See Buddy: The Treat Mafia

See Buddy.

Buddy has fallen in with the wrong crowd and now is a member of a vicious street gang called, "The Treat Mafia".

See The Boss.

The Boss, and his colleagues believe they are in the business of "Treat Management".

See The Dame.

The Dame is, by far, the most ruthless member of The Treat Mafia. Her bite is much worse than her bark if she is denied her share of a treat. And without regard for consequences.

See their hangout.

The Treat Mafia patrol their hangout without mercy. Anyone who enters, gets the squeeze for a treat, and when they want it they want it now!

Or else.

And The Dame isn't one to be denied... If you know what's good for you.

The last guy who denied them a treat was never seen or heard from again.

Message on the street was, "he was with Luca Brazi, sleeping with the fishes."

Desparately Searching The Dog Whisperer

My dogs suck.

There, I said it. I love them very much and really wouldn't want to live without any of them, but sometimes I feel like they rule my life. I have 3 dogs too many, and they most certainly subscribe to a "pack" mentality because they gang up on me regularly.

They know that I am a sucker for a cute face and they work that fact to their advantage.

Lets take a look at the three of them individually, and by order of age.

Amos-Amos is the black and white Jack Russell Terrier. Amos was a stray that My Guy got at a local dog shelter seven years ago who was severely abused. We aren't quite sure of the exact age of Amos, but the vet has "guess-timated" his age around 12 or 13 years old. He had been adopted by families twice, both times he was brought back for biting and nasty behaviors. He also had severe hip problems, from being abused, and was on the block to be put to sleep. When My Guy saw Amos, he was told that Amos was un-adoptable and to take him out of consideration. Of course, after playing with him for a bit and then taking him for a walk, he pleaded with the powers that be at the shelter to adopt Amos, exclaiming that this was the only dog for him.

He went through a vigorous adoption process and was cleared to adopt Amos on the condition that he would give Amos the proper surgery for his hips and because My Guy was a single man at the time and could devote his full attention to Amos's needs. Needless to say Amos is a different dog today than he was seven years ago. He came to live with us; myself, my two children and my two dogs, 3 years ago. Amos adjusted to family life and the rest of the dog pack beautifully. So much for the opinion of the "powers that be" at the shelter. He is a very intelligent dog and very intuitive and is the best cuddler in the world.

Amos is the true alpha of the pack. Boss Hog of all the other dogs (and sometimes me) for sure, and a mama's boy. As I type this, he is "allowing" me to share my desk chair with him. He has 80% of the chair, allowing my ass the remaining 20%.

Jingle-Jingle is the fawn pug and the only female dog in the pack. Miss Ming, as she is affectionately known, is 6 years old and is the sweetest, little pain in the ass dog ever. She snorts, farts, snores and sheds. Jingle has to be on top of me if I am sitting on the couch watching TV, god forbid any of the other dogs get closer to me than she does and she is a little spitfire. She takes no crap from any of the other dogs and will let them know if she has reached her limit with them in no uncertain terms. She is an excellent watch dog, but will bark at the slightest thing and loud and often. This, of course, sets off a chain reaction of the other two, which leads to a cacophony of endless dog barking. She is also the trash queen, as she sees any unattended trash barrel as a new world which needs exploring. Of the three, I have to say that Jingle is the most disobedient, yet the lowest maintenance dog.

Buddy-Buddy is a 5 year old boxer and the star of The Daily Dandy Post's entitled, "See Buddy". Buddy is a love, but he is my problem child. Spastic, mischievous and supremely energetic, Buddy gets into trouble, A LOT. But with a face like that he regularly gets away with it and he knows it. Garden hoses, potted plants, basketballs, newspapers; anything out side is free game to Buddy. If for some reason the garage doors were left open, Buddy will drag out hockey bags, golf balls, tools, trash, shovels and anything else that strikes his fancy. He lifts his leg wherever and whenever he sees fit, and this includes inside the house, and he is a slobber-er. Yup, long drool threads that hang from his jowls, threatening any outfit I,or anyone in the house is wearing. Buddy is sweet and plays stupid, but he is much smarter than he thinks we think he is.

My dogs have their own staff. I'm not kidding here, Buddy and Jingle go to Doggy Day care on Mondays and Buddy occasionally works with the trainer there. Amos used to go to work daily with My Guy, but because he's now a family dog, he's "semi-retired" opting to stay home with the pack more often than not. They also have my cleaning girl, who stays with them when we travel and tends to them daily.

None of this seems to be promoting changed behavior. The dogs will listen to My Guy first, he is the true alpha, but when it comes to me, it's like they got my number. They'll behave for a little while and then they'll just do what they want anyway.

Someone please get me The Dog Whisperer stat! As I type this they are barking incessantly at a woman walking a dog down the street-inside the house! AHHHH!

Cesar Millan, TV's self proclaimed dog psychologist says:

"I rehabilitate dogs. I train people." - Cesar Millan

I need a people trainer ASAP.

Sometimes Candy Is NOT So Dandy

If the old saying is true, that "its all in a name", then I think might have I gotten gypped. My blog moniker is, in fact, my real name and it's one I never took a shine to until later in life. My given name, bestowed upon me at the time of my birth, has a completely different feel and what I find so interesting is that my name has now become the mirror that has two faces.

Candy, the name I use here, is the one that I have been known as for most of my life. You can tell how long someone has known me by the name they call me. My family and very close friends still refer to me as Candy. For me, Candy will always be the cute little girl in pigtails with her front tooth missing. As a young child of school age, I was bright and full of joy, eager to find my place amongst my peers. The joy almost always came to an abrupt halt the moment they learned my name. It was as if I was asking for it-an easy target for their ridicule. And ridicule me they did. I became used to spending the first few minutes of an introduction going over the specific idiosyncrasies of the name Candy. And believe me when I tell you, I have heard them all-then and now.

"Are you sweet?"

"Do you TASTE good?"

"Hey Candy, can I have some?"

"Candy Cane, can I suck on you?"

The horror of hearing these phrases over and over again from almost every grade school crush and schoolmate played out in the school yard on a daily basis. After a while, I just learned to deal with it and made my mark in other ways. It could have been worse. I could have been ugly--just kidding. All I'm saying is that I took it in stride.

As an adult, when I was dating, any guy that played the name game with my introduction, was out. No questions, no exceptions. It was my own personal litmus test. My mom and dad still call me Candy, as well as my 4 siblings, who also have a shortened version to express their love, a more endearing, simple, Cand. My given name was rarely used, only for official documents, doctors appointments and when I knew I was in BIG trouble. My mom would scream it from the other room, in a phonetically articulate manner, and that's when I knew the jig was up.

It wasn't until I became an adult, somewhere in my 20 somethings, that I stopped introducing myself as Candy and adopted my rarely used given name, Candace. And I liked it.

It had a certain regality to it that Candy just couldn't convey and I was able to successfully separate myself from that little girl in pigtails. There was a point that Candy became uncomfortable, the ridicule of the name taking an ominous turn into the lurid. Hooker jokes, porn stars named Candy, dumb blonde with big boobs jokes, Candace served to protect me from the vulnerability of Candy. With Candace, as a young adult just beginning life's journey, I could, without questions or ridicule, stand alone. It is a name I am proud to call my own.

So why is it that I chose Candy for the title of my blog world? It would seem that even I can't escape the gimmick of the name. Candy works for my purposes here. It's catchy and has an ease to it and it's easy to remember. In the bloggersphere, it just sort of pops off the page and represents the light, ironic content I share here daily and if you were to meet me, I'd still be Candy. It is me. Like it or not, I am stuck with it.

But dare I say it, I'm beginning to like it.

Reacquainting myself with Candy has been therapeutic, working to exile the demons of my past. If it's true about it being all in a name, Candy has given me back a unique quality I may have buried somewhere deep. Silly as it sounds, it makes me approachable. I no longer grimace when a stranger calls me Candy, having picked it up from someone close to me. I have warmed to what is rightfully mine. I will probably always introduce myself as Candace, as I have honed that persona to perfection as well. Candace is the capable adult, and Candy is free to be the crazy one.

Wow. If I read that last sentence again, I think I just learned that maybe Candy really is dandy!

See Buddy: A Christmas Tail

SEE BUDDY

BUDDY IS A FOOD-LOVING WHITE BOXER WHO ALSO LOVES CHRISTMAS.

BUDDY IS GETTING READY FOR SANTA TO COME BUT THERE IS A SMALL PROBLEM.

BUDDY HAS BEEN NAUGHTY.... OH, WHAT'S A DOG TO DO?



YOU SEE, BUDDY ATE ALL THE CHRISTMAS BROWNIES AND NOW THERE ARE NO MORE TO LEAVE OUT FOR SANTA WHEN HE COMES TONIGHT.

BUDDY TOLD HIS PACK HE WAS AFRAID HE WOULD GET COAL IN HIS STOCKING FROM SANTA. THEY PRETTY MUCH AGREED THAT HE WAS SCREWED BUT GOOD, AND BUDDY THANKED THEM FOR THEIR MORAL SUPPORT.

THEN BUDDY DECIDED TO PUT ON A BRAVE FACE AND HAVE A HEART TO HEART WITH THE MAN IN RED. THEY TALKED FOR A WHILE AND BUDDY WAS ELATED WHEN SANTA TOLD HIM THAT ALL OF GODS CREATURES, BOTH GOOD AND BAD, ON CHRISTMAS MUST REMEMBER TO KEEP PEACE AND SHOW GOOD WILL TOWARDS EACH OTHER. SANTA SAID THAT WAS MOST IMPORTANT.

BUDDY FELT MUCH BETTER AND HE REALIZED THAT CHRISTMAS WAS ABOUT MORE THAN JUST BROWNIES AND BONES.

BUDDY WAS SO HAPPY THAT HE DECLARED, I MEAN BARKED, "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOODNIGHT"!!!!!!

HAPPIEST OF HOLIDAYS TO YOU AND YOURS FROM CANDY'S DAILY DANDY!

See Buddy

See BUDDY.

BUDDY is an energetic, sweet, over zealous, white boxer.

See BUDDY'S school bus.

BUDDY goes to school on Monday's so he can socialize in a large group with other over zealous dogs. Let's just say that yesterday was NOT a good day at school for BUDDY.

See BUDDY'S mug shot.

BUDDY is in the clink facing a possible 10-20 on multiple charges of statutory rape and aggravated sexual assault on more than a few of his female school mates.

Bad BUDDY, bad dog!