Dogs Can Fly!

Did you know that rescue dogs in the UK were trained to fly a real airplane?

In 2016 Sky 1 aired a TV series called Dogs Might Fly. Twelve dogs underwent acting challenges, made music videos, and even acted in a live play.

Three of the dogs made it to flight school. With special equipment and training, the dogs learned to steer the plane, keep it level, and follow simple flying instructions. Two dogs were able to fly a Cessna 172 in a figure 8.

Good dogs!

The dogs didn’t handle takeoff or landing, but they did control the plane in the air. I think they earned their wings!

Introduction to TJ and Bart!

Bart: Hello! We had to introduce ourselves to Anipal Times readers! My name is Bart!

TJ: And my name is TJ! Hewwo!

Bart: A wittle about ourselves. First, me. Because I am more important.

TJ: What?????

Bart: Never mind! I came to Daddy’s home thwee years ago. It was a vewwy happy day!

TJ: Bart likes to eat more than any doggo I know! He even tries to eat my food!

Bart: You snooze, you whoose, TJ!

TJ: I’m the one who does the work here. I have been here eleven yeaws! I bwavely guard the house all of the time!

Bart: TJ is scared of the dark and thunder.

TJ: Hush! At least I’m not smaller than the fwogs around the house like you are, Bart!

Bart: Whatever! We just got together to share our thoughts on serious issues for doggos.

TJ: We will tackle the controversial issues like, um, tail sniffing and stuff like dat!

Bart: What does controversial mean?

TJ: As you can tell, I am the smart one.

Bart: Whatever! Well, dat’s who we are, Anipal Times readers! Good to meet you!

TJ: Dat wight! Now it’s time for doggo naps! See you soon!

Lola’s Story

Thursday, the 2nd, started out like any other day since I had moved in with Hoosis after Hoomum became ill.

My breakfast followed my usual walk before I settled into the day. Then something different happened. I noticed that all my possessions were being boxed up. I previously witnessed this during my travels from Hoomum’s to this location.

Could this mean that Mum was better, and I was returning home to her? I certainly hope so. My 11th birthday was 2 days earlier; what a present this would have been.

Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. The day continued as normal, and my possessions just sat there. 

A doorbell broke the silence, and to everyone’s surprise, I didn’t bark. I stood and watched as 2 strangers entered. Did they come to bring me home?

Once more, I didn’t bark at the man, which surprised everyone. Instead, I walked over to him and stood beside him, waiting for some fuss.

I always barked at anyone who appeared near the entrance, and then again when the individual proved male. Once they moved into the lounge, I again surprised them by continuing to stay beside him.

After a brief chat, I was again walking. It did not fit into my routine. This escorting individual was odd.

What was going on? 

The walk ended unexpectedly with me beside a vehicle near home. The individual remained with me while others entered the building, afterward exiting with everything I owned.

Surely this means that I am going home.

Those I met here appeared, spoke to me, and showered me with attention. I noticed Hoosis had tears in her eyes as she talked and fussed over me. They exchanged my collar for a harness, and I boarded the vehicle’s compartment while they loaded baggage.

 As we drove away, I looked out all the windows to keep Hoosis in sight until she disappeared from my sight. I then continued to examine various windows, noting location, until the route straightened, later settling once the view lost interest.

My subconscious stirred me from slumber upon detecting a shift in pace or course, prompting me to sit up, observe, before returning to slumber as the journey’s routine resumed.

Finally, we re-entered developed sectors; it proved crucial to pay attention.

It did not appear familiar; thus, I was not returning home to Mum.

 I confirmed my suspicions when we finally stopped on the driveway of a house that wasn’t Mum’s house.

I hopped out of the car, and more strangers greeted me, but it didn’t last long because I climbed back into the car and into the driver’s seat. Someone ushered me into the back seat, and we were underway once again.

 A short car ride ensued, and in next to no time we pulled onto another driveway. I didn’t recognise this place either.

I swiftly exited the car and had a good sniff around the plants in the front garden, checking the surroundings, before being led indoors.

My possessions followed, and I realized this was my new life, with my new family in my new home.

Hopefully, this time it will be forever. We shall see.

Giant Pumpkin

Did you ever wonder why your peeps take a carefully selected, perfectly tasty, giant pumpkin and carve it like a crazy person, stick it in the yard, and tell you to stay away from it? #doneanddone

–Kissy Noses and Deeper Thoughts by Sassy

A Beautiful Walk

The scent of fishing bait and the cool fall air are the first things that greet me as I get to the reservoir across the street from my home. I quickly direct my human to the walking path along the lake. My ears flap as I trot, the gentle breeze and smells moving me along to the wildflowers growing amongst the tall grass. Ohhhh, the human holding my leash is moving at a good pace, but my nose wants to linger, to follow the grassy mud trails left by the folks fishing, sailing, and rowing. 

Wildflowers win! I see the first burst of color. Dotted across the green bank, a field of wildflowers sways in the breeze. There are fresh smells, the scent of mildew, the muddy roots, and a flirty butterfly I chase. I pull on my leash, my tail thumping with excitement, and my human lets us wander farther down the path. 

I bury my nose in a clump of yellow petals, barking for fun and smelling it all. The scent tells an entire story: of the sun, the soil, and the other creatures that have passed by. Beyond the flowers, the reservoir shimmers, its surface a vast reflecting mirror. The scent of fish and cool water mixes with the wildflowers, creating a perfect scent just for me. I pause, looking up at the wide sky, and then let my beagle nose lead the way once more. There are so many stories to sniff out, and I have all the time in the world to read them to you again soon. 

Midge the Mutt’s Introduction

Midge Sleeping on Pumpkin

Welcome to everyone reading the Anipal Times and this article! My name is Sunny, and I’m the cartoonist behind Midge.

Okay, above is where the cartoonist stopped to get up and get more coffee, and use the bathroom. I have only a few minutes before she comes back, so let’s get to it.

I’m Midge, and I’m the actual star of the show. Admit it. Nobody cares about the cartoonist; they care about the star. It’s like a sitcom—you don’t want to know about how the writer got started; you want to hear about the actors, about the face of the entertainment.

So, that’s what I’m here for.

I’m a dog, a mutt specifically, a part dachshund, part Beagle, part Basset, I think. My ears are super long, so I’m pretty sure there’s Basset in there.

I came into being in 1996 when the cartoonist was still young and drawing all my comics with a pencil on notebook paper. She was trying to be the next Bill Watterson, Charles Schulz, or Jim Davis, or a combo of the three. I don’t know.

Mighty ambitious for a little kid.

Anyway, a rescue dog named Bridget, whom the cartoonist had as a kid, inspired her to create me, even though we didn’t look alike. In fact, the stuffed dog the cartoonist played with inspired my design.

Because a kid created me, she drew me poorly at first.

So, as the cartoonist got older, she redesigned me and the other characters in our cast (who are also less important than I am) and started improving her jokes. I kid you not, the very first punchline of my very first comic was “I take pride in my droppings.”

How’s that for an embarrassing start? I’m ready for Nickelodeon now! Just kidding. Anyone who knows me knows I would never sell myself to a network. I’m an independent doggo.

Since 2008, when my cartoonist began my online presence with the Official Midge website (now gone) and a year later as @MidgetheMutt on Twitter (happily still there, and I’m not calling it X), I’ve released three indie books featuring my comics!

I also have a store on Zazzle called MidgeShop (wink, wink) https://www.zazzle.com/store/midgeshop/products

She was glad when the syndicate columns rejected her.

That can make this tougher, of course, because we must do all our marketing ourselves. I work my paws to the bone! It’s hard but rewarding!

Now, enough about my dazzling career. You want to know about me.

Well, I’m adventurous, silly, and I love, love, LOVE socks (I think I might have a problem).

As for the cartoonist, she’s human, loves animals, and has a bunch of her own. To clear up a common misconception, I’m not one of them.

Melissa (my human in my comics) is not a cartoonist. Though I’m sure there’s a lot of Sunny-isms in Melissa’s reactions to my antics. Just like there’s a lot of Sunny’s doggos in those aforementioned antics.

Uh-oh. I hear her coming back, so I’ve got to wrap this up. I’ll end by saying that I hope the cartoonist and I entertain you, dear reader, with our comics, our future articles, and my boundless canine charm.

Now, go hug your furbabies!

The Busybody Book Club by Freya Sampson

Hi! I’m Sassy, @3phibotticelli on Twitter/X. My momma reads about one hundred books a year *proud ears*. So today, I am gonna review one for woo that has a doggy, Craddock the bulldog, in it. Enjoy!

The Busybody Book Club by Freya Sampson

In this fast-action mystery novel, Craddock the bulldog keeps a watchful eye as a woman gets murdered, money gets stolen from the community center, a wedding progresses rapidly, and new romances begin.

Nova is a lovely young bride-to-be. She works at the local community center and hosts a sparsely attended book club.

She shares a scary past with her fiancé and beau, Craig, and someone blamed her for leaving the Center’s door unlocked when thieves stole the roof repair fund money, ten thousand pounds, and suspended her from work.

The St. Tredock Community Book Club members rally to clear Nova’s name. They gather for an emergency book club meeting and examine the facts.

Phyllis recounts the situation. Many suspects exist, but Michael, the newest book club attendee, is foremost among them. At a recent book club meeting, new member Michael had plenty to say about the mother leaving her child behind in the book, Where the Crawdads Sing. After several negative remarks about the fictional mother, Phyllis says, Michael got a text, leapt up, and ran out of the book club.

Arthur, whose wife has gone blind, so he reads to her daily, feels the mother is getting a bad rap in Crawdads, and usually waits for the others to weigh in. Arthur cannot believe Michael would take the roof fund money.

Ash, a young, timid book reader, listens to the group. He knows he can help flush out the criminal.

But Phyllis Hudson is in charge. She is Craddock the bulldog’s momma. She is fearless.

Phyllis is an outspoken book club member and mystery crime aficionado. She loves Agatha Christie; in fact, she fancies herself as a novice detective. Miss Maple is her hero, and though she will not admit it, she is definitely not a fan of Hercule Poirot.

Pointing to Michael’s actions that evening, she proclaims her intent to recover the funds, locate the culprit, and preserve Nova’s employment and the Community Center.

Phyllis finds Michael rude and insignificant. Craddock agrees and shows it by tooting and asking for more treats.

Phyllis and Craddock set out to scope Michael’s house.

When they arrive, the police are wheeling a body out of the house, which Phyllis presumes is Michael. Michael’s wife, Cynthia, allegedly shoved his mother down the stairs.

At the funeral, Phyllis hides in a closet when Cynthia and another man appear to be canoodling in the bedroom. Cynthia then tosses Phyllis out of the house.

Phyllis pledges to solve this cash grab-and-files, Miss Maple style. Phyllis goes with Nova, Craddock, and Arthur to Michael’s home to pay their respects.

Cynthia, not amused, tells them to leave.

Ash and Arthur discover that the man Cynthia was canoodling with is a PI. They make an appointment under false pretenses and head to his office.

Phyllis and Craddock attend a meditation class at the center to distract themselves while they meet the PI, but after frequent and hilarious flatulence by Caddock, the instructor asks them to leave.

Phyllis begrudgingly leaves the session and sees Cynthia charging into the Community Center to complain about Phyllis and her so-called foul-smelling bulldog, and the others turning up at her mother-in-law’s and stalking her.

Nova seethes at Phyllis when she arrives. She then learns that Craddock is very ill. Phyllis had tied Craddock to the fence so she could intrude and eavesdrop on Nova and Cynthia. According to Phyllis, when she returned to Craddock, the English bulldog was horribly ill and shaking and had to be rushed to the vet. Phyllis thinks someone poisoned him!

Phyllis learned that the police brought Nova in for questioning because someone attacked Nova’s boss, Sandy, at the community center. The police say that someone wearing a red coat similar to Nova’s fled the scene.

Ash reports he has broken into the PI’s files and that the missing Michael is indeed his client and has paid the PI for stalking photos of none other than Phyllis.

One thing is clear: the book group is being warned.

This book has everything: theft, murder, romance, weddings, book clubs, and a beloved adopted dog!

I give it five paws up! Try it and enjoy your fall days.

See you next time at Meet Me At the Bookshelf.

Sassy Kisses