my gas and Annie's breath then you have to cross Snickers and his razor sharp teeth. Don't let these eyes fool you. Piss this one off and you will walk away with a chunk of flesh missing from your leg. Of course we have never witnessed this, but we have heard tales, and that's good enough for us.





Now, if you get passed my gas, Annies breath, and Snicker's menacing teeth then you force us to use our most powerful weapon, one of which even nations shudder at the thought of using. Back us into a corner and you leave us no choice but to use what we call.......

The "Turbo Kitty"

And God help you if we lob him at you.

Dog Fancy Magazine

We Brittany's are on the cover of this month's Dog Fancy magazine - barely. If you get a 10x magnifying glass and look in the bottom right-hand corner you will see a fine example of our breed. Why we did not take the full cover? My thinking is has something to do with the fact that smaller dogs are more popular. That is fine with me. As long as I have my tennis ball to chew on, my chin scratched and the occasional shredding of asiago cheese over my food I am very happy.

Dog Blog

I have to give kudo's to Dog Blog. This guy definitly knows what we canine's are thinking.

Thank you Jon for your wonderful pictures and your great captions.

From the Ayatollah's Site

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Picture Time

I thought I would share pictures of my brother, sister and myself. Hope you enjoy...

Here is a picture of me at the dog park.















I was meeting a Rhodesian Ridgeback, she was so pretty!





Here is my stubby butt; you love my stubby butt, don't you.












This is my sister Annabelle. Mom said that they got her from a rescue. Annie had a very bad past before she came to the rescue; we pooches will not speak of such pain. Since she came to live with mom and dad in March of 2000 she has become a very happy little girl. Mom calls her "Baby Annie".







This is my brother Snickers, mom and dad's first pooch. He's a terrier mix and they got him from the pound. He's getting to be a little old man but he's still got a lot of spunk.

His favorite past time: eating poo.

Lethal Weapon, Part Pooch

My parents think I am a lethal weapon; isn’t that neat-o? Apparently the gas that comes out of my butt is sulfuric and can take out something like a gagillion people. Well, maybe not that many but my gas bring tears to mom’s eyes and my dad always starts manically fanning the air and coughing. My parents call them “SBD’s” which stand for Silent but Deadly’s, sound’s like a chemical weapon, doesn’t it?

Personally I think it smells kind of good but a dogs sense of smell is much more sophisticated than a human’s.

I will be offering this service to Ayatollah Mugsy’s Team Pugforce but let us all hope that this deadly weapon will never be needed.

So I'm Not Really From Another Planet

Okay, you got me. I'm a Brittany and I was born here on earth, in a kennel here in Southern California called Sandbar. My fancy name is Sandbar's Rowland Major Drummer but you can call me Boomer.

For the first three years of my life I lived with a lovely family in La Canada and I was in hunting school but I flunked out. I really liked chasing after the birds, even after the hunter would shoot his gun which apparently isn't a good thing. I almost got shot twice so my owner thought I would make a better show / house dog than a hunting dog.

I didn't make it as a show dog because I'm too tall for a Brittany, though I am damn cute; guess that doesn't count. As a house dog I didn't do well either because my owners little kids tried to hug me and I hate being hugged a certain way, it seems threatening, so I growled at them. My owner didn't like that so he found a new home for me and that's where I am now.

I have lived with my new folks for almost a year now. At first I didn't know what to think and I was pretty neurotic about it all but I have settled down nicely. Mom quickly discovered that I don't like to be hugged so she doesn't hug me, but I love being scratched under my chin. Every night I crash on the couch next to mom and dad and sleep like an angel.

I'm obsessed with my tennis ball and have to have it with me wherever I go; except when I went to obedience school. My poochie brother and sister don't like to play ball but that's okay, I make due by myself or with my parents. We go for walks and go to the dog park which makes me very happy. Sometimes mom makes homemade poochie treats which makes us pooches all drooley!

So life in Whittier is pretty calm but I am very content, what more could a pooch want?

My Mission

The Dog Star is a far, far away place; inhabited by dogs with a vision. A vision of peace an harmony that is born into each and every pooch. We have never known strife, conflict, or even an occasional tiff. We live to help each other, to care for the pack and make sure that all is provided for. We live for tennis balls, raw-hide and kongs. This is instinct folks, not something we had to learn.

My commander sent me here to earth to teach earthling's how to live this way. The strife amongst human's is well known throughout our galaxy and frankly we are all getting very tired of their pissing and moaning. But I digress...

My commander sent me to earth to live amonst the humans, to train them in the ways of the dog. I live with a wonderful family in Southern California which includes my host mom and dad, my brother dog Snickers and sister dog Annabelle. I will not speak of the cat.

The parents do not need any work thank goodness but my siblings do. They would prefer to eat their poop than play ball or chase birds. They have absolutely no clue what they are missing. Or maybe I have no clue what I am missing??? Hmmmm.....