The Greatest Dog Cartoon Ever!

Does anybody read Marmaduke?

I’ve always ignored it as one of those ancient strips that clutters up the comics page for generations, long after the original writer either retires or dies. Based on the box office grosses for the recent movie version, there’s not a lot of Marmaduke love out there.

When it comes to comic strip dogs, it begins and ends with Snoopy, as far as I’m concerned. All the others are entirely forgettable. Odie has made something of a name for himself as a buffoon in the Garfield strips, but he’s a weak icon. And while 71 million people supposedly read Parade Magazine every week, I have yet to meet a single Howard Huge fan.

Cartoon dogs fare much better on television. My kids grew up watching Clifford, The Big Red Dog, and I have fond memories of Underdog and Scooby-Doo. But there’s one dog character that has faded into obscurity that’s due for a resurgence. I have never forgotten him, even after all these years, and I can still sing every word to the theme song.



Yes, of course, I speak of the great Hong Kong Phooey.

Hong Kong Phooey is the mild-mannered janitor who turns into a superhero by jumping into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet and then popping out of the top drawer after the cat pounds on it really hard. Inexplicably, he’s an anthropomorphic dog in a world of humans, but nobody recognizes him when he puts on his mask. He’s blitheringly incompetent, but he’s voiced by the great Scatman Crothers, so he’s also deeply groovy.

Yeesh, if they can make a Marmaduke movie, what’s the hold up on a Hong Kong Phooey flick?

Toy Story 3 from a Dog's Perspective

I rewatched Toy Story 3 yesterday, and, from almost every perspective, it's the best movie of the three. I thought so when it first came out, and my reviewing only confirms it.

From a dog's point of view, though, it's a disaster.

Buster, the dog given to Andy at the end of the first movie, was a hero in Toy Story 2. He was bright and vivacious and a friend to everyone. In Toy Story 3, though, he's a disaster. He's old; he's fat, and he's out of shape. What's worse, he's the punchline of the joke. Ha ha! Look at how decrepit Buster is! Isn't that HI-larious?

Aaargh.

Slinky Dog, the dog toy, fares much better, although the sad part about that is that his original voice was provided by the great Jim Varney - Ernest from the Ernest Goes to Camp movies - passed away between sequel installments. The new guy does a passable imitation, but we Ernest die-hards can tell the difference.

Still, there is a moment at the end of Toy Story 3 where you realize unequivocally that this is the finest film of the series. It’s a moment that involves a simple gesture and no words. I don’t need to tell you any more than that. I promise you, you will know it when you see it. And if that moment doesn’t make your eyes moist, then you have no soul.

I don’t need to rehash plot points. On paper, they look quite a bit like the first two films: toys in peril, daring rescues, and friends who stick together. But so much more is at stake here. The existential questions raised in #2 become major life-or-death struggles, taking this movie in some very dark directions. (My five-year-old was too terrified to watch much of it.) You discover just how much these characters have come to mean to you over the years. The ending is note perfect and tremendously satisfying, but you’ll probably sniffle a bit during that part, too. With the possible exception of Cars 2, which I personally haven't seen, Pixar has yet to make a bad film.

But as far as the dogs go, I give it two paws down.

How To Eat A Cat

"Cats and dogs living together - mass hysteria!"

- Bill Murray, Ghostbusters, 1984

On a species-wide basis, there's no love lost between dogs and cats. I've discovered, too, that between pet owners, there's not a lot of crossover - you're either a dog person or a cat person, and never the twain shall meet.

Anyway, one of the more virulent cat haters I know brought to my attention a truly disturbing website, which I don't recommend for the faint of heart, because it shows graphic, hideous pictures of cats being skinned to be eaten. I won't provide the link, because it goes too far, but if you google "How to eat a cat," I'm pretty sure you'll be able to find it. The text of the site is pretty funny, but real-life pictures take the whole thing from the realm of the silly into the world of the hideous. I don't really want to skin cats and eat them, but I'm happy to joke about it. Perhaps that's an awkward line to draw, but that's where I am. I have two cats, personally, and while I'm happy to make morbid observations, I'd really rather they stayed alive, thank you very much.

Sites about eating cats might be good for a chuckle if you don't take them seriously.

For instance, I give you How to Make a Cat Tamale...

The Alpo Drop

It's been famously said that the difference between dogs and cats is that you can leave a cat for a few days with a big pile of food and a clean litter box, and all will be well. You try the same thing with a dog, however, and he'll eat the whole thing in three seconds and leave enough poop around the house to last a lifetime.

I've never owned a dog that was satisfied with dry dog food. In fact, I've never had a dog who didn't finish the meal I gave him before it hit the ground. That's a literal fact, and, while it may not speak well for me, I thought I'd pass along these feeding tips for people who don't want to be troubled with taking more than a full minute to provide a dog with a meal.

I called it the Alpo Drop. Don't worry - it works with generic brands, too.

Our dogs growing up were big ol' beasts - German Shepherds, black labs, and a Bernese Mountain Dog. The minute you pulled the Alpo out of the pantry, the tails started wagging, the dogs started yelping,. and the expectation was that unless you opened said can and plopped it in their mouths, they would probably eat you. So that didn't give me much time to respond.

I used an electric can opener and opened the Alpo, and I would pound the side of the can against the counter top precisely three times. That loosened the slop within enough that I could then shake it out of the can. It held its shape as it slurped out, like some kind of meaty gelatin. With these dogs, the food never hit the floor. In fact, it barely made it out of the can. They would open their mouths and seemingly swallow it whole.

I don't know if this was good for them, or whether you folks should try this at home. All I know is that I could be watching some stupid sitcom and feed the dogs during the commercial break when Lorne Greene was selling Alpo.

I don't sell Alpo. I live it!

Dog Music

Popular music hasn’t been too kind to the canine.

Once upon a time that wasn’t the case. In days gone by, everyone was asking how much is that doggy in the window. But the dogs in the songs I grew up with were either nasty – the mean junkyard dog in “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” – or worthless – Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog” – or an afterthought used to complete a rhyme – “Me and You and a Dog Named Boo.”

That last one really ticks me off.

I mean, the dog named Boo doesn’t figure into the story at all. This guy is travelling all over the place living off the earth and stealing from hens or whatever, and the dog’s just along for the ride. The guy’s car gets more play in the tune than Boo does. And if his name were Herbie or Sheldon or some other nonsense, he wouldn’t have even gotten a mention at all. Try singing “Me and You and a Dog named Floyd” and you’ll see what I mean.

It’s not that people don’t love their dogs; it’s just that it’s hard to incorporate dog love into a song that rocks. I speak from experience. I consider myself something of a songwriter, and I choose odd subjects for my songs. I have a hard time taking soulful, dippy ballads seriously, especially those written to animals. (“Wildfire?” I mean, what is that? A love song to a dead horse? Please.)

Writing a song requires a line or a hook to get you into the groove, and on at least one occasion, that hook involved a dog. Out of nowhere, I started humming a line that I added words to, and the words were as follows:

“Got a load of birdseed and fed it to my dog.”

A fine, absurdist beginning. So then, of course, what happens next? Well, the bird can’t be too happy about that, can he?

So the next line was, naturally:

“The bird got very angry.”

That doesn’t rhyme, but it gives me somewhere to go. We have tension here. Drama. Bird vs. Dog. It’s kind of like Jay vs. Conan, only different.

So I took this and ran with it.

“The bird got very angry, and said I shouldn’t hog
All the seed for the dog when the bird needs it more
That was the start of the dog/birdie war.”

The song went from there into an epic battle where bullfrogs get shaved and animals are hitting each other with Wiffle Ball bats.

You can hear the demo here. It was recorded entirely by me, which won’t seem all that impressive once you actually hear the song.

That’s why we dare you to do better.

In the coming weeks, we’re going to offer exciting opportunities to songwriting dog lovers who want to make the dog ditty hip again. Check back next Wednesday for more details. In the meantime, keep your dogs away from the birdseed unless you have plenty of Wiffle Ball bats on hand.