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French Bulldogs Are Like A Box of Chocolates…

Well, so much for my plans this weekend to grind up and freeze a great big bucket of green lamb tripe. Lamb tripe, by the way, is a really fancy way of saying “Stinky, unprocessed lamb stomach”, and “green” is code for “complete with partially digested stomach contents”. And yes, it smells just about the way it sounds – possibly worse.

Sean, who I fondly refer to as ‘garbage guts’ for his cast iron stomach and willingness to eat almost anything, gagged and retched when I cheerfully told him that the big, reeking bucket of guts was more or less just what he’d eaten when he taste tested Sailor’s canned green tripe. The real retching happened when I asked him if he’d be tasting this batch, too. I think that can be taken as a ‘no’.

At any rate, we never did get the lamb stomachs ground up, because Bunny decided to surprise us by going into labor three days early.

In spite of my panic attacks about her early labor, she managed to deliver five adorable babies, and after an initial twelve hours of telling me “those things aren’t mine – you look after them’, she’s back in the swing of being a supermom. She’s such a good girl – keeps her babies tucked underneath her, almost entirely hidden away, and cleans them at the first sign of squeaking.

I had assumed Bunny and Luther might produce brindles, possibly a brindle pied. What I wasn’t expecting was this little beauty –

French Bulldog colors – who the heck knows. You can’t even begin to guess, at least not most of the time. You just have to sit back and wait for them to get here.

Here’s the rest of the photos, down below. All of the images will be in one great big collection, which you’ll find here.

Oh, and this litter’s names? Neil Gaiman book titles.

A) because I love Neil Gaiman
B) because I love the name ‘Coraline’
C) because I just got my copy of “The Graveyard Book“, and it’s so good I’m already checking his site for news of sequels.

Penny is Missing, and Dexter is a Daddy

Penny is missing from the area of High Park, Toronto

Penny is missing from the area of High Park, Toronto

How’s the weather where you are?

The other morning, my weather geek boyfriend came bounding back into bed to shake me awake and ask me “Guess how cold it is outside?”. I’m very much like my dogs, and averse to emerging from the warm cocoon of duvets I like to build for myself, so stuck my head under the covers and ignored him, in hopes he’d go away. No luck.

“Hey, psst – seriously, guess how cold it is?”

Sensing defeat, I gave in and asked how cold it was. The answer? A bone chilling -31 celsius (that’s minus -23.8, Fahrenheit).

Someplace out in this cold is Penny, a lost Hurrican Katrina survivor who also lived through Hurricane Gustav and Hurricane Ike. Penny is missing, and her Toronto family needs your help.

Visit the One Bark at a Time Blog to find out more, and to help bring Penny home.

My Boy is growing up…

It seems like only yesterday that Dexter was our tiny little baby boy. I was just looking through some of his photos on Flickr, and had decided that this one is probably my favorite:

Now, he’s got his first CERF clearance, his CHIC health clearances are pending, his show career is about to take off, and he’s sired his very first two litters, with Sue Simon’s girls Babs and Juicy up in Traverse City. Babs had two baby brindles – one boy, and one girl, and Juicy has 1 cream boy, a brindle pied boy, and a very lite cream boy (who apparently has pink ears).

If they turn out half as cute as their Dad is, they’ll be very cute indeed.

Babs pups are here:

http://flickr.com/photos/frenchbulldogs/sets/72157612687854790/show/

And Juicy’s pups are here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/frenchbulldogs/sets/72157612747539593/

Here’s a pic of Dexter’s adorable brindle daughter –

Hey there, Butters!

I checked in with Butters (re christened Bella, a fact which I studiously ignore. Co owner Paula can feel free to call her Bella, but she’s still Butters to me!) yesterday, where I found her to be growing into a lovely – and bratty – little girl. She and Delilah share a remarkably similar temperament. Both prefer to be pretty much left the hell alone, until they’re worn out and looking for a soft lap to crash on. Until then, don’t bother trying to pet them, as they have places to go and things to chew.

Sharing a house with a menagerie of Bullmastiffs and Abyssinian cats (and one really sweet pet Bulldog) has enhanced Butters’ already well rounded sense of confidence. She now knows for a fact that, no matter how big the other dog is, she’s still the boss of them.

Here’s a video clip of Butters being a goof and chasing a ball, and a small flash gallery of photos.

Dear Tessa: Should we get our dogs a baby?

Tessa always does so enjoy receiving letters from her readers, and this week’s correspondence is particularly timely, what with Christmas on the way.

Charmaine writes:

Dear Tessa:

My husband has recently been ‘elected’ Dictator for Life of a small and somewhat obscure nation you’ve likely never heard of (our chief exports are shoes, brightly colored lizards and Cirque Du Soleil performers). Our two French Bulldogs, Coco and Gamin, have been remarkably patient throughout all of ‘Daddy and Mommy’s’ campaigning. They’ve put up with the reporters, the hotel rooms, the numerous botched assassination attempts, and the utterly dismal diner food. As a treat, we’ve been thinking of getting them a child of their very own, as a sort of early Christmas -slash- ‘Thanks for not biting the reporters (cough-Barney-cough)’ gift.

What do you think, Tessa? Do French Bulldogs and children do well together?

Thanks a bunch, and let us know if are ever in need of new shoes or a contortionist.

Tessa, of course, insisted on writing back immediately.

Dear Charmaine and Doggy Daddy Dictator:

Kudos on the ‘election’ results, first off. I assume you learned everything you know from CoCo and Gamin, n’est pas? You’ll all do swimmingly, I’m sure, especially with those two delightful aides de camp at your side (or behind your backs, pulling all the really important strings).

While I can sympathize with the urge to treat your two four legged pals to a lovely ‘thank you’ gift, I urge you to think twice before gifting them with a child. Children are a lot of responsibility, especially at this time of the year. I can’t count the times I’ve heard of one given impulsively at Christmas, only to be tossed aside days later, with the left over fruitcake and broken dreidels. Tempting as it might be when the little two legged darlings darlings get whiny during the cheese course, it’s simply not done to toss them into an out of the way crate or ex pen, either. No, you must give them your undivided attention, even when you’d rather be eating a left over turkey sandwich and doing the New York Times Crossword.

Another consideration is the issue of housebreaking. Children are really quite horrid about this, I’m afraid to say. Months after you bring one home and they’re still messing their beds – and forget about taking them in the car, because it’s guaranteed they’ll make a stinky almost as soon as you pull out of the driveway. Shocking as it might sound, I’ve heard of children who’ve taken literally two to three years to get the hang of anything approaching house breaking, and this is even after their ‘parents’ have hung bells off of the doors. I do sometimes wonder if it’s possible children are one of the thicker humanoids.

Have you thought about allergies and children? Many French Bulldogs are dreadfully allergic to kids and the near constant clouds of allergens they produce. Sticky fingers, plumes of talcum powder, crusted on cheerios and the wafting scent of Baby Shampoo can result in your Frenchies breaking out in hives or even the vapours. When this happens, it’s all too common for new parents to simply dump the baby at a handy Children’s Home or Shelter. Be sure you – and your Frenchies – are ready for the lifetime of commitment a child actually is.

Of course, some groups are quite vehement that children should not be adopted into ‘captivity’, including the outspoken group PETTA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Tiny Adults). Spokesperson Angry OldKook says:

“It’s a mistake to think of children as some sort of pet, or sub intelligent person, when really they’re just like you and I, only tinier. “Tiny Adults”, a term we prefer over the pejorative word ‘children’, don’t actually even want to live with dogs or families. Instead, PETTA is committed to seeing them set up in their very own, tiny sized apartments, where they’ll be given tiny jobs, tiny mortgages, and tiny briefcases. In this way, they can live out their lives proudly, free of interference from so called ‘adult’ supervision, and able to evolve their own social groups.”

When it was suggested that children (sorry, ‘Tiny Adults’) might not be able to fend for themselves, especially in a post sub prime world, Ms. OldKook said “If they fail, then it will have been on their own terms. We’d rather see them burn out than fade away.” Oldkook then cut our interview short, saying she had a ‘Raffi recording session to firebomb’, and muttering how his music ‘infantalises babies’.

So, there you have it, Charmaine – such a lot to consider! Really, I think that with everything you, your charming husband and CoCo and Gamin have going on, now isn’t the time to think of adding a child to your household. Instead, perhaps you should think of a cat? They are, after all, the only animals other than French Bulldogs even more comfortable establishing Dictatorships.

à bien tôt,

Tessa

Boring Blogs and Pup Tents

As I write this, I’m waiting for Jennifer to arrive to steal take home Rumble. He’s the first one to leave the nest (and since he’s smack in the middle of his ‘let’s chew everything in sight’ phase, Sean has been making noises about packing his little suitcase for three days now). Everybody else leaves on Saturday or Sunday.

It’s occurred to me that, while I have puppies on the ground, this blog becomes an awfully boring place to be. I turn into one of those God awful new mommies, constantly rambling on about how kyooooot their kids are, and waving photographs in the face of anyone who’ll stand still for more than ten seconds. Of course, the fact that my babies are kyooot might have something to do with that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I really need to learn how to balance ‘other’ stuff with rambling on and on and on about adorable puppies and their cute little noses.

That said, here come some more photos. Suck it up — you can always go read Salon or something.

Sean and I took his dad to Ikea the other day, and while I was there I snagged an awesome little toy for $6 – a nylon ‘pup’ tent. I think it’s actually meant for cats, but I could instantly see what fun the puppies would have with it. Little did I know that someone else in the house would instantly claim it for their own.

Tessa in the pup tent

Of course, the puppies weren’t about to let Grandma Tessa have the entire tent all to herself. They immediately came over to find out just what was so fascinating in there.

Come out, grandma!

Eventually, when three puppies were crammed in there with her, Tessa decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. After that, one of the pups decided that the interior of the tent would make a nice place to poop. It’s now been retired to the utility closet until I can figure out how to get the smell out of it.

Thor says

The rest of the photos are over on Flickr, as always.