Rushing Russia!

Hogan Here!

I am here, all right, with my feet firmly planted on solid ground.  Can’t say the same for Donald.  He’s running with Putin!  

Speculations about Donald are many but no one speculates that Donald is kin to me.  Donald looks just like a Golden Retriever.  Without doubt, he is my kin.  And, yet, he is running around with Putin.  Why?  Putin is not a Golden. He’s a Russian Bear Dog; a breed great for Russia but not so great for Donald.  

Donald can’t even make Putin an honorary golden.  Have you noticed that Putin rides horses half naked.  No Golden would think of that!  And, if a Golden did, he would be kicked out of the breed.

And, it gets worse.  In addition, Putin practices two forms of martial arts, tags white polar bears in the wild, and shoots whales with crossbows!  

Donald!  What are you thinking!  You can’t even survive in the same dog contest with Putin.  And, you better never spar with this dude!  

With Putin, Donald, you are in a lose, lose, lose, lose situation. Back off!  If you need to pal around with somebody, pal around with Pope Francis, he is not a Golden but, believe me, he is a Golden Pope.  You are good with him.  Definitely good! 

DON'T GET EXCITED.  THIS POLAR BEAR IS STUFFED!

     

A DONALD MOMENT

Three Strikes And They're Out



Hogan Here!


I communicate to people really well.  Believe me, I have it down to a fine science.  The problem that I have is that people ignore my body cues.  And working my body is what my communication is all about!


Do you know that, just yesterday, my folks were headed out the door with full intention of making me the house watch dog  DON'T MAKE ME THE HOUSE WATCH DOG!!!!  I am not cut out for that kind of stuff!


The first thing I did was jump in my Mom's lap begging her to pet me.  This way, I could hold her down before she could get her car keys.  But that didn't work.  Mom said that she loved me as she pushed me away.


So, I went to Maria, my family friend and did what any dog would do to a family friend.  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the living room.  I was sure that she wasn't going anywhere.  But she laughed at me as she pried my jaws open and went for the door.


Desperate times require desperate measures.  I picked up a six pound rope toy with both ends still dragging on the floor.  That is one big rope toy!  Holding it was tough.  But holding it and smiling at the same time was tougher.  And, then the added tail work put the effort over the top.  No one could resist me now!


But, they left!  Yep, three strikes and they were out the door.


As I said, my communication is about working my body.  It looks like I definitely must move it up a notch or two.  So, its either war or its karate!  I'll try karate first.

A GREEN BELT WILL DO