Last weekend we found ourselves all in the same room for once watching Disney's new show Dog With A Blog.
This is not a review, but I will say this: Talking dog + over-used smartass kid actress we've seen in bit parts on other Disney shows finally got her own show. Enough said.
And while we were watching, our dog Bruce was just glaring at me, clearly pissed because his numerous requests to simply post on MY blog (as opposed to having his own like Stan the dog in the show does) fell on deaf ears. Now I feel bad.
Well fine Bruce, here you go. Post on my blog. Go for it.
So without further ado, here's our dog Bruce.
Hello My Mom's Readers,
It's me, Bruce. I've been begging for months to get a little gig on the blog, but Mom kept saying "no." I think she got an idea that we might get rich now that she saw that other dog with his own TV show. Too late dumbass.
Anyway, typing is really hard! Opposable thumbs are way underrated.
Now I finally get to introduce myself! I'm #6 in this family. Justin arrived after me. I'm lucky to even be here. JakeRyan scammed my mom three weeks after my predecessor died (he claimed he was going to help Uncle John move a dresser) and just showed up at the house with me. She was totally pissed, she said the F-word, but couldn't turn me away once we told her how the selfish bitch (and I'm not talking about a female dog) that had me first was getting rid of me. Mom and Dad guess it's because I have bad hips.
For 11 months of my life my name was Brewski, but when I moved here my mom thought that was crass to have a dog named after alcohol. Since she doesn't believe in changing dogs' names, she shortened it to Bruce. It's really awkward when we meet a human with the same name. There was one time when the pest control guy thought she was screaming at him and telling him to be quiet. Other than that it's only been him and the guy around the block. That guy's dog's name is Martini. I'm sure Martini doesn't run into humans with that name. Irony: that dog is named after alcohol. I'm also known as Brucie-poo and Brucie the Wonder Dog.
Most days I feel like a piece of furniture around here. This is possibly because I'm actually the size of a coffee table and I don't get a lot of attention. I'm not fat, I'm just big-boned even though the vet put me on special food for large-breed inactive dogs. I weigh the same as my mom, but if anybody ever called her "large-breed" they'd get hurt.
A typical day for me begins with a walk to the bus stop, a jaunt to the back yard for my first of three human-sized-craps, then I take a nap on the floor of Mom's office. I like to snore while she is on conference calls. Then I watch as she Swiffers up enough of my shedded hair to make a Yorkie.
Last week Mom slipped in my slobber on the tile and that's all I have to say about that. Who am I kidding? It was hilarious!
OK, I'm outta here. Stay tuned for the next installment of Bruce on the Blog (I just made that up) where I tell you how I got a hole under my tongue and it cost $1,000 at the vet to fix. Well that was pretty much that whole story...but Mom has video.