Thursday, December 18, 2008

A Visitation by the Fabled Abominable Snowkerry!

And thus it began--with gently falling snow the evening before...


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"Have you seen him?" asked Mr. Squirrel?






















Wendy the Woodpecker came to the window and asked the very same question.


















Sephie and Bailey embarked upon a reconnaissance mission...


















It was at that point that I, Buster the Wonder Dog, arrived! I earnestly declared my intention to save the day, although I wasn't quite certain what that meant, or whom I was saving the day from.
























Miss Persephone was the one to tell me: the Abominable Snowkerry has come! Mothers, guard your children! Lock and load! L'État en danger! Crise de la guerre!



















Sephie was angry that some thing had intruded into her back yard.

I went to investigate--and there he was!




















Lurking malevolently on the back deck, the Abominable Snowkerry had captured my prize Wilsons and was holding them hostage!

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With Mom's help, I bravely confronted the creature. After a bit, he seemed less menacing...



















In fact, I was able to take advantage of a photo-op. Maybe they'll run this in the New York Times: "Local Terrier Captures Evil Snow Creature"



















Come to think of it, there's nothing like a snow-cone shaped like a big Kerry Blue!

Okay--there goes the neighborhood...Bailey and Persephone have arrived on the scene. It's going to get noisy!


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Mr. Squirrel contemplates the general confusion...























It's plainly time to play a round of BusterBall-in-the-Snow! It's amazing how quickly a yellow tennis ball will disappear from view...

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By nightfall, the Abominable Snowkerry is an abominable mess!



















Didn't this happen to the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz?

I suppose that my peeing on the monster didn't help much...

Miss Persephone has retired to her boudoir...



















It's time to get a good night's sleep and prepare for tomorrow's adventure:

The Revenge of the Abominable Snow-Gerbil.


















Sweet dreams,

theBuster


Saturday, December 13, 2008

A Horrifying Premonition--by Buster

Dear friends:

I just had a most disturbing dream.

A creature more fierce, more vile than the legendary Killer Rabbit of the Holy Grail haunts my sleep. It will come soon. I know it. Unspeakable horror!

If we Kerry Blues were gifted with the ability to relate in pictures what its merciless countenance looks like...well, luckily, we cannot...




















But the giant, Abominable Snow Kerry will come soon; I know it!

And when it does, Mom will relate the ugly tale...

Be very afraid,

theBuster

Saturday, November 29, 2008

So the hudad went shopping....again....SKUNK!!!! run!!


Well gather around I, theBUSTER, am here to tell yet another story ... this is about a SKUNK!!! run run... <--- Oh I'm sorry I should probably not run at this point, considering I'm telling a story.


So SKUNK!! as in Pepe le P.U. Does seem to have quite a history. You can't say "SKUNK!!", without thinking STINK... But maybe we can change your mind -- just a little. We usually have some fun with these subjects, so here we go again folks, SKUNKS!! are fun!



The hudad went to the neighborhood Agway store in search for....uh.... gee I don't know exactly what he was shopping for, but he did bring back the SKUNK!! pictured below. He does find some of the more strange items in any store he goes in. You could say he has a knack for such things.


You know, this little guy seems to have a slight imperfection....like he's empty! the SKUNK
is limp...and empty and well... floppy and soft and has SQUEAKERS.



...and he stares at you. I feel the need to shake him, and shake him, and gee squeak the silly thing, and shake him some more.......... Did I mention I want to shake him?


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Well, it seems that I'm not the only one that wants to shake the tar out of the SKUNK!!
Ms. Blue has stolen the SKUNK!!
She is not even trying to share!
I thought moms were supposed to share with their offspring,
NOT!
At least we got to use our lungs....turn your speakers up and enjoy!

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WhOOOOoooooo00000000 <----------------------------that's Ms.Blue dragging the SKUNK!! around like a limp blankie.

She is not sharing ....she is hogging the SKUNK!!
hey hey.. Ms. Blue can I play with my SKUNK!! ?


OOPSY....I have made an incision on the tail....that squeaker was reeeeeeally bothering my eardrums, so I decided to remove it -- with my super-duper-huge-canine tooth, I have made a
nice clean cut in the lower portion of the SKUNK!! tail. Of course I was being careful not to get sprayed --- uh....do you suppose fake SKUNKS can spray? Hope not.


Well folks, I don't think the SKUNK!! will be able to spray again...if he ever could. I, theBUSTER, have taken it upon myself to take care of the
little- squeaker-thingy in the tail. Well he can't squeak or spray any more.
the tooth, unfortunately, went through the squeaker! HAH!! ah well
gotta go take a nap and self actualize in 3-d!

theBUSTER signing off ZZZZzzzzzzzZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Bluedog Quidditch--or, Hockey à Grande Vitesse



Friends and fellow Wizards:


With Autumn upon us here in the very New England wherein the Reverend Cotton Mather declared that the Dark One walks among us, I feel energized to be surrounded by so many talented witches, demons, and part-time residents of the Underworld. Persephone tells me that the place is overrated, but I'm excited.


So I have enrolled in the DogWart School of Wizardry and joined the BlueDog Quidditch team! Mom has been reading the entire Harry Potter series to me, and I'm genuinely inspired. I'll bet my moves are far better than that myopic little guy who can't even control his broom!




BlueDog Quidditch is a fearsome game. It is played, gladiatorial-style, with a single opponent who has eliminated all competition prior to this match. The stakes are high, and the rules of the game state that no mercy shall be shown.



My opponent is Bailey Blue, who has never lost a Quidditch competition.



The Golden Snitch has been cast. Watch:



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Dang! She's good!



I'll outwit the little witch, yet...



It's time to break out my Secret Moves...






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Okay, I surrender!



Did you see her footwork? What a master!







Old Hades just can't get enough of BlueDog Quidditch. He always looks grimmer than he is. I think it's a flatulence thing...




Anyway, it's your host, Buster the Wonder Dog, Wizard-in-Training, and Second-Place BlueDog Quidditch Wannabe, signing off for tonight.


Time for my nap!



Cheers,


theBuster


Sunday, November 2, 2008

The Return of the Evil Leaf-Dragon, and my Valiant Defense of my Loved Ones--by Buster the Wonder Dog

As Autumn is upon us....I, theBUSTER, have decided to tell you a tale! Gather 'round, this tale is of the Slayer of.......

Well, I am getting ahead of myself. Yes, yes... the tale, or was it a tail? Oh yeah-- a tale--yup, yup--a tall tale ---------------------------------------------------------->



In a land far away (like out back on the
tor), there were many odd monsters running through our yard...I mean over the tor. It was a dark and stormy night....uh, I think I stole that--but it was dark, forget the storm, it was just sort of gray out there.



The Evil Leaf-Dragon returned to the land of Kerrys looking for what Leaf-Dragons look for, uh.....leaves? I think I got that right-- yup, yup, leaves. I jumped on my noble steed <--- that means my horse, and I galloped toward the Leaf-Dragon at full speed....tiddy dump, tiddy dump, tiddy dump...ah,well, lose the steed.....I run faster without him.


I jumped off my steed <-----my horse, and there I stood--a gallant Kerry Blue Knight of the Realm, in the purest silver armour, mined in our own silver mines, located <--- I guess that's not pertinent to the story...

OK...I jumped off the steed, stood up, and there I was, Buster the Pure, at your service!!



The following video was taken while I was very busy slaying. It will show how I jumped on the dragon and, using my HUGE punishing jaws (you know--the ones with the great big pearly whites in them -- the ones I catch all those Wilsons with???)--well, I charged at the dragon over and over until I had it groveling at my feet--I mean, paws. I had the Leaf-Dragon in a most compromising situation...uh, for him, not me. I was in control of the Leaf-Dragon! If only I had opposable thumbs, this wouldn't be so aggravating to me.


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HAH! That will teach that Leaf-Dragon not to bother MY leaves again.....little puffer didn't know what hit him!



Well now, I have retired to my chambers with my man at arms, me and "Mycat" have some resting to do so we can take care other Leaf-Dragons that wander into our domain. We will throttle any others that try -- let me at 'em, I'm ready for ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz




G'night all, It's been a very busy day.

theBUSTER aka, BUSTER the Pure

Sunday, October 26, 2008

My Town, by Buster

Dear friends,

Mom and Persephone have snuck off to Florida to bask in the sun, enjoy the ocean, and, I hope, get eaten alive by mosquitoes.

I'm bored. Not just "bored," but "cosmically bored."



So, what's a male terrier to do? The only honorable thing--steal the car and go for a ride!

Behind the wheel of Dad's PT Cruiser, I can feel the raw power of my masculine countenance. I set off for the most exotic destination I can think of. My home town.


Let's take a quick tour! Now, one must understand that NOTHING ever happens here. Well, actually, once--back in 1776--a woodchuck declared its independence from the Crown, and promptly returned to its burrow and went to sleep. But basically, Cheshire is a quiet lump of dark matter in the Universe.



Most of the houses were built around the end of the last Ice Age and look like this.

Historically known as "The Bedding Plant Capital of Connecticut," (feel the adrenaline!) our town has found a new industry in oldness.

It's almost Halloween, and the Pumpkin Merchants are making trillions in squash derivatives and gourd-swap defaults.


It's amazing how an investment can grow...

This is Cheshire's version of Wall Street.



The Quinnipiac River meanders through town with the force of a supernova. Quinnipiac means "Long-Water-Country" in the aborginal Algonquin dialect. Significantly, the river's origin is a place called Deadwood Swamp.


Once, there was a watch factory here. But people became tired of knowing what time it was.


This is Cheshire Academy. It was founded many years ago by Anglicans in the hope that Cheshire would become more like its namesake across the pond. That was the trouble--it already was. Now Cheshire Academy draws students from all over the world. They walk across the street, go shopping, meet the natives and smile, sadly.


All Congregational Churches around here are called the "First Congregational Church." I've never encountered a "Second Congregational Church."

Maybe Cotton and Increase Mather gave sermons condemning witchcraft here. If so, maybe the witches won, because there isn't much fire-and-brimstone oratory going on.



This is our high school. It has a good football team, an awesome marching band, and the coldest bleachers in the galaxy.



Cheshire Nursery is a pretty good place to buy perennials, but their assortment of gourmet birdseeds warrants four stars in the Michelin Guide.


I don't like this place. Let's keep going!



Now that's better! Sweet Claude's Ice Cream Parlor! It's October 26th, and a tropical airmass brought warm rain followed by a perfect sunny day. I think I'll stop and join those folks on the lawn. I hope they have my favorite Chipmunk Entrail flavor.

Did I tell you that Cheshire was invaded by aliens, who left their young incubating in giant protoplasmic ova? When they hatch, we're all going to be in big trouble!

Here's Cheshire Park. It's where four-legged geniuses like me run and pirouette and catch frisbees and eat squirrels. Oh, the bliss!

Giant Mutant Cat! Must leap out window, catch him, and save humanity!


There aren't many places in this town that are not in the shadow of my little, private mountain. It's 200 million years old and was formed by an ancient volcano back in the days when Connecticut connected to Africa. I'm still looking for zebras.


Finally--I'm back in my front yard.


Where Norbert the Nuthatch holds court.



And Bailey, the whirling Dervish greats her long-lost adventurer at the gate.


The back looks cozy--so many leaves, all unautographed!


It's been a long day! I hope you don't mind...

Nap Time.

Cheers,

theBuster