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.
Author: jimtturner
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 …
The Art of the Afternoon Nap
🐾The Art of the Afternoon Nap Teaser: A well-timed nap is a science, an art form, and sometimes a full-body performance. Let me tell you something important: Naps are not optional. They are essential. Like cookies, sniffing fresh laundry, or making sure the mailman knows I’m watching. But the hoomans call it “Tucker’s quiet time.” Quiet? I call it strategic energy conservation. Every nap has a purpose. You can’t just flop down anywhere. No, no. You need the right location, the right temperature, and the proper level of sunbeam involvement. Nap Location #1: The Office Cushion When Mom’s in the …
The Great Poodle Fashion Show (Against My Will)
🐾 The Great Poodle Fashion Show (Against My Will) Teaser: Hoomans love dog clothes. Poodles? …we’re still deciding. Let me set the record straight: I am a natural beauty. My curls don’t need accessories. My fluff is already runway-ready. But try telling that to my mom. Apparently, “every stylish poodle needs options,” which is how I ended up with a growing closet of outfits I did not ask for. Exhibit A: The Turquoise Sweater Jacket The first time she slipped this thing over my head, I froze. Why are my legs in sleeves? Why is my body suddenly the color …
The Mysterious Case of the Bed Step Thingy
The Mysterious Case of the Bed Step Thingy. 🐾 Something new appeared at the foot of the bed—a soft, square mystery. I sniffed. I circled. I conquered. 🐩👑 You know how hoomans are. They move things for reasons. Sometimes it’s to “redecorate.” Sometimes it’s to “help Tucker.”This time? Suspicious. There it was. A big brown box at the foot of my bed—soft, square, and obviously up to no good. I remembered it from the old days. That’s Sammy’s step box! My big brother used it to climb to bed before he crossed the rainbow bridge. After he left, the box …