Pack, we did it. Last night was my final night of Basics Obedience Class, and I regret to inform you that I was ✨magnificent✨. But first—let me introduce you to my classmates, because it was quite the crew. There was a rescued chihuahua who barked. All. The. Time. He also left the classroom a lot. Small body. Big opinions. A very cute rescued pit bull mix, six months old and powered entirely by joy and wiggles. We started at the bottom of the class together, bonded by enthusiasm and questionable self-control. A Samoyed puppy who absolutely knew she was beautiful. …
Author: jimtturner
Confessions of a Slightly Squishier Poodle
Friends. Pack members. Snack distributors. I have some very important news. I went to the vet for my first annual visit since my Gotcha Day (July 1, thank you very much 🎉), and apparently—apparently—I have been enjoying life a little too enthusiastically. Let’s review the highlights. First: I was a VERY good boy. No fussing. No dramatics. No flailing limbs of despair. I accepted my shots like a dignified gentleman who understands that bravery often earns praise and possibly cookies. (Worth it.) Second: The Scale Betrayed Me. Somewhere between August (when I lost a tooth—RIP, buddy 🦷) and now, I …
The Great Christmas Kerchief Caper
My hoomans have officially lost their minds—all over a Christmas photo. I knew something was up. Hoomans can’t hide excitement. Their hearts start pounding, they talk too loud, and they move around—a lot. The morning started great: spa day. My favorite! Hands on me and only me for hours. Heaven—except for the toenail clipping. Not a fan. And what’s this obsession with the hair in my ears? It’s mine. Leave it be. Then the weirdness started. Furniture moving. Camera out. Mom heads to the utility room and comes back with—oh no—a red bandanna covered in Christmas puppies. I’ll admit, it’s …
The Bookcase Mystery
Once the “horses” were handled, I turned my attention to a new potential threat — the bookshelf. It’s been there forever, but somehow I’d never really noticed it… until now. I paced, I sat, I stood on my hind legs, and I stared it down, determined to figure out what was hiding up there. Worse, it’s lurking right beside my wire den — and that’s a situation I just can’t ignore. Haven’t seen what started it all? Watch my original standoff in The Horse Photo Incident.
Bathroom Bandit
🚫 Bathroom Bandit: Confessions of a Spoo Okay, listen. I’ve recently discovered a new hobby that I’m told is “naughty,” “gross,” and “absolutely not, Tucker.” It’s called bathroom trash raiding. I call it recreational recycling. First of all, the hoomans threw it away. Obviously that means it’s free game. Why else would they put it in an open bin at perfect snoot level? That’s an invitation. A trap-free buffet. A treasure chest. My favorite loot? 🎯 2-ounce Dixie cups. Tiny. Crunchy. Portable. They shred like a dream. They make that satisfying krkrkrkrk sound when I chomp them. Chef’s kiss. Do …
To The Park
To the Park! My Best Day Ever (Every Week) 🐾🌲 Every Sunday, something magical happens. I don’t know what day of the week is what—time is a flat circle—but somehow I always feel it coming. Park Day. The first time Mom and Dad took me, I lost my entire mind. All of it. Gone. We stepped out of the car and BOOM—wind, squirrels, grass, lake smells, hoomans, tiny hoomans, DOGS. My tail turned into a helicopter and I took off like a poodle-powered rocket. Mom kept saying, “Heel, Tucker,” but honestly, how am I supposed to heel when LITTLE PEOPLE …
Tucker Goes To School
Tucker Goes to School! 🐾📚 Guess what? I’m going to school. Yep. SCHOOL. Mom kept saying that word all week, but honestly, I thought it meant something fun like “we’re going to the park later” or “Tucker, stop raiding the Dixie cups out of the bathroom trash.” (Spoiler: I regret nothing.) Everything started with a car ride in the dark. DARK. We never leave in the dark. We only come home in the dark. So my brain launched into full detective mode: • Park? • Vets? • GRANDKIDS?! • SECRET MISSION? • SECOND DINNER?! But none of the smells matched. …
Vote for Tucker
HOOOOMANS! I’M COMPETING IN A NATIONAL PET CONTEST! Vote for me every day to help support rescue doggos—and to send this curly chaos noodle to the awards show in a tiny tux!🐩💛✨
The Thanksgiving Visit
The Thanksgiving Visit 🦃🚗✨ (A true story from Tucker, Professional Family Escort and Part-Time Backseat Acrobat) I knew something was going on. Mom and Dad kept marching out to the car with bags and boxes, and I trotted behind them every time, supervising. That’s my job. I’m basically head of security around here. Then Mom said the magic words: “Tucker, you’re coming with us.” YES. THE BEST. Now, before every car trip, I perform my sacred ritual: I check my reflection in the car door. Gotta make sure the ears are fluffy and the snoot looks symmetrical. Can’t show up …
Owl Watch Patrol: The Case of the Cheeping Intruder
🦉 Owl Watch Patrol: The Case of the Cheeping Intruder Hoomans think TV is just for them, but I know better — it’s a window into the wild. One night, an owl appeared on the screen, hopping around its enclosure like it owned the place. Every time it cheeped, I moved with it — pacing back and forth across the room, standing on my hind legs to keep up. Then came the rodents. A tiny mouse baby. A blur of squirrels. My tail wagged furiously, and my tongue lolled as I tracked every movement. I couldn’t look away — not …