Saw this 29 day photo challenge on the Interwebs…going to try it out even though comps writing somewhat limits today’s topic – my view. Still, there’s nothing better than having a loyal pooch by your side. 20 days into writing. Laptop, couch, poodle. A winning formula, right?
Category Archives: The Occasional Noodle
I have been looking forward to the new Muppet movie with great excitement. I mean, finally – a updated film focused on awesome animal characters displaying some modicum of near-human intelligence and an evolved mastery of English. So, it was with great disappointment that I read the following news release:
I will review the highlights in increasingly appalling order, the main one being that THERE IS A NEW MUPPET POODLE (joy!) but THAT POODLE IS GIVEN AWAY BY MISS PIGGY (for reals!??).
Also, the poodle is called Foo-Foo. I mean! Try giving it a name with a little class. Like my name – which exudes both a sense of adorableness and an association with pasta.
Apparently, Foo-Foo (snort!) does not get along with Kermit the Frog and has something against the color green. Perhaps Foo-Foo was merely trying to signal to Miss Piggy that she might want to reconsider this whole pig dating a frog debacle. I’m all for free love, but can you imagine what their children would look like? Not as cute as an amazingly soft and sweet poodle, that’s for sure.
Lastly, need I even mention the greatest oversight of all? It is true – I was not even considered for the part. Why create a stuffed poodle puppet when I could be running around set, stirring up trouble and yelling at the hair people for making me look too puffy?
My complaints are many, but I will spare you further details. From this point forward, I will dedicate my energy to BOYCOTTING the Muppet movie until Foo-Foo’s role is restored and renamed.
This is why it pays to vigilantly follow celebrity gossip – you never know when a poodle’s honor will need to be defended. Foo-Foo and Noo-Noo in solidarity!
It wouldn’t be September without hordes of ladies trotting down Franklin Street. But in addition to wanting to pet me and lavish me with attention, it appears that they are all part of a process called sorority rush. Watching them try so hard to gain the approval of upperclassmen has made me wonder if there isn’t room for another, kinder, gentler type of organization. One with fewer sundresses and high heels (unless that delightful pair of pumps can become my latest chew toy).
It is this type of reflection that has led me to proudly introduce the founding chapter of Chapel Hill’s newest sorority, Alpha Alpha Nu. (Or, Alpha Alpha Noo. During the first meeting, we’ll take a vote.) Given my excitable nature, I think it goes without saying that I plan on attracting an equally active membership.
Pledging: To become a Noo, one must be extremely well-bred. I am, after all, from partial champion stock. But once you become part of the inner circle, the benefits will be numerous. And parents – you needn’t worry about the types of unseemly activities that traditionally constitute sorority life. I do apologize in advance for humping that Yorkie in broad daylight.
There might be a few hoops to jump through, but practice makes perfect when it comes to winning a blue ribbon. Expect to have to fetch ME the newspaper every morning. And, be prepared to shake more than a few paws during rush events. Obviously, our pledge trip will be to the Westminster Dog Show – a.k.a. the biggest “meet market” on the East Coast.
- Strong, modern women don’t mind being the ones to bring home the bacon. Seriously, bring home some bacon. That stuff is delish.
- No one respects the easiest dog at the park. Keep those booties on the ground firmly out of sniffing range until at least the second date. Or the second minute of your first date, if your companion is extra-attractive. I trust your judgment either way.
- Is the manipulation of others unethical? To that end, I would ask another question. Does it benefit you in the form of sweet, sweet “pupperoni” treats?
- Along those lines, never do for yourself what you can train others to do for you. Walk time, anyone? Any volunteers to pick up my poop?
So today my vast intelligence was finally properly recognized, as I was admitted to Duke University (or at least the Canine Cognition Center). And after my first day, I can see why my parents speak so glowingly about their time at Duke — all they do is play games and give you cheese! Best place ever!
After arriving in my own personal reserved parking spot (something Duke’s human students don’t receive, but I’m much more important, obviously), I was led into the observation room.
The researchers wanted to test me, but first I tested them. They asked my owners to leave the room (so the test results wouldn’t be compromised). But then I jumped and whined and refused to take part until they let my owners back in the room. Even the professionals at Duke are no match for me when it comes to getting my way.
If I could read Laura’s inner thoughts, they would probably have been something like, “So this is what it’s like when your child turns out to be THAT kid on the first day of preschool. At least she has her good looks going for her.” If I could read Harold’s inner thoughts, they would probably have been something like, “At least the Cognition Center doesn’t charge tuition.” If I could read the researchers’ inner thoughts, they would definitely be something like, “You are the cutest poodle I’ve ever seen!” Because one of them actually said that! Justifiably, of course.
Anyway, now that I showed my dominance over them, I agreed to begin their test. They kept showing me two plates with cheese, and then letting me loose and recording which plate I went to. Sometimes the plates had more or less cheese. I cannot imagine how these results will help anyone in the future, but I happily played their game if it meant more cheese treats.
Then I played two more games — in one, there were three buckets. The researcher moved the cheese from one bucket to the other and I had to keep track and then find it. In the other, I had to get a piece of cheese from inside a clear plastic tube. I aced both games and ate more cheese.
I heard one researcher say that the games were the same ones they would give to infants. Really, you don’t think I’m smarter than an infant? Well, I figured out a way to get my owners back in the room within 30 seconds of you asking them to leave, so doesn’t that make me smarter than an adult?
Overall, I put in an hour of work and ate about 100 pieces of cheese, so I fit right into Duke’s “Work Hard, Play Hard” culture. For any dogs considering their college options, I would say the cheese at Duke was cold but soft, and the games were super easy so the cheese comes pretty regularly.
The end of the world may not have come this weekend, but let me tell you – things are not looking up.
First, my owners decided to celebrate the “non-rapture” by taking me on a “delightful” hike. Delightful, if you enjoy trodding uphill in ninety degree heat with six million cicadas buzzing about with spooky red eyes and shrill mating calls THAT SOUND TWENTY TIMES WORSE VIA SUPERIOR CANINE EARS.
Next, they laughingly allowed some Border Collie to herd me at the dog park. Go back to your own side of the fence, Lassie.
To add insult to injury, the open windows are off-limits after a series of unfortunate screen clawing incidents. I guess this is the thanks I get for defending us against the neighborhood’s relentless Shih Tzou population.
Worst of all, a postcard came in the mail for me. Exciting! Oh, wait – except that it says I need to get more SHOTS. Just a friendly reminder. Ha! I remember the days when the mail was full of nothing but Valentine’s from my long-lost love, Kate. Now, apparently she’s settled down in Philly with another kid on the way. No time for admiring my adorableness.
Yep, it’s official – woe is me. The dog days of summer are here to stay.
Yesterday my owners thought it would be a good idea to take me to the dog park and enjoy some fresh, warm spring air. Yeah – please, dump me in a pen with no escape from the dozens of savage animals trying to sniff my booty. And, don’t you know that there’s good basketball on the telly? Still, I managed to muster some enthusiasm once the other dogs acknowledged my high ranking on the adorability scale. Besides, sometimes you have to give the people what they want in order to keep those treats coming.
The intrepid Noodle explores the newly fallen snow.
Forced to wear a Santa hat? Toys replaced with dreidels? The blinding flash of the camera following your every move? If you are an adorable pet and the holiday season is approaching, you may well find this happening to you. But, all is not lost. I repeat, you must find the strength to fight back. I recommend the following strategies to combat this alarming trend:
Calmly allow your owner to strap reindeer antlers to your head. Then, as soon as she gets out the camera, knock them off with a swift shake of the head, each and every time. Let her know that you’re nobody’s fool.
Give a look that says, “I’m putting up with this for now, but my dinner bowl better be filled with bacon.”
If all else fails, threaten to jump.
When your owner finally realizes that such torture will probably end with the animal cruelty folks hot on her trail, you’ll soon find yourself free from the shackles of holiday themed pet imagery. And when she goes to the drugstore and buys a box of cards with a simple winter scene instead of printing the ones featuring your sad mug, you can safely enjoy your victory.
Last but not least, to prevent this problem from surfacing again, my final recommendation is key:
Think about eating the props & silly outfits. Then do it. You can always throw up synthetic stuffing and fabric, but humiliating pics can haunt you for years to come.
I’ve heard that people get bigger over the holidays. This is such an easy fix it’s laughable — just shave off your hair. It will make you look 1/3 the size in no time! Here are my before and after shots:
No need to diet; losing so much weight gives me free rein to gobble down dinner, even post-Thanksgiving turkey. And while I’m now freezing cold, on the plus side I can see out of my eyes. It was hard to choose between my vision and my dignity, but such is life. Although, if the stupid groomer puts red bows on my ears again, her own life may just come to a tragic end. Witness this sad state of affairs below:
Lately, I’d begun to feel a bit neglected. Apparently, visitors and travel had begun to take precedence over my care. It was time for a plan.
Consider this a public service announcement for all those of you out there looking for a little TLC: get sick. Get some kind of mild yet lingering illness, if you can. Then, not only will your servants stay home to take care of you on a Friday night, their measly pet budget will suddenly take a turn in the right direction.
It was pretty easy to get their budget software to start flashing messages like, “Normally you spend $75 a month on “Pets”. This month, you spent all the money you saved to pay tuition.” I discovered early on that my main enemy in this quest was something called medicine, and I’m sure they’ll never discover the pile of pills I’ve been spitting into one of their old sneakers. Plus, it doesn’t take great acting to let out a little moan here and there, or perfect a few imploring looks.
This weekend, I almost blew it. They took me along on one of their trips, for once (success!), and I showed a bit too much energy while celebrating the Redskins victory. This almost pushed things over the edge thanks to an earlier slip-up, where I found the strength to leap onto the kitchen counter and demolish a buttered roll. It hurt me to do it, but puking it up the next day guaranteed another trip to the vet, who I have now come to see as my co-conspirator.
- The best kind of illness is both ongoing and mysterious.
- Remember to show signs of recovery, only to relapse soon afterwards. This creates a roller coaster of emotion that your loved ones will find difficult to escape.
- “Poor Noodle!” Music to my ears.