You know when a dog gets super excited and starts zipping around all crazily? Those are the zoomies. It’s one of the best things dogs do (it’s hard to top unconditional love for their masters though). My dog gets the zoomies when we let him off leash at the park or beach and usually whenever me or my girlfriend comes home from a long day at work.
I always knew about the zoomies but I didn’t know there was a term for it until I discovered the subreddit dedicated to them on Reddit. You better believe I wasted a whole afternoon glued to my phone after that discovery. Life doesn’t get much better that watching hyper dogs running around excitedly. Happy dogs make happy people.
Dogs weren’t meant to stay cooped up all day. They need space to run and play and let out all their energy. They need the zoomies. Don’t deny them that. And make sure you record them so you can upload them to the internet and share them with the world. We all deserve to enjoy the zoomies.
My girlfriend has a dog. That means I have a dog. Dogs are awesome but they are a lot of responsibility. You have to feed them, give them water, take them for walks, and pick up their shit when they poop in public. And you have to do all that every single day. That dog has become a big part of my life. I realized this when I was texting my girlfriend and my phone auto filled He pooped along with the poop emoji. Every third or fourth text seems to be about if he did or didn’t poop. And sometimes there’s a follow up report if he pooped like He pooped twice! Or He pooped but it was runny. I don’t mind. I love the little bastard. But I talk about his poop way more than I should.
My girlfriend has a cute little dog with a big nasty habit. He likes to lick his butthole and then he tries to lick your face. I learned fairly quickly to rebuff his advances. I’ve often wondered why dogs are so eager to go down on themselves. They will lick and slobber all over their genitalia and poop chutes like the world is ending. Then they try desperately to make out with you. They know that it’s disgusting. They are just trying to prove to you that they are really in charge. They are in control. They have the power. That’s why they lick your face with a contaminated tongue. Nobody likes it when a dog licks its ass and then kisses your face. At least I hope that’s the case. I’m sure some people are into that sort of thing. If you fall into that category, please stay away from me and any dogs that I am affiliated with. And stay five hundred yards away from any pet store.
Dog sitting is when you take care of someone else’s dog for an extended period of time. You feed it, you give it water, you take it for walks, you pick up its shit when it shits. I’m writing about dog sitting because I’m currently dog sitting for my sister while she’s out of town. She has a Boston Terrier. He’s a few years old but still thinks he’s a puppy. He won’t stop playing. He likes to play fetch. He used to be pretty good at it but he’s getting older and has a cataract forming on one eye so his coordination isn’t quite there anymore. He still plays fetch like a canine with OCD. His favorite thing to fetch is an orange rubber ball and I can’t watch TV without having to throw it for him. The ball gets all slimy from his saliva and then it picks up loose hair so it doesn’t take long for me to be touching a moist hairball every thirty seconds. Every now and then the ball will get stuck under a cabinet or couch and he will start to whine and cry until I find it and get it out for him. If I try to eat or use my iPad he will start to whine and cry until I play with him again. This simple blog post took twice as long to write as it normally does because I have to stop what I’m doing every few words to appease the little brat. He’s lucky that he’s a cute motherfucker.
I was relaxing at home the other night when I heard my neighbor’s dog howling. It was a slow, mournful wail and then it would pause for a minute. A few blocks away another dog would bark back a response, and then the howling would continue before another dog would jump in on the conversation. It sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I’ve heard it before. Then it hit me. I was listening to the twilight bark in action. You might remember the twilight bark from Disney’s One Hundred and One Dalmatians. It’s when the evening quiet is shattered by dogs barking and howling at each other. It’s how Pongo and Perdita spread the word about their kidnapped puppies. The twilight bark is far more than a canine AMBER Alert. It’s a canine form of communication over long distances. Everyone knows the best way for dogs to converse is to sniff each other’s asses, but the twilight bark allows them to broadcast information on a larger scale. It’s like Twitter only with more growls and yips and fewer hashtags and you aren’t restricted to a hundred and forty characters.
I was outside and saw a guy walking his dog. It looked like an Australian shepherd. I could tell by the coat and the missing tail. It dawned on me that I’m not a big fan of dogs without tails. All the dogs that I grew up with had tails. Tails are a pretty important part of being a dog. They allow the dog to show emotion. They indicate to stupid humans what a dog is feeling. If the tail is between the legs, the dog is scared. If the tail is wagging, the dog is happy. If the tail is missing, the dog is an enigma. I’m not bashing dogs without tails; I’m saying that I can’t trust them. I’ve met a few dogs without tails and they were perfectly nice for the most part, but I couldn’t tell their motives. It was like it was being a cat, and being a cat defeats the whole purpose of being a dog.
There are few things in life more amusing than a dreaming dog. Your favorite pooch will be splayed out on the floor fast asleep except for the occasional yip and soft growl. You can’t help but smile as his legs start twitching and moving, and you know that he’s running around in dreamland, chasing squirrels and barking at skateboarders. You’ll never know what he’s actually dreaming about. He could be dreaming about eating delicious people food, finally catching his tail, or winning his war with the cat. You’re golden as long as he’s not dreaming about gnawing on your face. Let sleeping dogs lie, but have your camera ready just in case he sleep runs into the wall. Then you can be a YouTube sensation like this guy.
Naming a pet is an art form. Sometimes you can have a name already in your head, and you’re lucky that it fits when you finally pick up your new puppy. But the best way to name a pet is to have it for a few days before selecting a name that matches its personality. A few years ago my family got a new dog. He was an overly friendly and playful Black Lab/Bernese Mountain Dog mix. We spent four days watching him sleep, eat, and play. One of us would come up with a name and we would test it out, but nothing was clicking. We went through hundreds, maybe thousands of names that we all systematically rejected before I glanced over at our DVD collection, saw Star Wars, and suggested Chewbacca. My sisters screamed back, “CHEWY!” and the dog got its name. It probably helped that he was munching on a shoe at the time. He earned his name. He deserved his name. And he lived up to his name. Not all pets are so lucky. I have a friend who adopted a chubby Chihuahua named Meatball and she renamed him Cooper. That poor pup now has the most ill-fitting name of all time. If that’s not animal abuse, I don’t know what is.
Dog farts are the most acceptable type of fart. If a person farts around you, it’s easy to get offended or disgusted. But if a dog farts around you, you simply groan and push him away. You might not even push him away. A dog fart is distinctive too. You can tell right away that it’s a dog fart and not a people fart. Dog farts still stink, but they don’t smell as bad as a people fart. Maybe it’s because dogs don’t eat broccoli smothered with melted cheese. I’m not saying that I enjoy dog farts, but if something’s got to fart around me I would prefer it to be a dog.
Critically Rated at 9/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young
Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey is a classic family film about two dogs and a cat traversing the wilderness and finding their way home. It’s a sappy flick that requires a suspension of disbelief to be able to enjoy it. You have no heart if you don’t sympathize with the dramatic climax where all the pets come home. It’s emotional. It’s universal. And you need no further proof than by seeing a pug watching the end of Homeward Bound. This pug know all the emotional moments. He knows exactly what is going on. He’s able to sympathize with Shadow, Chance, and Sassy. Lots of people claim that their dog actually watches TV. This proves that dogs not only watch TV, but they are aware of what happens on TV. I don’t know if that is significant, but it’s got to mean something.
I was chilling in the park the other week and noticed an old lady walking her dog. The dog was in a stroller. It was a dog stroller. It was in a stroller for dogs. So she was walking the dog, but the dog wasn’t walking. It’s just sitting there in a stroller like a fucking baby. Dogs are not babies. They are domesticated wolves. They like to walk. They like to run. That’s what’s natural for them. A dog stroller is an abomination. I felt bad for the dog and I felt worse for the lady. She obviously has no family or friends, because anyone who truly cared about her would have talked some sense into her a long time ago. Walking your dog in a stroller is like running to the gym to walk on the treadmill. It makes no fucking sense and is counterproductive. I don’t like dog strollers and I hate the people that stroll them.
Duck Hunt was a launch title for the original Nintendo Entertainment System. It was one half of a joint cartridge that also included Super Mario Bros. Mario went on to fame and glory, but Duck Hunt didn’t leave the lasting impression that Mario did. And I blame the Duck Hunt Dog for that. The Duck Hunt Dog was the closest thing that Duck Hunt had to a mascot. He was the only character that appeared on screen (other than the ducks). He was a great concept on paper – a cute and cuddly animal with a sense of humor… he provokes the ducks, he retrieves the ducks, and he laughs at you when you miss the ducks. Seriously. He’s one of the few video game characters that breaks the fourth wall, and he only does it to make fun of you. He looks directly at you and he laughs at your failures. He mocks you. And you have to sit there and take it. You play video games to escape reality and feel better about yourself, but the Duck Hunt Dog only exists to make you feel bad. Duck Hunt would be a much better game if you could shoot that motherfucker. I’m not bitter. I just hate him so much.
It’s easy to make fun of people who talk to their dog or cat like it’s going to talk back. You see it all the time. Someone will take out a leash and ask Rex if he’s ready for his walk. They ask Spot if he’s hungry. You can call them crazy. You can call them lonely. But you’re being hypocritical because everyone talks to their pet like it’s going to respond. You ask them questions and then you ask them follow-up questions. You tell them your plans for the day. You might even ask them for advice. Talking to your pet like it’s going to respond is one of the insane things that everybody does. Maybe it’s normal to be crazy sometimes. That doesn’t change the fact that Fido will never talk back.
Dogs are a lot of fun. They make great companions. They love to play, they show affection, and they offer comfort and support when you need it the most. But you have to clean up after them and I’m personally not a big fan of picking up dog shit. If you walk your dog in a public place, you’re supposed to pick up their poop with a little plastic bag. The bag keeps your hands clean, but you can still feel the warmth and texture of the feces in your palm and that’s usually enough to make you gag. And your dog watches you scoop it up with a smirk on his face because he knows that you’re the bitch and he’s the master. It’s hard to feel good about yourself when you have a handful of dog shit.
My sister has a Boston Terrier that doesn’t know how to sit still. He’s constantly running around and getting into trouble. You have to play with him or he gets too restless. A restless Boston Terrier is a destructive Boston Terrier. So we throw a ball for him, he tracks it down, he brings it back, and he makes you throw it again. And again, and again, and again. Playing fetch with an obsessive dog just makes your arm sore and leaves your hands covered with canine slobber. You’ll wash your hands and he’ll make you throw the ball again. It’s a game that never ends and there’s never a winner. No matter how many times you throw it, he’ll always expect you to throw it one more time. And you’ll always cave in and throw it. The game never ends, it just goes on hiatus so that everyone can sleep for a few hours.
Growing up, my family had three dogs. Every once in a while we would come home and discover that one of them had left a present on the living room carpet. And by present, I mean shit. It was always easy to determine which one of the dogs pooped on the floor. It was always the one cowering behind the furniture with a guilty look on its face. There’s no mistaking a dog that knows it’s in trouble. His ears are lowered, his tail is tucked between his legs, and he won’t make eye contact. And you would be furious if it wasn’t so adorable. That dopey look of shamed embarrassment will melt your heart every time. Humans might pretend that they are in charge, but dogs have us well trained.
Replacement dogs are dogs that you get to fill a void. Your parents get replacement dogs when all the kids have moved out and/or when the family pets have passed away. I’ve been out of my parent’s house for a few years now, and it seems like I’m greeted by a new dog every time I come home for Christmas. Replacement dogs are weird. They are family dogs that don’t know that you’re a part of the family. They can sense enough to know that you’re not an intruder, but they have no idea why you’re sitting on their spot on the couch. They are a reminder that life has a way of slogging on. Fido isn’t going to be around forever, but there’s always a Rex waiting in the wings. And when Rex bites the dust, Spot is ready for his chance to shine. Replacement dogs are the real circle of life.