I was taking my poodles for a walk in the early evening twilight when I saw something I had never seen before in the woods just off the road. Thinking quickly, I grabbed my cell phone and snapped this amazing picture:

Can you believe my horror at seeing that here, in the city? My heart was racing! After looking into the depth of my soul with its piercing gaze of doom, it disappeared into the woods, and I rushed home to document the incident for the world.

Although, come to look at it, that's not a very good image. My cell phone camera photo is grainy in the low light. Hold on, I'll use my l33t computer skills to digitally enhance the image:

See? How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that those, those... creatures could be lurking just outside my fence? This was supposed to be a nice neighborhood. Who let those things in here?

If years of watching horror movies have taught me nothing, it's that no one believes anything until you show them a good picture. Anyone can manipulate digital images these days. I'd better take my description of the beast to a professional sketch artist:

That looks like... ah! Deer! The deer are invading my neighborhood! Won't somebody do something! Somebody, please, think of the poodles!

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In celebration of the death of Osama bin Laden, Victoria decided to dig him a grave.
In celebration of Osama bin Laden's burial at sea, I gave Victoria a bath.

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Last night in bed, Victoria decided to get my attention by poking me in the left eye. It worked.

Boy, howdy, that was (and remains) painful! I'm sure there's a lesson in this somewhere, but I just can't see it right now. Tonight I'll be sleeping in safety glasses.

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Poodle Philosophy 101: Part 2

Good girls know that two heads are better than one when it comes to bird watching.

Bird chasing, on the other paw, is every poodle for herself.

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Poodle Philosophy 101: Part 1

Victoria always takes the opportunity to smell the roses. And squirrels.

July bites off only as much as she can chew. In this mouthful.

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Victoria was taken aback on a recent walk through the cemetery when she noticed this Confederate flag and marker for Dr. North. "Dr. North working for the South? Preposterous!" Ah, poodles. Will they never cease being amazed by the peculiar foibles of humanity?

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My dogs have had a fight. Now they won't stay in the same room with one another. Victoria seems properly apologetic, but July still growls at her whenever she comes within 5 feet. Most surprising about this is the discovery that July can hold a grudge for longer than 24 hours, though I suspect that she may be milking the situation for a little extra attention. If this is anything like raising children, I'll have no part in that, thank you.

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New for 2010: Easter poodles! The adorability of a bunny combined with the fun of decorating eggs!

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It was recently brought to my attention that England is considering legislation requiring all potential dog owners to pass a test, microchip their dog, and buy insurance in case their dog attacked someone. In theory, this plan would prevent the implementation of mobile collection and euthanasia vehicles such as have been recently employed in parts of Japan in order to restrain out-of-control wild and dangerous dog populations. After all, who could imagine a scenario where someone would abandon their animal after having paid a substantial sum to acquire it, even if that someone had lost their job in a shrinking economy after having overpaid for a vastly overvalued animal in the first place? Come on, it's not like a dog is a house.

How to solve the problem of wild, dangerous dogs is the sort of problem that would only face a government that had already banned gun ownership. Now that guns don't kill people, dogs kill people. With no threat of weapons to keep them in check, the loose dogs have formed nature's equivalent of motorcycle gangs, resorting to wandering from town to town fighting other gangs tooth-and-claw over territory, eating from trashcans, and raping all the uptight bitches. In America, we'd shoot our beloved Old Yeller if he looked at us cross-eyed, but the Brits are searching for a gentler way.

I for one applaud the idea. Owning a dog is like owning a car, and users must be qualified lest they plow through a crowd of innocent pedestrians. Better yet, using the tried-and-true, infallible "slippery slope" argument, it is clear that this action will inevitably lead to the obvious conclusion: qualifying people for parenthood. For far too long, society has allowed the bumper sticker slogan "anyone can be a father" to dictate public policy. I say that it's about time that government qualified what, exactly, that "special" quality is that makes someone a "daddy."

I suggest we follow the format of the British dog law: all prospective parents should pass a written test and buy "child insurance" in case the child one day gets lose from its restraints and bites someone. Once a child is born, we'll microchip them, mainly to prevent child insurance fraud. After all, if it's good enough for dogs, it's good enough for people.

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I've been dog sitting for my father's poodle puppy, Rambo, and it turns out that his puppy is better behaved than mine. Victoria, my full grown poodle, is determined to catch one of dad's cats or hens, which makes every trip into the yard a struggle. So far, the score is Victoria 2, Hens 0 -- that's hens caught, not hens killed (Victoria has a poodle's typically soft mouth) -- before I could separate the combatants. Meanwhile, Victoria has her own cheering section as Rambo patiently stands at the top of the deck and barks his gleeful approval. He may be better behaved, but that doesn't mean that he's helping.

[UPDATE]: This blog post requires that I include the following picture of Rambo to illustrate just how vicious he is. You may want to shield the eyes of your impressionable children before scrolling down.

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