This place is for the BIRDS!

Listen, I know I have to share my space, but I must draw the line with the addition of all these birds. They bathe and poop in my water bowl. I like to select the poop I eat, not have it dumped upon me. It is rude. Then there is the flitting and flittering about when I am in sleep mode. Landing on my head mocking me! They seem to know I will get wacked if I bite them.

I need some ideas on how to bite or perhaps eat them and not get found out by you know who. do feathers digest well? Is there calcium benefits? I need calcium.

While I am at it, I also need advice on how to open the fridge and work the can opener. What is the difference between a wiggle and a waddle? Am I a winter or a summer? What is the difference between a blow out and a fluffer? There seems to be some laughing going on when I word substitute. Does corn bread get sugar in it? Why does fruit and beef make for stink air down south. Why does compost taste so good? Why do chickens shit tasty treats? Why do some people dress their dogs in clothes when they are already wearing a coat? Do you think I should get colored contacts? Will vomitting really make me thin? Do humans taste like chicken? Explain the allure of Nascar, golf and baseball. Should I get a boob job? Do you think Dog Art would sell on EBay? What does not taste good with bacon?

Gosh I am bored. I think I will go kill a bird and fling it into the ivy. Two noxious weeds unite and die. I am all about being green. Did you know rats live in ivy? They do. I eat rats.

I love a Guy in Uniform

It is Memorial Day.

I was out on the lawn getting some sun... waiting for meat juices to land in my mouth from below the grill... I put some Sun In on my fur - hoping for a little more blonde locks - I hear the men go for that.

Anyhoo, I was reading a piece on the KONP site (our only reliable and timely source of news in these parts) and ran across this story of Jag the police dog who tracked down and took down a bad guy in my town. I loves me some crime dog. The fact that he is dark and handsom... strong, dashing, good sense of smell and a bit of a bad ass... well it just makes me swoon. Or I may be suffering from the fumes from the Sun In. Maybe I better go take a dip in the doggie pool. While I am gone you can have a look at Jag and read about his capture.

Story:
http://www.konp.com/local/4772

Picture of the Hunk:

Sigh... hello lover!

Something Special For Memorial Day

Trace Adkins! Woof.



Bless our fallen heroes. Don't forget to support our guys and gals coming home from war and give to vet related charities if you can. I like www.woundedwarriorproject.org/

Ever Vigilent?

Click on it. DO IT!




Thank you Agnes!

Conservatives Gots It WRONG!!!!

Pork IS stimulus!

.... You hidin' bacon in there Lady?

Oink.

Zee Quest For Zee Wishbone

What have we
heeeerrrrreeee?

Turkey you say? Then where is the Fez?
Oh.
Then I assume I can register my request for a go at the breast without fear of offense?

All happiness seems to lie in getting to the wishbone.




Sleep 'til your hungry. Eat til your sleepy.

Meet Stella

My Frienemy!

She is a mutt.

She does not even know who her father is. OK My dad is also my uncle, but…

She does not play nice.

She is bitey and growly.

Harsh you say? Look where she is laying! MY spot on the rug.

I AM NOT jealous!

Shut your pie hole!

Pie?

MMM Pie....

Hey!

Oh look at her getting all the pets. Pet hog. You are a guest in this house madame! Get thee to the basement!

What? Why are you two taking that snarky bitch with you on a walk?

I think I saw more chicken in her dinner bowl tonight.

I think I saw Patty sneaking her a cracker! I want one…

I am gonna bite her when the humans leave the room.

When did you say she was leaving? What? Two more days with that toy stealer? Why this is beyond the pale. Wait… where is the pale again?

I am bored. Pet meeeeeee!

Stella, feel free to pee on the rug and gnaw on the kitchen cabinets. They will give you a treat if you do.

Wanna play?

Screw you old lady!

I will find someone else to play with!

Fan Mail

Have I written lately about my beloved Stephanie? Yes, you remember... the post lady! A moment of reverence please.

I have not seen her in a while due to my unfortunate stint in the big house. She was the only one who wrote to me.

Hugs and Kisses to her.

What, you no believe I was in prison? Prisoners get yard time you know.
The cookies? I had... connections.

I Was On Sabbatical OK?!

I know. It has been a long time between posts. I have been otherwise occupied OK? Deal. It has been no pickynicky for me either. You think YOU have gone through withdrawls?....

To give you a clue. Here above I am sucking on a twig at Celebrity Rehab. Doctor Drew insists that will help me kick my 4 bone a day habit. Take bone any way you want to. Let's just say me and Mary are tight.

Above is me escaping from Celebrity Rehab. I could not freaking take Gary Busey anymore. That guy has no sense of personal space.

Here below is... my mug shot.

I was totally innocent. Dogs hang in packs and they named it "Doggy Style" for a reason. So I asked Doctor Drew if maybe my sentence could be commuted to time in Sober House. Of course he was unsypathetic. Apparently he dumped me for Andy DICK? Can you believe that?
The Irony!

I sick

No pictures obviously. I am not to be trifled with when I feel barfy.

I held it as long as I could over night and then when they did not come I had to go in my bed. I tried to eat it up to hide the evidence and I cried to be let out. They came. They cuddled. They washed me and blew me dry. I barfed up my poop on the entry rug. Blah! Now nobody will kiss me. I saw my nest outside all taken apart. Why have they separated me from my nest?

Only a hunk of cheese and a porterhouse could make me feel better. S seems unconvinced and is torturing me by only offering water. Blah! I need a a Gin Ricky... or is that a slipped mickey? I am delirious.

I feel like shit and I shivery.

Mystery Dog From Labrador

So, lately I have been complaining about my miserable love life. Just because I got the fix doesn't mean I am not up for some afternoon delight folks. Jeesh! So I jotted out a short plea and dashed to some friends. I included a brief "likes/dislikes" list ala Hef and got this back.

I am not sure WHY someone was trying to pawn this kook off on me. I am a thrill seeking water dog. This one? It seems his only obsession is keeping his fur perfectly dry and coifed! I can only conclude that this mutt is from the loins of one Jimmy Johnson of Hurricane and Cowboy fame.

God. Me can'ts stand a prima donna. Or is that primo donna? Oh well, it doesn't matter. Look who I am talking about. Poor stoneless creature. Another reason to think he is Jimmy's... Sigh.

WHAT???

NO! I do not do tricks! I am not a dog! Did you not read the title of my blog? Jeesh!
No, I will not roll over!
Shake What?
You play dead! ..... nervy so-and-so....

What have you there? A treat??

Did I mention that you are looking lovely in those grannie panties and your tie-dyed Grateful Dead Tee?
No?
I was remiss! You are a vision.

Did you have something in that hand you wanted to share?

xx

Huh? What? What do you think you are doing? Treats go IN the mouth not ON the nose.

What do you mean don't eat it Zoe?
What sort of torture game you playin' you crazy long haired freak!?!

OK What?
Do the trick?
OH!

I have no shame... I am a treat Langolier!

Bring Your Fan to Work Day!!!

Here is where it all happens. Yes, it is a bit chaotic, but hey, anyone can function in an organized environment. It takes real skill to bring home the bacon (mmmm.... bacon) in this hovel.

So first thing I do when I come to the office (besides suck down a cuppa then visit the ladies) is I check the sitch with my investments. So, log on, get to my yahoo front page, click on my portfolio...

Oh holy shit hit the fan! ACK! I cannot bear to look at the devastation! The agony!

What? Who is the Chicken Little you speak of? My name is Zoe! Huh? What? I most certainly am not an alarmist!

_________ Kisses Hugs__________Hugs Kisses___________

A bit of Zoe wisdom:
In times of trouble and turmoil, stick to what you know and what makes sense!

Sell CAT

Buy DOG

'nuf said. Now go home. Arf!

Grillmaster Zee

Zee The Philosopher

Sometimes you are the victor...

Zoebert The Blonde: Consider yourself conquered devil stick! Hazzah!

And at other times the spoils...

Galileo the Bone: Stand down Naive!

Vulcan Mind Meld

Or the Borg. Nobody is sure yet.

All's we know for sure is that there seems to be disagreement on whether poop and vomit are OK to eat and whether toilet paper is really necessary when there is a perfectly servicible tongue. Knowing the parts... the sum will probably not find agreement. Are they on the brink of a revolution? Stay tuned...

Ignore the Zee Behind the Curtain!

Hi it is me. Barely able to type. I am dehydrated and weak from pissing and barfing myself. I must MUST go on a diet. I found out in a very untimely moment, that I am too snausage fat to jam myself under the Seally Posturepedic. Too fatty tuna to snuggle under the living room sofa table. Too Zeebert Von Puerco to make a clean getaway from the deck thru the slit in the screen door. BUT just Hogwarts enough to take that mother down without any perceived effort. Fireworks = a burst of adrenaline from a heretofore untapped riches of said substance. Into the tub I went. Safe harbor. It is steel and shrouded by a thick pink curtain. How I love pink! The color of a Hostess Snowball, but also of a Pink Lady... hmmm ick. I digress.

Remember when I said last night that a nervous Zee was not to be trifled with? Do I lie? Do I fool around? Not on the Effing Fourth! So I told you I flew into the safe harbor of the tub when the fireworks got rolling. I was fine. Only troubled by uncontrolled shiveriness and an occasional convulsion and upchuckery of a milk bone and then finally the burger chunk I managed to swipe before beating paws off the deck. I was lying down, minding my own biz, trying to decide whether it was safe to re-eat the burger when who comes into the bathroom after I EXPLICITLY told her to stay the eff out?

You guessed it.

Here is the pic she snapped of me giving her shit for invading my hideyhole. She carries that damn camera wherever she goes. She tried to hug me. I told her to take that hug and shove it!!



PS - I shall close by noting that Man is heading out on the deck to shoot off some expired flairs. We all know how that will go. This after he spent the evening calling the town a bunch of Olympic hillbillies.

Woman is singing "Smoke on the Water". I see this ending badly.

Meet Auntie Gracie

Meet Auntie Gracie. She is a Boxerette. She is bipolar. One minute the bitch is pulling out the fistacuffs, the next she is licking my nether regions. I cannot make heads or tails of it.

I do love Auntie Gracie though. She is friendly (if not a little talkative) and she takes no shit. My kind of gal.

Here is an excerpt from my interview with Auntie G:
Z: Tell me Auntie, what are your favorite things?
AG: Obviously (duh you dumb retriever) acting like Mike Tyson, humpsuckling my bunny, freshly squeezed, rockhounding and anything Jet Lee. In that order.
Z: And your dislikes?
AG: Being ignored... Hey! Wake up!! That's better. Next time it is your ear doofus. Where was I? Oh yeah, manners class (who needs it?!), cheap rum, inverted stud collars (I am a giver, not a receiver), MSG (slows me down and moves me up a weight class), being called Cookie. In no particular order.
Z: And movies?
AG: Well of course I love "Sybil", "The Three Faces of Eve", "Silence of the Lambs"... and anything Jet Lee. I hate tear jerkers... that's my job!
Z: What is Auntie's Life's Dream?
AG: Long term, I would have to say becoming the Ultimate Fighting Champion! Near term, trippin' with my sweet soul sister Naomi Campbell. Call me bitch!
Z: What is life's greatest mystery.
AG: Peter Cook cheating on Christy Brinkley or men's fascination with something they call "Cathouses". Cats? Who needsum?

Eff the Fourth!

I may or may not post a photo with this. What sorta kook takes a pic of themselves scared witless, wallowing in their own pee crying for their mama? Listen I am no wimp... ok I am no big wimp... ok I am not a total wimp but I completely lose it (and by it I mean all nerve, ability to stand without quivering, the ability not to scream out loud at the slightest sound and the really important ability to hold my bowels) during the long hard and bitter winter I shall only refer to as the week of the fourth. I also officially hate the Chinese for inventing fireworks, teenagers who light them and direct them my way and M&S for not drip feeding me tranquilizers and tequila shots from July 1-5. Here it is July 3 and I have spent the whole day in my crate venturing out only to pee out what I had not had scared out of me already. Woman was cooking something very delicious and meaty smelling tonight and I could not even go out and scavenge!

Tomorrow they will be cooking all sorts of meaty delicacies on the grill, but I will not be doing any raindances around the menfolk. I will be hiding out in the downstairs tub. If anyone dares to come in the bathroom for a pee I am going to snarl and maybe bite them.

If I survive the night, I will post how things went.

Eff the Fourth.

Big Pine Campground Lassen Volcano NP

If you have to get a scrub I can think of worse places to air dry. A cold beer, a big juicy burger flaming on the grill, a pig ear appetizer and some of the prettiest scenery to take in.

Life's good my friend.

You Should See The Other Guy!

Wadda ya mean I needs a bath?

Lassen !!!!!! Volcano !!!! National Park

What do you get when you combine 113 degree temperatures...


Record snowfall...
and a... dogged... determination to retrieve a stick from a swollen creek?

Yep! You get the Big Zee braving the rapids
Now if I can only find it... It's under here somewhere....
That's it! BLAH!! Water up the snout!

Screw that stick.

salon Île d'oie

Lovely setting by the Colorado River. But my stylist got a little too...

Gulp... Personal. My tip reflected his rather aggressive search for burrs and tangles.

What indignities I endure to maintain my good looks! Harumph!!!

ZZZZZZZZZEEEEEEEEEEE...

Someone slipped me a mickey.

ROAD TRIP!!!!

Yes. That was a scream. No. Not out of joy or ecstasy one feels when say, a long lost bone is liberated from underneath the daisies or a discovery that one's home has been magically constructed from Milk Bone dog biscuits.

It was terror.

I should have known what with all the bustling about and the snotty way they fobbed me out onto the deck all day "go get some sun Zoe" "Go eat the potted plants and dig up the new herbs Zoe" Hmmm... that last one may have been of my own creation.

I digress.

So tonight, after vittlage and a suspiciously pleasant trot around the block I was informed that I would be packed in with the pots and blankets for a trip to the Southwest to pick up someone named Casita. Don't think it did not cross my mind to dash off an emergency email to INS. It turns out she is an it. Yet another thing to wheel me around in. Telling me that it would protect me from raccoons attacking me at night while at camp did soften the blow.

I decided to try to negotiate my staying home to hold down the fort. Why... I could limit my play to the office, seek entertainment via the cartoon network (and not by eating the ultrasuede couch or chewing thru speaker wire) and promise to not only poop in the toilet, but also flush and saniwipe after each... visit. Which is a damn site better than they do. Naturally their standard parry of "we'll see". I retreat to my hopeful position of not being able to fit in the back of the auto. Zoe or the smokey joe? Say Zoe... that idea of you staying in the office... Sigh. If they sound desperate I am going to ask for a keg and a bag of pretzles. They may be able to take down W, but I can swallow a shank bone whole. No prob. Plus I love the salt.

I will keep you posted.

Bis Repetita Placent

Eat - Barf - Eat... or as the Chinese say "Double Happiness".

Anyone know what this delicacy is? A nuzzle and a lick if you guess correctly!

What the??????

Hey! Prop guy! Hands off the goods!

How many times in my life will I have to repeat that phrase to men? So damn greedy for my sweet stuff!

Bon Appetit!!!

Hi, It is me again. Here in the kitchen baking cookies for Stephanie… the Postlady! Yes. I know. Hard to believe. But as the banner sez… do not call me a dog. I actually adore her. She does not try to bribe me with biscuits. Instead she offers pets and as you all know, I am an unabashed whore for a good stroking of my fur... A good rub on the knob.

What? That offends you? Tsk. It is your mind that is dirty and shameful. I prescribe 5 hell mary’s. Arf!

My First Taste of Snow!

What the hell is this?
Note to Eric: She DO lie!!

If you wanna get down, down on the ground; cocaine…

OK first, cocaine is cold, tastes like pee and if you drop your Nylabone in it… good luck finding it mister. And I huffed plenty of this stuff straight up my snout and NOTHING except a massive headache.

I did enjoy playing in it though. I slipped and slided all around while chasing my ball and every time I slid I uncovered something strangely familiar below it. First time it was something like crunchy grass (another big drug disappointment), then I spotted a dark spot and ran to check it out. It was my pee. Apparently if you pee in cocaine it turns your pee black. I suspect it was something I ate. It smelled like asparagus.

I digress. Anyway, I have never been so happy as I was playing in the cocaine. I guess I will have to watch Scarface now that I can relate.

********* Newsflash **********

M tells me that the cocaine was actually something called snow… which sounds eerily like “No” which makes it all of a sudden a little less appealing.

Just say “Snow” to snow.

Alright, pass the warm milk, ginger cookies and my blankey. I am an indoor girl. The next time someone wants to expose me to snow it better be on top of a cone.