Sporting Bull Terrier Book

Read this book and you'll get an idea of what's it's like every day of my life. My cousin gave it to me for my birthday (in May), part as a gag but really because everyone knows just how cracked out my dog actually is. He's not a bad dog, he's just hiding a little doggy bag of cocaine in his crate. Even if your dog isn't as insane as mine, you'll still get a kick out of this book.

Some of the drawings, by Fred Hillard, are just absolutely hilarious and eerily relatable. All they were missing was a picture of a twelve pound MinPin stepping on a person's throat in the morning in lieu of an alarm clock. That'd be the start of my day.

Although one bit certainly hit the nail on the head-
The early riser wakes with the sun and welcomes the day with a burst of enthusiasm. He likes to share his feelings with others. Having done so, he promptly goes back to sleep.

I can't tell you how many times my little bastard's done that, not only during the week but on the weekends as well. He gets up, all excited, can't stay still, wants to get out, wants to get out, wants to get out. I let him out, feed him and start doing my thing because I'm wide freakin' awake. Where does he go? Back upstairs, under my blankets and goes back to sleep for an undetermined amount of time.

Unfortunately the book was blissfully lacking in chapters on extreme chewing (not just on the wussy chewing they broached, my dog destroys Kongs, just so you know what I'm dealing with here, and just to remind you, he's a Miniature Pinscher) and peeing on my bed out of spite. I would have liked to have known the author's take on such a dilemma. Trainers said it was his "teen" years. Yeah, well, I didn't pop a squat on my mom's bed when she wouldn't let me have the car, now did I?

Overall, a cute read, definitely worth the half hour it took for me to get through it. It's also rather therapeutic; making me laugh at my dwindling stockpile of shoes and blankets that more closely resemble Swiss cheese. It's more of an insane laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

And now I leave you with some images of my very own neurotic dog. You can call him Malfoy . . .



No I didn't destuff my own comforter and yes, that is a bobble head Jesus my dog is chewing on. Do you have a neurotic dog?