Happy Birthday Couper/Godiva's Mommy!!!

Today is Couper and Godiva's Mommy's birthday. Shown above are Couper and Godiva staring lovingly at their mommy. Making its Poop debut is the top inner half of Couper/Godiva's Mommy's right foot. It was the only photo we got legal authorization to run.

Thanks to the Freedom of Information Act, The Poop was able to obtain this transcript of Couper/Godiva's Mommy in fourth grade show and tell:

Teacher: Waaa Waa Waaa Wa Waaa Waaaaa
Couper/Godiva's Mommy: When I grow up, I want to have two dachshunds. Maybe someday, part of my right foot will be famous on the internet. The end.
Teacher: Waaa Waa Waaa Wa Waaa Waaaaa

Happy Birthday to Couper/Godiva's Mommy! We are proud to help make all of her dreams come true!

TV Review – Greatest American Dog

Occasionally here at the Poop, we review TV shows so that you have time to walk your little buddies. (Why aren’t we walking our little buddies? It is 110 degrees outside. They will be walked again in October.) Today’s show: Greatest American Dog which premiered Thursday on CBS (check local listings for the time and channel in your area).

The first big problem with Greatest American Dog is the title. Twelve dogs, along with their owners, were selected to compete in Greatest American Dog, and not one of them is my dog.

You: Yeah, you’re right, they didn’t select my dog.
Me: No, not your dog, my dog.
You: Yeah, my dog.
Me: No, when I said “my dog”, I meant my “my dog”, not your “my dog”.
You: No, you said “my dog”. My dog is “my dog”.
Me: “My dog” is my dog. I wrote it.
You: Well now I am reading it and “my dog” is my dog.
Me: My dog is Couper. He should be the Greatest American Dog!
You: No! My dog is (whoever) . He/she is the Greatest American Dog!!
Me: You’re a moron!
You: Yeah, you’re a moron!

And so it goes. The point is everybody thinks his/her dog is the Greatest American Dog. If you don’t, your dog should be taken away from you, you do not deserve one. (For the record, Godiva will qualify for Greatest American Dog when she stops pooping in the house and chewing my hand – don’t take her away!). The show really should be called Greatest American Dog of These Twelve or Second Greatest American Dog, After Yours (Mine).

The second big problem with Greatest American Dog is the dogs. Among the twelve contestants, there are no dachshunds. What, were they afraid that the most aggressive breed of dog would beat down the other dogs? If nothing else, that would make the show more interesting. And as we ramble on, you will see that this show needs all the interesting it can find.

The show starts with us meeting the contestants and their owners. I refuse to learn any of the names of the owners, names of the dogs, or the breeds of the dogs because I don’t care (this is the same attitude I took for the shows Friends, Starsky and Hutch, and Kate and Alley – why bother learning the characters names). We learn why each of the owners thinks that his or her dog is America’s Greatest. Most of them talked about bonding or being family or being a best friend or knowing a trick. Only one came to the table with the dog doing something heroic (saving his wife’s life). Worse yet, almost all of the dogs owned by women, and a couple owned by men, were dressed in people clothes. One woman (name definitely not to be learned) makes sure that her dog wears an outfit to match hers every day. We then see a shot of her at her sewing machine making that dog’s clothes for the day. Maybe what makes that dog special is that he is keeping his owner out of the psychiatric ward. At the very least the dog is keeping her off the streets and in the sewing room.

The dogs and the owners arrive in the classic one-by-one reality show style at the K-9 mansion where they will be staying together during the competition. The mansion is the most impressive part of the show. First off it is huge. It makes the old Clampett mansion on the Beverly Hillbillies look like it belongs in East LA (the Compton Clampetts???). It has a giant yard where the bushes are all cut to look like dogs or fire hydrants. The inside is filled with dog furniture and people furniture that looks like dog furniture (a dog bone coffee table). As I told Couper/Godiva’s Mommy that someday we should have a house like that, the excitement of dreaming of a mansion like that, and the fear that I would actually have it decorated that way left her speechless.

The first competition for Greatest American Dog was musical chairs. Same game you played at your 5th birthday party, but the dogs were ushered along by their owners and had to sit on a platform. You could tell that even the producers found this boring when after the second round they started removing two platforms each time. I am looking forward to next week, where maybe the dogs will play Duck Duck Goose. This week’s winner (dog and owner unknown) got to stay in the Doggie Suite, which is a giant room even more obnoxiously dog themed. He also got to pick someone (dog and owner unknown) to stay in the Dog House (big dog house with sleeping bags) out in the yard.

In the elimination competition the dogs/owners formed groups of four to put on a doggie/human talent show. I won’t even attempt to describe the shows. My time would be better spent looking up a more powerful word for god-awful. Unfortunately, I am too lazy to do that, so god-awful it shall be.

The talent show was judged by three people who I don’t know and I don’t care to remember. As decreed by the Treaty of Paris at the end of the American Revolution, one of the judges was British. I believe the treaty, signed in 1783, looked like this:

Article 1: His Brittanic Majesty acknowledges the said United States, viz., New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, to be free sovereign and independent states, that he treats with them as such, and for himself, his heirs, and successors, relinquishes all claims to the government, propriety, and territorial rights of the same and every part thereof.

Articles 2-10: Blah, blah, blah (paraphrasing)

Article 11: In all future United States national competitions, at least one of the three judges must be a British subject. Said judge(s) will be deemed the “nasty judge(s)” and shall have jurisdiction to demean and humiliate the American competitors regardless of any current or future rule of law.

I am not saying that the British judge on Greatest American Dog was any Simon, hell, I refuse to even remember her name, but there was a lot to criticize anyhow. By the way, does it bother anybody else that America’s Got Talent has two British judges (or that the third is Hasslehoff?). Is this some kind of loophole in the Treaty of Paris that is keeping “America’s greatest talent competition” tied to British interests?

Back to Greatest American Dog, it turns out that the judges have the power to vote off one contestant. This may have been the most disappointing part of the show for me. I was really hoping that we, the American people would get to choose the Greatest American Dog. Isn’t that what this country was founded on? Do I have to quote the Constitution now? Besides, I was hoping for a way that I could write-in (call-in???) our dog, Couper, and make this competition live-up to its name. I guess that isn’t going to happen. The dream is over. The bad guys and dogs win. See if I vote for anything the rest of the year. Anyhow, the anonymous judges voted off the anonymous owner (well deserved) and his anonymous dog (victim of circumstance - I think they actually voted off the owner). The losers took a lap around the stage and left our lives forever.

All of which brings us to two crucial questions:

Could our dog (our “our dog” – Couper) actually win Greatest American Dog? Probably not. There is no way he would have made it through the first round of musical chairs. He would have had no interest in sitting on a platform when there were other dogs and people to bark at. And neither of us would have been good at the talent show, unless we could integrate him wildly knocking a soccer ball around (maybe that would impress the British judge?). In the end though, we know he is the Greatest American Dog. Why? It says so, right here on the internet.

Will we watch? Probably. We do like dogs and it has the added benefit of us thinking (knowing) our dogs (not your dogs) are better than those dogs. Hopefully though the producers will work the eliminations like they did the musical chairs and start getting rid of multiple dogs at a time. I am not sure I can take 10 more weeks of this.


On a much more positive note, and because this post is nowhere near long enough, there is a show that is fun for dog owners. It is called The Baby Borrowers (Wednesday, NBC – check local listings). The premise is great. They take teen couples who are thinking about having babies, move them into houses on a cul-de-sac, and give them babies. Not sacks of flour posing as babies. Actual human babies.

Now, the producers of this show go to great lengths to keep the show from crossing that fine line from edutainment to child abuse. The babies’ parents are allowed to monitor everything from another house and there is an in-house nanny who can act in case of emergencies – say if the teens put the baby in the dryer or something. However, as a new puppy owners, we wonder why they would go through the troubles and potential lawsuits when they could just go to the pound and get the teen couples a puppy – better yet, a dachshund puppy. Want the teens to experience screaming in the middle of the night? Check. Peeing and pooping anytime anyplace? Check. Teething? Check. Running around with no particular place to go? Check. Trying to get it to eat? Check.

I guess it is more powerful to show the teens with an actual baby and NBC has the power and money to make all parties “disappear” if a disaster happens (evidence? When’s the last time you saw Martha Stewart?). However, if an institution with a little less money, say, a high school, wanted to prove to potential parents that babies are difficult, they could go the puppy route. Last I checked, puppies poop and scream more than bags of flour.

The best part about the Baby Borrowers for us is that Godiva had her best night in the house when we watched the show. We teamed up to watch her every move and kept her out of mischief. When she started sniffing, we scooped her up and hustled her outside to go potty. We made sure she did not torment Couper (or vice versa) too much. It was as if we were being challenged by the teens on the show and we made sure to outdo them. On the other hand, when we watched Greatest American Dog, Godiva peed twice in the house. Maybe she didn’t like not being in the competition either.

That’s Right, We Bad!

Hey, you, walking down the street. See this dachshund over here? His name is Couper. You best stay away from him, ‘cause if you look at him wrong, he will kill you five times before you hit the ground. Is that a Rottweiler you are walking with? So what. See this other dachshund? Her name is Godiva. She has chunks of dogs like him in her stool.

Yup, we’ve adopted a new attitude here at the Poop. Seems that a study found that dachshunds are the most aggressive breed of dog. Other dachshund outlets are outraged at the news. Not here at the Poop. We are embracing our new #1 status.

Take that Pit Bulls. Go cower in a corner somewhere. Better yet, go in the kitchen and bake us a pie!

The study was done by the University of Pennsylvania and can be accessed for a fee. Thankfully, our friends at Discovery have summarized it for us. I will summarize the summarization:

Chihuahuas and Dachshunds scored higher than average for aggression directed to both humans and dogs, putting them towards the top of the list.

"There is some evidence that smaller breeds are more often the targets of aggression by other dogs," she added, "and small breeds, particularly Dachshunds, are more prone to injury due to rough handling by children, so this form of aggression among small breeds may be a learned response due to negative past experiences."

Of our two dachshunds, Couper does kind of fit the aggressive description. He is extremely protective and possibly would bite a person or dog thinking he was protecting his Mommy or Big Buddy. On the few opportunities he has had to be close enough to bite someone while being protective, he never has. And despite taking on bigger dogs in barking contests, he makes sure to hurry along on our walk the second he thinks the big dog may actually be heading towards him. On the other hand, he has lightly bitten both his mommy and me once. On each occasion it was when we were reaching for him when he was in a confined space and he was scared. It was stupid on our part and he reacted like a dog would.

Couper of course loses all aggression if you just hand him a toy. He goes from aggressive to pest ("Throw it again. Throw it again!!!"). I am not sure where that falls in the study.

Though Godiva likes to nibble on us and Couper, she is very good with other people and dogs. She has been great in Petsmart and was great when manhandled by her little human nieces (can little nieces manhandle? Kid handle? Let’s just say Godiva was not handled with kid gloves). Hopefully she is going to grow out of her nibbling stage (soon please!). At this point in her young life she is scared of her own shadow and of loud noises. One such noise is Couper’s barking. Rather than join in with him, she runs away. Hopefully she keeps a little of that. At this point aggression is not our biggest worry with her.

As far as other dachshunds we know, none is aggressive. In fact Couper and Godiva’s cousin Frankie is the mellowest dog I ever met. All he wants out of life is for his belly to be rubbed – all the time. When you stop rubbing his belly, he looks at you sadly, tries to get the rubbing going again, and failing that, falls asleep. If he weren’t almost 30 pounds, I would question if he had ever bitten his dinner, let alone a person or dog.

Strangely the reaction that we get from people when we walk our dachshund(s) isn’t that they are aggressive, it is that they are funny. “Look at the wiener dog!” “Wow, he’s a feisty little one, isn’t he cute, ha ha ha!!!” I understand it to a certain degree. I forget how small Couper is sometimes. One day I was driving home and saw Couper’s Mommy walking Couper. I was amazed from a different perspective not only how small he is but how fast his little legs pump to keep up on a walk. I kind of cracked up, just like people passing us in a car often do. One day I was walking Couper and we were coming up on a house where a dad was throwing a football with his kid. I was using my best Kindergarten training to keep Couper in line. We were about a house away from them when the father saw us and started laughing. He said to his son, “Hey, look, a wiener dog” and kept laughing. As we got to the house, he asked, “How old is your wiener dog?” I replied, “Five.” He said, “Really, five?” and started laughing again. To this day, I have no idea what his problem was. Maybe it was a Butthead moment (huh huh, he’s walking his wiener), but he really did not look the type. All I know was to him, Couper and I were hilarious. (I found it funny his 10 year old son couldn’t catch a pass; I stayed silent).

That was then. Now we have a new attitude:

What do you mean I'm funny? What do you mean; you mean the way I walk? What? Funny how? You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little (bleep)ed up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to (bleep)in' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny? No, no, I don't know, you said it. How do I know? You said I'm funny. How the (bleep) am I funny, what the (bleep) is so funny about me? Tell me, tell me what's funny!

So the next time you see a dachshund, you better show some respect. Now that we have gotten to number 1, we have no intentions of giving it up.

Hey, next door neighbors with one dachshund. Nice try, but our two will destroy your one not to mention your retriever and your puggle. You other next door neighbors with no dachshunds? You better run while you have the chance. We are now the dominant force on the block. In fact, we might get one more dachshund and rule the neighborhood. Maybe another after that and take over the nation. Five, and we could rule the world!!!

Happy 4th of July From The Poop

Happy Fourth of July from the Poop!

Yes, Couper and Godiva, in the picture above, are looking at the flag, not begging for a yummy.

The Poop's Fourth of July tip:

If you are grilling today and maybe have had a Sam Adams or two and you pick up a hot dog that has legs, stop before you put it on the grill, it may be your dachshund. If it is not your dachshund, you either have a bad hot dog or have had a few too many Sam Adams.

Also, the Poop wishes our friends north of the border a belated Happy Canada Day. Unlike the US, Canada did not have the cajones to rid themselves of Great Britain once and for all on Canada Day as we did on Independence day, however, we honor Canada today for their fine contributions of hockey, beer, the McKenzie Brothers, and Pamela Anderson. (What, you thought you were getting a Pam Anderson picture?)

Party on North America!