Today is National Dress Up your Pet day, and I have nothing to wear.

I am totally depressed.       You would at least think that my Mom could have found a ratty old scarf for me, or something, but NO.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip. Zilch.

Did you know about today?     I know that if our Princess Daisy was still here with us on Earth that she would have had an appropriate outfit.     She was, remember, the only English Bulldog anywhere with a Washington Redskin cheer leader outfit  (kids, small, size 7).   No doubt she and our Hannah are at The Bridge, right now, discussing their outfits.     But for Bob?  Nothing.

So check out this information that we got from Dogster.Com  --- this was obviously written by someone named Jake, who it would appear, did not really appreciate his owners effort to make him a Winner, Winner, Winner.    I guess poor Jake found the entire experience rather humiliating.  

And all I wanted was a lousy bandana.


Dogster has an excellent Pet Food Recall Alert system. But — and I know it may come as a shock — there is no Dress Up Your Pet Day alerting system. I kid you not! So I am starting one now.

Dogster dogs, be aware that Jan. 14 is National Dress Up Your Pet Day. Yes, some twisted human managed to get a day devoted to this. I realize from looking at your very nice Dogster pages that a lot of you actually don’t seem to mind getting dressed up. Some of you even seem to like it. Or maybe you’ve just given up trying to fight the inevitable.

As you can see by the photos in this post, I will be in therapy for years because of one particularly embarrassing run-in with my girl’s dress-up bin. A couple of Halloweens ago, a local pet-supply store was having a canine costume contest. By coincidence, it fell on the day of my girl’s 11th birthday party. All her friends dressed me up, right down to my dog-friendly toenail paint, pink eyebrows, and “fancy lady” costume. They all got dressed kind of fancy too, so we matched. It didn’t help. I was a boy in a girl’s world, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

On the way, we passed my friends Mikey and George and Moses. I have never been able to look them in the eyes again. I can sometimes hear them snickering, “All hail Lady Jake!” as I make my way down the sidewalk, trying to do extra high leg lifts on hydrants to show them what a man I really am. But my Girly-Boy reputation precedes me. This Christmas, a mystery gift-giver left a pink flowered dog bandana in my mailbox. The humiliation…

Yes, I won the contest. You can see the blue ribbon hanging from my pretty hat, below. But I lost my manly reputation with the blokes, and nothing — not even the $35 worth of dog treats I won — is worth that.

This Thursday, at dawn, bring a few treats into the bathroom and lock yourself in. Stay there until Friday. Trust me. An ounce of prevention is worth years of cure.

By the time I won the contest, I was already dogatonic from the humilation of the day.

Poor Jake., has a costume and didn't want one  
Poor Bob, Nothing to Wear, No Place to Go