"Just Ask Brent"

Dear Just Brent,

I have a minor dilemma of the utmost importance. First let me clear up a few things so that there is no confusion. I adore my human Margaret/AKA Maggie. She is not only the best human a dog could ask for but she is also my best friend, as she likes to talk to me about everything. However, there lies my problem Mr. Brent, she insists on talking to me as if I am a small child. Since I am a Boston terrier and small in physical stature, this does not reflect my mental capacity. What my Maggie girl doesn't know is that as soon as she falls asleep at night, I squirm my way out of her grip and head straight to the Internet in order to quench my intellectual thirst with as many news sites as my paws can click (and of course a little entertainment, which is where your blog comes in). However, my sweet Maggie continues to insist on dressing me up like a little sailor or a pumpkin or with the change of the season, an elf! I have more than my dashing good looks and the ability to pull off just about any costume she can come up with, it’s just that I would much rather be picking out a financial port folio with her instead of buying the latest Paris Hilton inspired "Canine Cuties" outfit. I don't look "hot", I am hot, as in over heated.
Help! I'm melting in Frustration,
Buttercup, Boston Terrier age 8

Dear Mr. Cup,
With a name like Buttercup I feel your frustration! But wowziers, I've always dreamt of playing dress up at Halloween! It's just The Old Lady is too cheap. I 've imagined myself a pirate (kinda like a Boxer Johnny Depp!) and I would have a really big sword and boots and a long purple sash and I would say things like "Aye-Aye Matie!" I would be an outstanding pirate! My ship would be called "The Sea Biscuit" and I would have a boxer wench at every port, who I would sing to "Boxer wench, you’re a fine girl what a good wife you would be, but my love, my life and my lady is the sea”, and they would all idolize me and think me……amazing! But I digress as this is not about me.....it's about you Buttercup and your frustrations not mine!
I wasn't sure how to take aim at your situation so I conversed with my next door neighbor Benny the Beagle. He was a bumble bee for Halloween two years ago (I thought he looked rather dashing as a fuzzy anthropod!) Benny said that while as a Thespian he enjoyed the challenge of portraying the Bombus Sterestris, he found the stinger to be a bit of a nuisance when trying to sit down. He said he feels that dressing up at Halloween is the patriotic thing to do, so he does not have a problem with it once a year. But he said "Do it more than that?"and I quote, "Hell No!"
I then queried Bridget the Poodle who lives across the street. Bridget loves to play dress up with her human girl Sophie, who is six years old in human years. Every year at Halloween Bridget comes trick-or-treating with Sophie. This year they dressed up in look alike fairy costumes. When I answered the door, with The Old Lady, I tried to pretend I didn't recognize them. But I could tell it was Bridget because her poofy poodle tail was sticking out from underneath her pink wings and she started wagging it when she saw me. Today, when I asked Bridget about wearing costumes she told me that dress up is lots of fun, especially when she and Sophie play princess or bride dog. Bridget also said that while she does get "hot" at times while in costume, she loves the way that her Sophie looks at her when they play. She said "hot" or not and I quote, "It's well worth it!"

So my dear Mr. Cup this is my advice to you:
1. As we interact with our humans we all have to decide what is "Well worth it" and what is a "Hell No!" situation. It's the give and take of our canine/human relationship that makes our daily life what it is. As a mature pooch I encourage you to pick your battles with Maggie. You need to choose what is more important to you, making Miss Maggie happy with dress up or your free time on the Internet. I myself have had to do this at times like when I have chosen to refrain from partaking of "treat" in exchange for, a hopefully blind eye from The Old Lady when I'm taking, a snooze on the couch. While dressing up as a sailor might be uncomfortable at times you might think of it as an opportunity to not only please your Maggie but also catch the eye of a cute Beagle or Schnauzer girl, as I hear they have a thing for sailors!
2. When your Maggie is reading the morning newspaper take the opportunity to guide her to a financial gain either through the chew & tear/clipping of dog food coupons or a paw print on a wise buy in the business section of the paper. She will think you a very clever pup and possibly let you go naked for the day! You know Mr. Cup, we dogs often have to take the lead with our humans in order for them to have a more successful and fulfilling life. Either through a long walk, a fast paced game of fetch or if all else fails a good chew on their favorite shoe it is up to us to make them stop and take a personal inventory of what it is they are doing and where in life they are going. Don't forget that once a human has left their whelping box and moved out on their own they are bound to have moments of frustration or loneliness. It is at these moments that it is our God given duty to intervene. As canines we all know that a lick on the hand or a wag of the tail is our way of saying, "It's going to be okay kid, you can do it"!
Do remember Mr. Cup, whether you be a sailor, a pirate or a bumble bee, you are above all else a Dog! We are a great species who get to share our lives with those crazy kids called "Humans". And as we know, for most of them whether they be a Maggie, a Jeff, a Sandy, a Rachel, a Doug, or even a Susan, it is we who ROCK their world!
So Mr. Cup, keep on Rocking! You can do it!
Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Just Ask Brent

Dear Just Brent,

You don’t know me but I’m also a Boxer boy, only my human mom does not let me on the computer much. She’s afraid I will learn of horrible things on the Internet. I have read your blog in the past and you seem to know about lots of things. Here's my situation, I hope you can help. My human Mom has been acting very strange lately, as she allows me to beg from the table which she never use to do and she feeds me delicious home baked chicken sometimes. It all started when we went to see my veterinarian and he told my mom I have cancer (lymphoma). Now I go every week to see the doctor. They are very nice to me at my veterinarian's office and treat me like I am a prince! My human Mom cries a lot after we leave there . I’m not sure why. I don't know if I have done something wrong or if maybe she is afraid of doctors and needles or maybe it is because when we leave the office the nurse gives me a tasty cookie but never offers one to her.

Please let me know what you think,

Winston, a 5 yr. old, Heroic Boy Boxer Dog. Los Angeles, Calif.

Dear Winston,

Thank you for writing in and introducing yourself to me. I am always looking forward to meeting new canine friends through my blog! You seem like a very intelligent dog (and I'm not just saying that as you too are a handsome Boxer dog.....well then again, maybe I am!) I understand your Ma'ams (human Mom) concern with the Internet. There are a lot of ditsy humans out there not to mention those insecure trolls who misuse the Internet to promote their own human inadequacies. A dog would never dream of spreading such mindless muck nor waste their time in doing so. Not when one can be outdoors playing chase while enjoying the sweet smell of fresh cut grass and the feeling of the sun on your bum. Now that's knowing how to use your time wisely!

When I first read about you and Cancer I thought you were talking about your astrological sign, Cancer the Crab! Which would mean that you are Emotional and loving, Intuitive and imaginative, Shrewd and cautious, Protective and sympathetic. I on the other hand, am a Virgo the Virgin. Which means I am Modest and shy, Meticulous and reliable, Practical and diligent, Intelligent and analytical. After re-reading your email I realized my obvious faux pas but would still probably guess that you are the intuitive, loving Crab and since I am a virgin, (which my snooty cousin Sonie has informed me, I will be till the day I die) I am most certainly a Virgo.

I must admit I was dismayed when I looked up what a Lymphoma is, but also encouraged at the same time. I learned that Lymphoma is one of the most common cancers (not the astrological Crab kind) seen in dogs. The Golden Retriever is especially susceptible to developing lymphoma. Breeds that are also commonly affected include Boxer, Scottish Terrier, Basset Hound, Airedale Terrier, Chow Chow,German Shepherd, Poodle , St. Bernard, Bulldog, Beagle, and Rottweiler. I'm glad that your Ma'am has chosen to do chemotherapy because I also read that, if a dog tolerates chemotherapy (and fortunately most dogs do) their quality of life can be quite good during the treatment period. Treatment for lymphoma in the dog is considered one of the more successful cancer treatments and can often be performed by a local veterinarian without the need to travel long distances to veterinary schools or specialty clinics (Darn, there goes your chance to go to Paris for treatment and meet a lot of "hot" french poodle girls!). It helps to remember that one year can equate to almost 10% of a dog's expected life span, therefore, the increased life expectancy with lymphoma treatment is often well worth it as I am sure it will be worth it for you Winston.

But as all canines know whether our lives are long or short we dogs enjoy a much better life style than do most humans. We sleep in, in the mornings, (a lot of us in our humans beds) and enjoy our meals without ever having to lift a paw. Our humans like to fuss over us and talk silly baby talk to us. They remember our birthdays and we celebrate their holidays with them. The fact is that we owe a lot to our humans as they do plenty for us. (Well maybe not so much The Old Lady as she does have me spending quite a bit of time in a "time out" in my crate when ever I get caught being "too" creative!) But best of all we canines don't have to waste our time worrying, 'cause our humans do plenty of that for us!

I do believe that your problem is that your human Ma'am is one of those lovey, worrier kinds of Ma'ams. She loves you so she worries about you! So this is my advice to you Mr. Winston:

1. Make sure that when you are leaving your veterinarians office that your Ma'am is offered a cookie. This will alleviate any feelings of favoritism between you and your Ma'am. But if she doesn't care for the crunchy biscuit I encourage you to also refuse one. This will give her a feeling that you are a real team and can face anything together! Then when you are back in the car, give her that look that says "Gee, I could really do with a Baskin Robbins cone right now." Your Ma'am will want to be supportive of her team mate and immediately take you for a scoop! I encourage a choice of "Very Berry Strawberry Ice Cream". It's really good for you as Strawberries are rich in Vitamin C which is good for the immune system, it's also a good source of manganese, omega 3, B5, B6 and vitamin K. Then there is the ice cream which is packed full of calcium which keeps our bones healthy and for your Ma'am helps control blood pressure and puts a damper on those PMS moments!

2. When your Ma'am is having a sad time ('cause she's worrying about you) give her a lick on her hand and then take her for a walk. As I have stated before, humans need lots of exercise.
Exercise causes a release of endorphins which can create a feeling of calm. As canines we all know that if humans would only worry less and spend more time chewing on a good bone, digging in the garden or chasing a butterfly, a frog, another dog or even their own tail, they would experience more tranquility in their daily lives.

3. Allow your Ma'am to pamper you! It will be help her to be in the moment. Humans are always measuring time with their calendars,their wall clocks and their wrist watches. They live for the future and love to talk about the past. We canines are fortunate enough to live in the moment. We enjoy the here and now! So any time your girl wants to give you a treat from the table smile and give a look that says "Way to go Ma'am!" When she takes the time to cook something special for you show your appreciation by letting her give you a back rub. This will let her know that at this moment in time you know what it is to be the luckiest dog ever!

Do take Care Dear Winston and continue to enjoy each moment, as only a dog knows how!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

......And God created Man and Woman and was pleased.....but he knew they would need a special companion, one who would be at their side to help protect and guide them......and so God created a special being and he looked at his new creation and was touched by how much it loved the humans and how it wanted to be with them at all times whether good or bad......and God said to this new creation "I shall call you Dog.........because it is you above all others that reflects what is in my heart." -Brent the Boy Boxer Dog 2010

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

Brent and the Ark

Hey Girls it's me Brent!

Well the rains are upon us once again and once again I am haunted by the memory of the Spring flooding of 2010! Because of the horrific images that come to mind when I speak of the floods, I have not done so in the past. But now I feel I must attempt to, in hopes of creating a cathartic cleansing of my cognitive memory. (I really have no idea what I just said, but I think it looks really good in print!)
It all started out on a cold rainy night, as do most frightful events in ones life. We had all had our teeth brushed, with some gritty,"minty" toothpaste that The Old Lady had picked up at the 99 cent store. The Old Girl then gave us a quick brush/rub down and secured/locked us away in our crates/jails. The sound of the rain against the window pane made me sleepy, but it also made me wish I had peed my last time outside, instead of playing chase with my snooty cousin Sonie. Drat that girl for having kidneys like a spinfex hopping mouse!
I thought about calling out to The Old Lady and request to be "let out" one more time, but I could hear the opening theme song for "Golden Girls" coming from the den (I mean really, how many times can one woman watch a re-run?) and knew her answer to my request would only be to "Stop barking!" So I positioned/balanced myself on my back and was soon in the depths of blissful REM. I was in the middle of my favorite dream, the one where I am chasing "The Ginger Snap Girl" on the beach, when I first noticed the wetness. I sat up with a start, thinking that I had relieved myself, on myself. But the realization of the true situation was far scarier! The rain had increased during my sleep and was now flooding into our room from underneath the door to the backyard patio . Visions of tsunamis and drowning crowded my mind! "Holy Muskatel" I shouted," We're all going to die!"
The big dog Doc was the first one to tell me to "shut up!" He was sleeping on his side facing away from the on coming waters and didn't appear at all concerned. I turned to my Mom Biscuit but she was snoring and had that Mom look on her face of "Hell no, don't wake me up!"I stood up and looked over to my snooty cousin Sonie who was now awake and giving me the stink eye for disturbing her "beauty sleep". I ignored her reproachful look and asked "Do you think we should warn The Old Lady about the possibility of our impending demise?"
"Oh Brent, your so overly dramatic. It's just a little water and no, I don't think you should wake up Susan. Goodness knows she needs her beauty sleep. Now turn over and go back to sleep!" Oh great, now the Queen of canine drama was calling me overly dramatic! But, she did have a point, The Old Lady definitely needs all of the beauty sleep she can get! I turned over in my crate/jail and dozed on and off for the next few hours with one eye opened. It was about 4 o'clock in the morning when I was awakened by the sound of water lapping against the bottom pan of my crate/jail. I sat up and was about to scream out "Every dog for himself," when I noted that the others were all fast asleep and in no apparent distress over our current circumstance.

Fearing further ridicule from my snooty cousin Sonie or worst yet, vexing the big dog Doc. I said nothing and sat in the corner of my crate/jail, contemplating my soon to be exit from this world and trying to embrace the fact that it was to be my destiny to die too young and unpublished. I was well into my grief and pity when I thought about my Mom Biscuit sleeping quietly in her crate/jail unaware of the danger that was rising around us. Looking at the rise and fall of her chest as she softly snored in her blissful sleep, I realized that it was up to me to save her from this pending doom! So I made a decision to ignore my own safety and dive into the murky depths of the flooding waters to rescue the one who is responsible for my very being!
The rain continued to fall as I began to dig at the bottom pan of my crate/jail. I dug with a fury of self realization that I was now a dog on a mission to save his Mom! I must have dug for hours but at last I had successfully pushed the bottom pan of my crate/jail all the way out. Unfortunately it was then that I realized that my crate/jail has a wire bottom under the pan making it impossible to "dig one's way out." Curses, foiled! I also noted that without the pan in place, me and my crate/jail were now paw deep in water and it was cold water at that!
I must be truthful and admit that I began to sniffle a bit at this juncture of my rescue operation. I did not know what to do. My crate/jail blanket which had at one time been warm and fluffy was now a wet soggy pile in the corner of my crate/jail. I looked at the big dog Doc, my Mom Biscuit and my snooty cousin Sonie, all of whom were still sleeping soundly in their warm dry crates and suddenly I felt very sad and very alone. I hung my head in defeat, well aware that I wasn't in any position to rescue anybody. What was a poor canine boy to do? With the rising water I thought, the only thing that would save us now was an Ark. Yes, that's what we needed an Ark! That would solve our dilemma! I quickly decided I could pray for an ark! I knew how to do it as I often hear The Old Lady crying out to the "Big Guy." Like when she found me in her garden with a freshly picked egg plant, dangling from my mouth, and cried out, "Dear God! What are you doing Brent?"
But to whom should I address my request? With a Methodist mother and a Jewish father (yes, I am of mixed breeding and yes dogs do follow the faith of their breeders.....it just makes it easier that way) I wasn't sure which side to call upon . I closed my eyes and cleared my head (which for me is really easy to do!) allowing any presence who wanted to intervene spiritually to do so.....ASAP! After a few minutes of cerebral silence I opened my eyes and calmly asked out loud "Dear God, be you Jewish, Methodist, or Buddhist please help me!" It was at that very moment that I saw a soft glow coming from under the doorway leading into the house. As the door opened the light got much brighter. It was shining directly into my eyes and I was gripped with fear as I called out, "Oh dear God, if you have to take someone......... .. please take my snooty cousin Sonie. Please don't take me or my Mom Biscuit!" Then a voice from within the light said, "Brent, what in the hell have you done?" Well I was rather pleased and instantly perplexed at the same time, for God not only knew me by name but his voice sounded somewhat familiar. Although I must admit I was very surprised that he cursed, and he continued to curse as he entered the room. When he approached my crate/jail I thought I recognized his green terry cloth robe, but it was when he let out a shrill scream as the flood water saturated his house slippers that I realized it wasn't "God" at all, it was just The Old Lady with a flash light in her hand coming to see what my "barking" was about. To be honest, I was never so happy to see The Old Girl as at that moment. Of course she carried on and moaned and groaned as she moved our crates/jails into the living room. It took her most of the day to clean up the water and I must admit I did enjoy watching her through the window as she filled sand bags in the rain and placed them in front of the door to the backyard trying to divert the flooding.

Thinking about it, I don't know how I could have confused The Old Lady with "God". But I do know my prayers were answered. The floods were diverted and me and my Mom did not drown. The next day when the rain stopped and the sun came out, The Old Lady let us out to play in the backyard. It was great to be out and free once again. I met up with Benny the Beagle at the fence and told him of my terrifying experience. Benny said he was very familiar with the story of "Noah and the Ark". Last summer he had been in an re-enactment of the story of the Ark at his humans vacation bible school. Benny said he was quite believable in his portrayal of a yak, but that Louie the German Shepherd, who was suppose to be portraying an elephant, was not so good, as he chewed off his trunk before he even got on stage. Benny also told me about Noah and the rainbow and how I should look for one to see if I had indeed experienced a heavenly intervention. After looking up into the skies for more than an hour all I noted was that, if you stare at the sun too long you will see spots and get a really bad headache! I never saw the red, orange, yellow, green, indigo blue or violet in the sky that make up the optical phenomenon. So I gave up on the idea and decided to play chase with my snooty cousin Sonie.
Later as we were lying around on the grass, I felt an overwhelming feeling of joy at just being alive so I jumped up and did a few laps around the yard (That's what we dogs do when we feel joyful!). As I ran I noted how blue the sky was in contrast to the greenness of the grass and how my Mom Biscuit's coat looked especially shiny and red in the bright yellow sunlight and as I paused to take a sniff and a munch at The Old Lady's lilac bush, I stopped and reflected that in life, with it's ups and downs and occasional very frightful moments, there really are lots of rainbows, sometimes we just need to look for them!
Well girls, I hope it's sunny where you're at today.
Best to you,
Brent the boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? Just Ask Brent!

email all questions to brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

"Just Ask Brent"

Dear Just Brent,

Your column has been very helpful in the past and I am hoping you can help me now. I have a household of wonderful Boxers who I love dearly, but I often have a problem (as have other owners I know) with my dogs refusing to come in when called. I used to be able to get them to follow the command when I called out “cookie, cookie, cookie” (which I would have in hand and gave to them when they came). Now, they will stop and look at me in defiance as if to say, “I’m not falling for that trick, 'cause you want to put me in the crate, or make me go outside, or make me come inside" (or whatever else I want them to do). What do you recommend I do to get them to come when I call them? Please help me with my divas.

Miss Bonnie, Proud owner/breeder/lover of gorgeous Boxers!

Dear Miss Bonnie,

This is so cool as you are only my second human to write in. This shows me that you obviously have an above average IQ. Unfortunately, I think that your smartness might have rubbed off on your dogs! Either that or your choice of cookies are of questionable quality and/or flavor! I hope you are not offering Animal Cookies! While it is true that their frosting is both festive and flavorful, I myself find it a bit cannibalistic to consume them. One time Bridget the Poodle, who lives across the street, had taken a pink frosted rhinoceros animal cookie and buried it in her toy box. When she found it eight months later, it had not aged at all! The rhinoceros was still bright pink and festive. She had offered it to me, but I said "No thank you! I'm no cannibal!" But Benny the Beagle said he did not have a problem eating a rhinoceros and took it down in a munch and a gulp. Verdict? Still flavorful and crunchy, according to Benny the Beagle.

So my Dear Miss Bonnie here is my advice to you,

1.Only buy really good cookies. As I have revealed in the past, my very favorite cookies are the Ginger Snaps from Trader Joe's. Do not low ball your canine family with a discounted store brand or even worse do not under any circumstances call "Cookies, Cookies" unless you really have some in your hand and are ready to reward those who believe in your words and come running. If you do try to low ball your canine family and make empty promises they will think you are a politician and possibly try to bite your leg when you approach them!

2. Have a Boxer family meeting. (The Old Lady loves doing these!) Gather your Boxers together in a circle with you sitting cross legged in the middle.With a tear in your voice say "I don't know where I went wrong? Heaven knows I try. But do I get any support from you guys?" When you say this last line try and make eye contact with each of your non "Cookie" responders. Then let out a big sigh and look very disappointed while you slowly shake your head from side to side. This will make your non "Cookie" responders feel very guilty and want to change their ways!

3. If all else fails buy a goat! Preferably a Nigerian Dwarf goat as they are very friendly and cute! I know this as Moose the Bloodhound who lives around the corner met one at his cousin's house. Moose said that goats will eat just about anything (maybe not "Treat" but just about anything else!) And how clever is it that they come to you already named? I would encourage you to pick a Nanny goat and not a Billy goat because even though the Billy's smell is delightful, they can be really bossy, much like my cousin Sonie! Believe me, the arrival of your new goat will put your non " Cookie" responders on Notice! Just imagine yourself at your backdoor calling out "Nanette cookies!" (You will probably want to call your goat Nanette in front of your Boxers as this will impress them that she has a "Show Girl" name. As your goat eats the cookies in front of the non responders, say things like "Good goat," and "Oh Nanette you are my special girl" as you look into her horizontal pupiled eyes. (Do not stare into your goats eyes too long as she might try to hypnotize you! Moose says goats can do that but Benny says, " No way." I say better safe than sorry!) If you say these things in front of your Boxers, they will be very jealous and fearful that if they don't behave and come when called, they might just soon be replaced by this friendly, cute caprine!

My Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? " Just Ask Brent"

email your questions to Brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

or Bigdane220@yahoo.com

Brent and the Vicker

Hey Girls It's Me Brent!
Man oh man! What a day I had today. Let me tell you girls, it is one that I will not soon forget!
Early this morning there was a terrible commotion at the back fence. In the alley behind our yard there was a strange dog barking and carrying on. Of course all of the neighborhood dogs were at full attention and the big dog Doc was in commando mode with my snooty cousin Sonie right behind him. I couldn't see what was causing all the fuss so I added my support by barking and looking "tough" as I charged the fence. When I got close enough to see through the Oleander hedge, I caught site of a small scruffy dog who was all alone. He was doing his best to look fierce, but even I could tell he was more than a little intimidated by all of the name calling and dog verbiage being thrown his way. The Old Lady soon put an end to all of the ruckus by calling us into the house for "Cookies".

Now when I hear the word "Cookie "I make a bee line for the back door, to be out run only by my Mom Biscuit. The big dog Doc and my snooty cousin Sonie aren't quite as cookie motivated as me and my Mom. Sometimes The Old Lady has to go out into the yard and demand that they come back inside immediately. I always get a good chuckle when she is still in her PJ's when she does this, as she is quite the site!
After we were all settled back into our crates/jails and finally given a cookie, I asked the big dog Doc what was up with the small scruffy dog at our fence. The big dog Doc said the small scruffy dog was some stray who had no business hanging around his backyard fence! By his tone I could tell he was still miffed about the whole incident so I turned to my snooty cousin Sonie for further questioning.

"Hey Princess Champion, what was that small scruffy dog doing all alone in the alley way", I queried. Ever since my snooty cousin Sonie became a champion, she makes me call her "Princess Champion". I don't like calling her "Princess Champion", but if I just call her Sonie, she won't answer me and will then refuse to play with me in the backyard. My Mom Biscuit says it's just a phase she's going through and that she will soon answer to Sonie again. But I'm not so sure 'cause it's been over six months now and she's still referring to herself as "The Princess Champion"!
"It's true dear cousin Brent, that poor misfortunate creature at our back gate was a stray mongrel. (Did I also mention, that she is also now a Champion Drama Diva?) That pathetic little tyke has no home to go home too". With that the "Champion Princess of Drama" let one lone tear roll down her brindled furry cheek as she let out a theatrical sigh and then stretched out to take a nap. She then mumbled something about needing her beauty sleep and with a yawn closed her eyes. I was about to say something doggily rude, about her obvious need for beauty sleep, but decided to cut my losses and go to the source of truth, my Mom Biscuit!

"So Mom", I asked, "What happened to that mongrel's family?" My mom immediately chastised me for using the word mongrel stating that, "Underneath our fur, we are all the same dog." Hanging my head to "appear" shameful, I apologized and questioned in a more polite canine manner why it was that the little dog did not have a home.
"Unfortunately Brent, that little dog's humans no longer want him to be a part of their family."
"But I don't understand Mom, why didn't they find him a new home, like my sister Bebe has?"
"Oh Brent, your sister Bebe moved to a new home because it was her time to have her own family to care for. Unfortunately, there are some humans who are not very kind and will abandon their canine family member without regard to their safety or future."

Well needless to say I was dumbfounded. How could a human not be concerned about their dog's safety and future? I mean The Old Lady definitely gets under my epidermis, but at least she always feeds me! The Old Girl even brushes my teeth and washes my face at night. Not that I really enjoy all that feather fuss! I prefer to smell like a real dog with real dog breath, not like a mint julep!
"So Mom, you're saying there are people out there who treat their dog family members meaner than The Old Lady treats me?" Now I don't know if I've mentioned it before but my Mom Biscuit considers The Old Lady one of her best friends. Why? I don't know, but she does!
"Brent, you know I don't like it, when you call Susan, " The Old Lady." As far as dogs go we are treated better than most. Susan tries very hard to keep us healthy and happy."
"Yeah right!" I answered in a most snide tone. The words were out of my mouth and into my Mom's ears just as I realized I had actually said them out loud. Dang! I'm dead I thought to myself. I didn't know where to look as I was sure my Mom Biscuit had one of those Killer, Mad Mom Looks on her face. When I finally did look her way, her expression was one of sadness more than anything else. "Oh my dear Brent, you are so young. Sit down in your crate it's time I told you about the ways of the world outside of our yard." She then proceeded to tell me about a human monster called "The Vicker" (AKA Michael Vick).
"Outside of our yard and beyond there is a world of terrifying creatures who prey on weak and defenseless animals. Though they are humans, they act more like subhuman demons who enjoy inflicting pain and watching the suffering of animals. These demon creatures cause beautiful dogs, whose only desire is to please their master, to fight and tear at one another resulting in bloodshed and agony. And as if that was not enough the subhuman creatures themselves inflict great pain and suffering on those poor dogs who have not won the fight. These despicable creatures care nothing about the cost of canine life only about their lust for fighting and mayhem."

"But don't they know that dogs don't like to fight! We are pack animals we are suppose to protect each other for the good of the pack. (Even I was impressed with my comment! My time spent with The Old Lady watching Animal Planet had payed off at last!)
"These monsters, do not even care that dogs being a very social species, will love a human that is shunned by other humans!"
Now I know my Mom Biscuit, is very smart and has been on the show circuit as a young dog, but I could not imagine where she would have been exposed to such gruesomeness!
"How do you know these things?" I asked in a hushed whisper.
"Well" she said," I was searching through the bathroom trash in hopes of finding a napkin, full of cookie crumbs, left behind by Jim (AKA The Old Man) after one of his midnight cookie jar raids, when I spied the Daily News sports page lying on the floor next to the large porcelain drinking bowl. I was hoping to see who had won in the fifth race at Santa Anita, (With a name like "Biscuit"My Mom is quite the racing enthusiast. Don't even get her started on Zenyatta!) when I came upon an article about this athlete who hated and viciously mistreated his dogs and made them fight for money!"


I was speechless! How could there be a human like that? "Oh no!" I cried. "What did they do to him for such dastardly behavior towards our aniamlian totem?"
"They put him in prison for a short time and then ........they let him go."
"They let him go? But how could they? If a dog were to do any of those deeds he would be put to death! If they let this demon go, where is he now?" I asked fearing that this monster might come for me! My Mom Biscuit dropped her head and said in a sad whisper "There are many subhumans who care very little about what happens to dogs my sweet Brentenious." The Monster Vicker", is playing football once again while many subhumans cheer him on, and others pay him millions of human dollars to do so." I sat quietly in my crate/jail for a few minutes pondering what my Mom Biscuit had divulged to me. Real live Monsters outside of my yard, who don't care about their canine friends! Pain and suffering inflicted on dogs for sport? What kind of humans are these? At that moment my life with The Old Lady and my snooty cousin, "The Princess Champion", didn't seem so bad. But then, I thought about my sister Bebe and the great life she is having with her humans who I know protect her from any monsters. "Mom," I asked,"When will I be ready to have my own family to care for like my sister Bebe does?"
"Someday Brent, when you are a little older, I am sure there will be a special, no a very special person or family that will be just right for you! But until then, you're my boy!"
It was at that moment that The Old Lady came in to release us from our crate/jails. The big dog Doc was the first one out followed by "The Princess Champion." As The Old Lady, bent down to open my Mom Biscuit's crate/jail, I saw a flicker of a smile cross my Mom's face as she looked up at The Old Girl, still in her PJ's ,with her hair a mess. As she bent down to pat my Mom Biscuit, The Old Lady asked, "How's my girl doing?" My Mom started the "I love you no matter what wiggle," which truly delighted The Old Lady. I looked at the two of them and it occurred to me that my Mom loves The Old Girl in much the same way as I love my Mom! Which is a whole lot! So I deciphered that being my Mom's boy is okay for right now.
But someday I hope to have my own family like my sister Bebe does. I know I will love them and take good care of them. And of course they will love me and and want to protect me from The Monsters that are outside of my yard. I think they will also want to give me lots of cookies when I am good.......or maybe just because they love me! And because they are a good family they will never ever want to brush my teeth!

So Girls, until then I guess I will just have to put up with The Old Lady!


Best to you,
Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

"Just Ask Brent"

Dear Just Brent,

I am writing for my cousin as she is too shy to write to you. My cousin "Lily", a wonderful gal, has a new friend, "Else" who is both sweet and beautiful. Else was found a few years ago running loose on the streets of Los Angeles, so who knows what's in her background. Lily and Else get together three times a week for play time. They really look forward to those times. However there is a big problem! Every time Else comes over to play, Else's does her business in Lily's bedroom!!! No lie! To top it off, Else acts like she has done nothing wrong! So my dear Brent, what to do?? I will impart any suggestions you may have to my cousin.

Fred the Schnauzer 6 yrs. of age

Toluca Lake, Ca

Dear Fred,

Wowziers! Else was found wandering the streets of Los Angeles? Man I have never even been to L.A. much less allowed to wander about with out The Old Lady hovering/smothering over me! You do not say what part of L.A. Else was found so I am not so sure that her doing her business is not just a localized custom that she is performing when visiting her new friend. I know that the Shih Tzu feels very comfortable about leaving behind a bit of themselves when visiting someones home. I know this as there is a Shih Tzu named Ernie who lives two doors down from me. He is a real friendly guy who likes to visit my neighbor Benny the Beagle on a regular bases. Just last week at the backyard fence, Benny and I were having a rousing discussion on the consumption of "treat". Benny said that while he considers himself a liberal about most things, "treat" was beyond his reasoning! Ernie the Shih Tzu, who had stopped by to shoot the breeze, said he didn't mind "treat" but instead of taking it for himself preferred leaving it behind as a token of his esteem for his host. I had not heard of this custom before and was instantly impressed that Ernie had such a Continental way about himself! Boy, you learn something new everyday!

So my dear Fred this is my advice for your cousin,

1. When Else comes to visit say Halló Else og velkomin. This means "Hello Else and welcome" in Icelandic. (I'm thinking that with a name like Else she must be Icelandic!) Your speaking Icelandic will impress her and she will want to listen to what you have to say.

2. If Else does do her business in your room act surprised. Then casually mention that unlike in L.A./Iceland this custom is not pleasing to the host and that the backyard is the preferred area for doing business. Direct Else to the backyard facilities where, after she has done her business, you should have a robust game of chase. Make sure you let her win as this will let her know that there are no hard feelings concerning her previous social faux pas.

3. When Else no longer does this L.A./Icelandic ritual, show her your appreciation, by preparing a few traditional dishes, from her Icelandic homeland such as skyr, cured ram scrota, hakarl, sharks head which is left buried under ground for several months to ferment and blood pudding. These culinary delights will make Else feel right at home and she will treasure your friendship forever!

And if all "else" fails Dear Fred, tell Lily to KEEP HER DOOR CLOSED when Else visits!

My Best to You,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on life? " Just Ask Brent"

email your questions to Brenttheboyboxerdog@gmail.com

or Bigdane220@yahoo.com

Just Ask Brent!

Dear Just Brent,

I am a professional Dog Dancer and have also studied the art of obedience. I enjoy competitions and good times of just hanging out with my human Jo Jo. (My human's given name is Jo Anne but we are real tight so I call her Jo Jo.) However, my life has been turned upside down since she brought home the new puppy. She calls him Skywalker because he is always in the air. Personally, I call him "Sky Pest" and a few other choice names because, he won’t leave me alone!

Yesterday I had had enough and wanted some alone time, so I went to my crate/sleeping quarters, stepped inside and pulled the crate door shut. After a good long nap I got up, did a leisurely stretch with a touch of Tae Kwon Do for good measure. I was ready to get out of my crate/sleeping quarters but "Sky Pest" was lying down outside of my quarters with his annoying puppy butt leaning up against the door. For a moment, I was frozen in terror! I couldn't get out! Oh No! I started to cry like a baby and soon my girl Jo Jo came running and moved" Sky Pest" out of the way.

I have tried to be patient but it is getting harder, day-by-day, moment by moment. "Sky Pest" has now taken to uprooting all the flowers in our beautiful yard. He likes to bring the Iris bulbs into the house to show them off. He also brings in roots, twigs, and branches of anything he can reach. My Jo Jo has to rake the carpet before she vacuums. And what is really scary, is that recently he has taken to bringing in large pieces of concrete. We can't find where he is collecting them from and my humans are fearful that it is from the foundation of our house.
I think "Sky Pest" needs to go! But my Jo Jo does seem to really like him and she does find some of his antics humorous, although I don't know why! What I do know is that I want him to just leave me alone. Please advise on how I can get "Sky Pest" to quit bugging me!

Daisy, Boxer girl, 9 1/2 years old and going strong!
Bakersfield, Ca

Dear Daisy, Unfortunately what is going on here is a classic situation of les différences artistiques canine. In other words your boy Sky is an artistic Naturalist where as you, as a dancer, sound like a student of Purism. I know these things as Bridget the Poodle who lives across the street is also a student of Purism enjoying both water colors and pastels. It's amazing what that girl can do with a garden hose and a tube of Cotton Candy Pink lipstick!

I myself am a disciple of the Naturalist art form with a lean toward cubism at times. Both are relevant forms of expression in the dog world and are supported by most canine groups who dabble in the arts. The good news is, that yes, the two can co-exist under the same human built roof! What you need to understand and eventually embrace are the differences in the two.

Canine Purist (pups of Purism) tend to follow a clear precise art form. This concept is reflected in their still life work presentations which are both clean and pure.

Canine Naturalist ( pups of Naturalism) are an off shoot of the 19Th century Realism movement and often adopt a Darwinian perspective of life. They're works depict realistic objects in a natural setting. Okay let me break it down for you canine style!

Purist artistic dogs enjoy store bought toys from places like Pet A Go Go, Pets R Us and Wag'ems. They like to take their white and yellow nylon bones, lime green Frisbee and sky blue rubber balls to the middle of the yard and create a collage of inspiration. They appreciate that when left out overnight that precise presentation of pure originality will be cleansed by the sprinklers in the AM to once again sparkle in the sunlight of a new day.

Naturalist canine artists (myself and Benny the Beagle who lives next door) prefer the raw creativity of nature's toys found in their own backyard. Your boy Sky shows a clear Naturalist tendency with his use of twigs, roots and branches. Though potentially dangerous, I find his use of humanistic concrete to be both bold and original. And let us not ignore his incorporating your Purism influence with his use of the pastel Irises. I say well done! This boy definitely deserves your support as a budding artist!

Therefore, My Dear Daisy here is my advice to you;

1. Whenever you find Sky the Naturalist preparing to create, assist him with his gathering of the garden elements (twigs, branches, rocks and leaves). If he decides to lean toward a cubism expression (dig a hole), say "Hey Sky! How's about we work on this cubist endeavor together?" He will think you a great leader and very smart as you share his artistic vision.

2. If Sky decides to mix it up with a little Naturalism and a touch of Purism, applaud his daring by saying "Way to go Sky Guy!" The use of a personal nickname, from you, will help to build a bridge between your differing artistic tastes and let him know that you are there for him!

3. Promise him, that you will teach him to dog dance and that he will soon be the Fred Astaire of the dog world, but first he must quit eating the foundation of your home! If this does not quash his appetite for concrete say, "Jeepers Sky don't be a Chowder Head! The first two things that all dogs learn as pups are, one don't bite the hand that feeds you and two don't eat the house you live in!" Shake your head in disbelief, with your eyes narrowed, as you say this to him. This will embarrass him as he recalls that, yes indeed his mother did tell him not to do these two things as a pup. When he looks fully remorseful say "That's Okay Sky Guy, just don't let it ever happen again." He will now know that you can be both stern and forgiving. His appreciation for you as both a leader and an artist will be immense! His daily goal will now be to please, not pester you!

Best to you,

Brent the Boy Boxer Dog

Need some advice on Life?

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