Ok, just in case you can’t tell… this is not a picture of me.  I had to clear that up first.  I found this picture out on the Internet and I just want to say this is wrong.  The long and short of the above photo and situation is this… Puppies are not hot dogs or sandwiches.  That being said, wow this is funny! 

This poor kid is going to have to try to live this down the rest of his life.  When he brings home some nice young lady his master is going to bust out these baby photos and embarrass the living WOOF out of him.  I can’t help but snicker because I know if this poor puppy’s master was willing to go through this much trouble to waste a hoagie bun on getting this photo, then he or she probably also named the dog something really uncreative and lame like Oscar or Footlong or something.  I’m glad I was named after a cool sounding bean.  Man, I am one lucky puppy.  You often take for granted how good you have it till you see what other people put their puppies through. 

I highlighted the word snicker in the paragraph above because it reminded me of a good story that my master told me.  His friend Erin told him about this.  Erin has a friend that use to live in Lindenwald. 

For those of you not from around here, this is a neighborhood with a lot of big dogs… like Aggie, a bloodhound that I recently had the chance to go visit in this very same neighborhood. 

But back to the story… Erin’s friend in Lindenwald had a dog named Snickers and also had some neighbors that were a little darker skin tone than his own pasty white master.  (Note: Hey, my dad was black and my mom was red, I can deal with diversity!) 

One day Snickers got loose in the neighborhood, probably chasing one of those fiesty bags of fur (cats) or something, and Erin’s friend went out on the front porch and proceeded to yell “Snickers… here Snickers!!!” over and over again along with some whistling, etc.  Apparently the word Snickers (when yelled with a Lindenwald draw) sounds a lot like a racially charged derogatory term.  Needless to say, Snickers moved soon after that incident to the west side of Hamilton, Ohio.

Ok, that was the story… if you didn’t get it, yell “Snickers” outloud a few times or say it really fast several times.  So, back to the photo posted above…

Posting the above photo of that poor puppy inspired me to go ahead and update my website with some new photos.  I have taken the opportunity to create a new page and add captions to my photos.  There will be more photos uploaded soon, once I get my lazy master off his rear to upload them to the Internet from his little plastic box that captures by beautiful likeness.  He calls it a “camera”… I think it’s just another toy that I should get to chew on since it’s always snapping photos of me.  It’s obviously something for me since he always gets it out whenever we go somewhere.

http://www.garbanzothedog.com/photos

Feel free to leave me ideas of where I should get more pictures taken or what types of “action scenes” you would like to see!  Rub my belly, leave me some comments!

I have to make a confession.  I’ve been led astray.  Sheepishly I followed other canines in my neighborhood who are much older than I, and since they are older, I blindly followed them and believed every word they said.  I would try to place blame somewhere else or say something like well, I’m just human, everyone makes mistakes! but I’m not human.  The neighborhood dogs told me that cats are evil.  They told me cats are out to bring us dogs down.  This could not be further from the truth.  Cats are perfectly ok, and we need them.

It turns out that cats are just lovable little fur balls like us dogs.  We have our differences of course: dog is man’s best friend, cats are lazy bags of fur.  But we have a lot in common, like how we both enjoy meat and our mutual love of trees… cats to climb in and us dogs to chew on.

What prompted this big change of heart in me you ask?!  Well, I just read a nice article about a fellow long-haired Dachshund who, being a lovable and adorable creature like myself, has taken it upon her own accord to raise and nurture a poor, defenseless kitty.

This article on Yahoo! was first published in the Victoria, Texas newspaper:  Lillie, a three year old Dachshund, has been nursing Tahoe, the kitten, since Lillie’s owner found Tahoe hiding in… of all places… her Chevy Tahoe.

 I think it’s important to put aside our differences and realize that we’re all in this crazy game of Life together, and we need each other to help survive and prosper.  I’m ready to put aside my differences with the cats and work toward peace and harmony.  We need to team together against the Bob Barkers of the world to increase our quality of life.

 Who’s with me?!  Rub my belly… leave me some comments!

My July 4th blog is updated following an email from this Bryan fellow that doesn’t like puppies.  Bryan doesn’t seem to like that my master allows me to have a website.  He says my master needs to get a life.  I got news for the ‘ol puppy hater… he’s the one leaving a dog comments on a website… who needs the life, Bry… touche! 

 Just like I can’t do the tilde over the “n” in pinata, my lack of opposable thumbs won’t let me spell touche correctly.  But you knew where I was going with that…  just like you humans don’t like me to comment on how fat you are, or how bald you are… I too appreciate those individuals that can think of POSITIVE things to say. 

 Rub my belly… leave me some comments

I found this little public service announcement on the Internet.  I think this is just some propoganda that was put out there by those Bible-thumping Menonites.  But I can’t help but sit here chewing on my ducky and hoping that it’s true.  Seeing those killer creatures running after that tabbie is a precious sight.   Let’s all do our part to make sure we help control the cat population.  Oh how I can’t stand these creatures.  They would be very tolerable, in fact I would even love having them around, without those razor blade nails on the end of their paws. 

Today is trash day.  You know what that means… buffet during my evening walk!  It’s shaping up to be a good week. 

 Oh, and by the way, I know I mis-spelled pinata.  But I don’t have thumbs so I can’t figure out how to get the tilde above the “n”.  Sorry, I’m just a dog. 

 Rub my belly, leave me some comments.

Everyone has a vice, and I think that’s a good thing as long as your vice isn’t something that is harming other puppies or people.  Having a vice is like having a hobby, everyone should have one and hopefully it’s something you can share with others who share the same interest.

I like cigarette butts and chewing gum.  I guess my idea of nirvana would be finding a piece of Nicorette gum on the ground somewhere.  Nothing beats a good cigarette butt, especially the menthol kind, after a long walk.  I prefer the fruity flavored gum over the minty kinds, but ultimately you have to take what the good Lord gives ya.

I just don’t understand how the Puritans, Quakers, Amish, Penticostals, and those Old English Sheep Dogs can go through life so dry and boring.  I mean, don’t they find that they are just basically sitting around waiting for things to happen to them?!  I guess I just don’t understand their way of life.  Or maybe it’s just that I’m young and single, I still get to sow my wild oats before some bitch comes along and makes me settle down.  Maybe things will change once I have some puppies of my own, but in the meantime I’m going to keep chewing my cigarette butts and eating gum off of the sidewalk. 

What kinds of vices do you guys have?  Rub my belly, leave me some comments…

This past weekend I had several visitors, which I always love visitors.  Needless to say this meant that I was picked up a lot (and even dropped a couple times) and I got to give lots of kisses (or licks as you humans call them).  People wondered why I was so happy and so excited.  Well, it’s the little things in life that do it for me.  Please… no jokes about my size.  If you make fun of my size I will be forced to throw some cheesy saying back in your face like It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog or big things come in small packages. 

So, I was laying around the house today and I compiled a little list of things that make me happy:

• pine cones
• lightning bugs
• dandielions
• walks through the neighborhood on trash day
• ants
• envelopes and junk mail
• socks
• cigarette butts
• gum on the sidewalk (”ABC gum I think you call it)

 I’m sure there’s more… but these things really make my tail wag.  I think we can all be happier if we just learn to enjoy the simple things in life.  Rub my belly, leave me some comments.

Well, it’s been a busy weekend.  My master’s family was in town to see me on Saturday and then today I got to go visit Gordon and Jitterbug, two couch ornaments (or “cats” as you humans call them) that live in downtown Cincinnati.  They have a cool master, Ariane, who gives me lots of toys, treats, and even incorporates me into her workout routine.

But those evil bags of tuna-eating, leg-rubbing felons somehow managed to give me worms while I was there.  I don’t know how… but I think it was in the food they gave me.  These cats were acting nice (once I put them in their place).  They showed me where they keep the sandbox, or “zen garden” as Gordon referred to it.  I got to eat all of the wonderful buried treats that I could possibly find in this little box and I loved every minute of it.  Now my tummy hurts and I know those cats had something to do with it.

I heard Ariane telling my master I have worms.  At first I was excited by this.  We never get to go fishing when we visit Winton Woods.  I thought now that I have the worms perhaps my master would take me.  Then my tummy started hurting again and suddenly I wasn’t so excited by this news.  I got some tasty concoction when we got home, and my master thinks a few more drinks of this stuff and I will be feeling better.

In the meantime, you can send get well wishes via email to my master.  Or in lieu of sending cards or flowers you may send your check made payable to Garbanzo, c/o Master Thomas Goodwin, 1440 S. Breiel Blvd, Middletown, Ohio 45044.  I fully trust him to use the money to buy me lots of treats once I am feeling better.  Or perhaps that new Miami University collar that I’ve had my eye on when we go to PetsMart.

Hope you all had a nice weekend… except for your cats (Bryan… Ariane… I’m talking to you).  Leave me some luvin… post a comment.

My master often gets frustrated with me on our long walks around the lake at Winton Woods.   I don’t get out of the house much, since someone feels the need to leave from 8 to 5 every day during the week.  And when I do get to go outside, I like to go exploring.  Life is too short to walk around with your nose in the air like your some kind of Cockapoo or Shitzadoodle.  Sorry, it was hard to find an article/picture of a shitzadoodle… if you click on the name you have to scroll down the page to the “Happy Ending” on August 12th, 2004… yeah, Happy Ending.  I know, I know… a Happy Ending for a Shitzadoodle.  The thought of it bothered me too. 

 Anyway, considering I am only 6 inches off of the ground and have a heightened sense of smell I think it’s only fair that my master cuts me a little slack and let’s me investigate things that I come across during our walk.  That, and I like to eat ants so he could allow me that one vice.  I know I’m slow… it takes us nearly an hour and a half to walk around the lake at Winton Woods.  But I have short legs and I need to stop and smell the turf every hundred feet or so.  What do you people think?  Is it fair to keep me trapped in the kitchen all day and then expect me to do a lap around the woods in a half an hour?! 

Let me know what you think I can do to keep the master from breaking my neck by pulling on my leash when we’re out walking!!!

Manipulative, self-centered felines.  Rather than naming them felines they should be called felons.  It’s a crime how they treat their masters.  I found this little clip out on the Internet and felt it was important to share it with the rest of you.  I spend all day acting as guard dog.  I watch the house while my master is at work, even lay awake at night listening for strange noises and intruders.  It’s a thank-less job but I know that what I do is important and meaningful in this world.  Ok, so it’s not totally thank-less.  I do get the occasional treat, belly rub, and pretty much all the chew toys I can handle.  Those things help get me through the day, ya know… but these cats, someone needs to wake up and realize they are a drain on our society.  Let’s create a list of chores and put them to work!  Just don’t let them be in charge of cleaning the aquarium.

On a side note:  I received some negative feedback from this Bryan character about my website.  His comments were directed more toward my master and I didn’t appreciate his tone.  He obviously can’t read very well.  This is not my master’s website.  Bryan should have visited my master’s website if he had comments for him. 

I did a little more digging into who this goofy Bryan character is.  It came as no surprise to me when I learned that Bryan has a cat.  That’s right.  Bryan is harboring one of these felons and probably conspiring against puppies just like ‘ol Bob Barker.  We need to put Bryan in his place.  We should all be vigilant against such oppressive remarks, let’s unite and show him the error of his ways by emailing him and expressing our concern for his ownership of a cat.  He will probably try to make up some kind of excuse like it was a gift or something, but we know those creatures are manipulative and probably over-powered his more limited brain capacity.  Don’t worry Bryan, we will try to bring you back to reality!  Let us help you.

Update 7/11/07:  Bryan emailed my master and complained about his email address being posted to this website… well, Bryan, I guess we learned a valuable lesson that if you’re going to leave a dog negative comments… that’s right, a poor defense-less puppy… then you might want to do it anonymously and not leave your email address!!!  I bet you’re one of those sickos that goes around at Christmas time telling little human children that Santa doesn’t exist.  Why doesn’t this surprise me coming from a cat lover… anyway, if you still want to send Bryan email, you can do so by sending it through the care of my master.  I have replaced Bryan’s email address with my master’s email address in the links above.  ~Garb.

I have never met this Bob Barker fellow, but you would think with a last name like Barker he would be more friendly toward man’s best friend.  Apparently our friendship wasn’t enough for ‘ol Bob.  He has been trying to get millions of people to cut off our puppy parts for numerous years now.  Why, Bob?!  Why!?! 

One can only imagine what kind of tragic event he must’ve went through as a child to turn him against harmless little puppies.  Or perhaps Bob never had a puppy.  If Bob had his way with my mom, she would’ve never had me and my siblings.  In fact, he considers all my sisters and me nothing but litter… garbage, he thinks we’re garbage… waste strewn along the highway. 

I know he’s retired now but I can’t help but think he might be working behind the scenes and trying to come after more of my helpless, defenseless friends.  This is to put you on notice, Bob.  You’re officially in my Doghouse.  And until you call off the senseless destruction of my puppy parts, I will not so much as wag my tail at you nor your beauties.

Let it go Bob.  It’s time to let the healing begin.  The cats… now that’s where we could use some additional control.  Perhaps you could push for them to all be de-clawed?  Think about it Bob.  What hurts more, a basket full of puppies?  Or an evil cat scratching away at your soft, butter-like skin.  De-claw the cats Bob.  De-claw the cats.

Rub my belly… leave me some comments!