Barksters

As you may already know, I am always pleased when packages arrive with my name on them.  You want an opinion?  YOU GOT IT

Today a box of treats arrived from the fine folks at Barksters.  But these weren't treats like anything I've ever seen before - they're "krisps", mama says that they have the texture of Munchos (all of the gourmet humans with fine, exotic taste will understand this).  They're all-natural, wheat-free, glute-free, low in fat (take note pups who have been told they need to shed some poundage - get your humans to buy these!), and made in the good ol' US of A.

I got a brown rice and chicken package and a sweet potato and beef one.  I made my choice of which to try first...

And then tried to open the damn thing myself.

If the beef one won't open, try the chicken one, I thought to myself as I used my mighty paws to destroy the packaging.

So here is a closeup of the texture - they're light and crispy as opposed to the crunch of a traditional dog biscuit.  Different, indeed.  This is the very last thing that this particular Barkster will ever see...

They come in a plain inside bag that doesn't look that interesting...

Until you get your whole nose inside.  Then... INTERESTING

The bag is well-sized for the mighty Airedale nose.  Some of you with smaller schnozolas may encounter more difficulty getting into the bag.  For you I suggest grabbing it, and shaking violently from side to side - a Barkster snowstorm!

At first I wasn't sure - that texture sure was something I had never experienced before - but after a few tries I was convinced.  Thanks Barksters!

Love,

Bogart

Here, Tiger Tiger Tiger

A spiffy tiger print new treat bag, that is!  And yes, I needed one.  See the photo below as proof:

See the crappy plastic baggie on the left?   That's what mama usually uses to carry around my treats on our daily walkies.  I always hear about plastic not degrading, but can attest to the fact that when inside mama's hip bag and carried (and refilled, naturally) at least twice a day that the plastic does indeed slowly disappear.  Which is good - scientific in a definitely un-scientific-kind-of-way - but which necessitated our finding a new treat bag.  Mama got this one on Etsy - it's apparently supposed to be for baby treats (baby humans eat duck jerky and liver crackers?  who knew?) - so it's made with all sorts of nice materials that won't poison me.  Which I suppose is just fine.  Most important for me is that it's about the same size, so mama cannot skimp on the cookies.  And she likes the kitty print, so I guess we're all happy.

Love,

Bogart

Today, I Am Six

Today I am a fuzzy man of 6.  And being that I am a fine, mature Airedale I require a gift which befits my status.

That will do.

NOM NOM NOM

I don't get these very often - my silly vegetarian mama apparently has difficulty buying them (she never remembers which kind of bones they are, where they are located in the ShopRite, yada yada yada) - but I'm happy she remembered to buy me one for my birthday.

Marrow bones are delicious - but not the easiest thing in the world to eat.  By design?  Perhaps.  But an advanced canine mind such as mine will figure out a way.

I have found, through trial and error, that this is the preferred position for maximum bone-crunching goodness.  Well, this position does hold you down, and it lasts until you've got to get your mighty paws around the bone to keep it from launching across the floor.

Damn, this is good.

I know I shouldn't talk with my mouth full but who could resist?  Oh wait... we're going to go for a midday walkie?  But it's raining - hard - outside.  Hell yeah I wanna go - saddle me up, mama!

Drowned rat hairdo - check.  Slightly glazed over look in eyes from walking through monsoon - check.  Happiness to be both indoors and in Just Dogs Gourmet - priceless.

Oh, the agony of choice.

I'll take one of those, and one of those, and two of those...

I could just stay here mama, you know, to do some quality control, make sure that everything is being prepared just right...

I did well.  Being six is a very good thing.  I got one cookie for each year I've been here with mama - two little ones count as one! A burger, a squirrel, a black cat, a penguin, two hearts, and two carob cups.

I won't eat them all - I'd like to avoid this embarrassing fiasco again (not to mention that I don't have my Airedale buddies close by to, uh, "help" me out).  Some for today, some for tomorrow.

Love,

Bogart

What Am I, Chopped Liver?

I am a BIG fan of freeze dried liver.  Cannot explain it, but it's fantastic.  And it's one of the only ways that mama can stand to feed me (well, us, because the cats love it too!) liver.

Usually we buy the beef-liver-in-a-bucket, but this time at the store mama found chicken-liver-in-a-bucket, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.  And I can report that it is just as tasty, if not more so, than my beloved beef liver.

There's just one thing.  The chicken liver is in the same kind of bucket as the beef liver - the main difference is that the trusty beef liver is in a blue-ish bucket and the chicken is in a yellow-ish bucket.  But when you turn around the yellow-ish chicken liver bucket...

Yep, it says 100% beef liver.  But it's definitely chicken liver inside, the beef liver looks and smells different.  Someone in the graphic design department may need a vacation!

Love,

Bogart

March of the Penguins... INTO MY BELLY

Yes mama, this was a lovely long mid-day walkie we had today.  Yes mama, I have worked up an appetite.  Yes mama, I want to stop at the Just Dogs Gourmet doggie bakery.

I'm always fooled by the dog statue out front.  Always.

Looks like a lovin' themed window for Valentine's Day.  Dog lovin, that is!

I know what I'm lovin'... A penguin cookie.  Appropriate for how darned cold it's been here in Philadelphia.

So now I present to you a new "the last thing a cookie sees" series:  March of the Penguins INTO MY BELLY

Head first, as always!

NOM NOM NOM

Love,

Bogart

Tales of Center City

I have a cunning plan. Follow the stump.

I took mama on a little detour after I'd done my afternoon "business" in Rittenhouse Square park. She thinks I forget these things, but I know EXACTLY where every dog store is in town. In EVERY neighborhood that we've explored. And today I want a cookie.

So it's off to Just Dogs Gourmet. Where I can peruse that bakery case and choose my own snack. Oh, the agony of choice.

And look - they've got a swanky new window display since the last time I was here.

It says, "Officer, it was the raccoon, I swear it!" (yeah, those raccoons are shifty).

And this time there was a kitty inside, who was incredibly cool and we actually got to sniff each other a bit.

I'm sure he was just watching me from inside after I'd left to be sure that mama was giving me my tasty treat right away. Yeah, that must be it.

Actually we had to walk for a little bit to find a place to sit down and chomp. But of course, first we managed to walk past this and a photograph had to be taken to commemorate the occasion (notice my expression of happiness - I'm actually sticking my tongue out at mama in annoyance, but she thinks it's cute)...

Ok, one more, this time with feeling...

Now bust out that squirrel. Cookie squirrel, that is.

Oh great and powerful squirrel cookie, I am thankful for your sacrifice into my belly, and happy that you will provide me with some energy to get through the rest of this crazy walkie on such a hot day.

A-chomp!

I am a squirrel man. I chase 'em, and in cookie form, I eat 'em. But mama saw this one and she couldn't help herself, she had to buy it for me (yeah, something isn't completely "right" with her, but lets humor her, ok?)...

And as we all know, the proper technique for eating any tasty morsel that has the shape of any animal or human is to bite the head off first. I intend to honor this fine tradition.

Goodbye Head

Almost forgot the rest of the tasty body. Gimme that.

It was really, really hot today - Indian Summer, they call it. It's just plain hot. Hot on the toes, hot under the fuzz. So a quick romp over to Love Park to sit by the fountain and let the wind and the spray do it's work.

No way I'm jumping in - not that I'm allowed to anyway - I'll just watch it from here. Purty.

Love,

Bogart