BAD TO THE BONE: Memoir Of A Rebel Doggie Blogger

by Bo Knows Blog

Synopsis
"Witty commentary and hilarious observations."— Dog Living
Let's get this clear right away: I'm a dog. I'm 1'10" and weigh 63 lbs, and although I'm a mutt on the outside, I'm a purebred on the inside. My good nature comes from the Golden Retriever side of the family, while my stubbornness is clearly from my Chowchow bloodlines. I've got Rastafarian ears, a black tongue for licking, and paws that should be on a dog twice my size.

I type 60 words a minute.

My name is Bo, and this is my story.

From shelter dog reject to beloved pet and popular doggie blogger, Bo Hoefinger's life has been anything but ordinary.

Join this incorrigible canine as he welcomes us into his life, complete with his wacky "parents," a constipated feline housemate, and chipmunk warfare. Bad to the Bone is an unforgettable, laugh-out-loud tale of love and loyalty that reveals the true heart of a modern American family.




Here's an excerpt from the book...

Of All The Gin Joints In All The World

We met back in the early 90’s, December of ‘92 to be exact. I just had a major blowout with my first, somewhat dysfunctional family and decided that it was best for all if I just left. My foster dad gave me a ride to nowhere that ended up at a boarding house in Albany, NY. The place was great, warm with plenty of company, and their cheesy poof biscuits were to die for. On the downside, it was loud and smelly, not unlike me.

Even a lowly pug could smell her coming from miles away. It was Monday, as I recall, and the bells on the door jingled to announce her arrival. She was a beautiful blonde with a quick smile and a big heart. We’d seen this type before; they usually left with one of the pure bred puppies, but something was different about this one. My instincts told me that any canine would be darn lucky to go home with a dame like her, so I made it my top priority to be that hound.

She wandered back to where we lived. Frankly, I was a bit embarrassed about the condition of the place. Some of my cage mates were not very clean and some even took to pooping where they ate. My next cage neighbor’s lack of etiquette was particularly noteworthy as he took to eating kitty snickers (that’s slang for cat poo in the big house) openly. Sure they taste good, but you’re not getting adopted if you’re seen eating one.

As she came closer to my humble accommodations, I tried everything I could to grab her attention. When she finally got to me I made direct eye contact with her, angled my head at a 45 degree tilt and gave her my trademark BoPaw’ reach. As a bonus, my head as a pup was fully-grown, although my body wasn’t. While it would have been abnormal on any other dog, my oversized cranium actually made me cuter.

With the paw in the air and the bobble head turned just so, I stared into her eyes. I could see instantly she wanted me. Needed me. Had to have me. Hey who wouldn’t?

With her finely manicured nails, she reached out and petted me. She was clearly enjoying our encounter. How easy these humans are to manipulate, I thought. Her hands were refreshingly cool and her smell put me in a state of delight. I was in love. I could tell she loved me too.

After a few gushing, “He’s so cute!” comments, she took her hand out of my cage, gave me one last look and proceeded to move on to Pumpkin’s cage.



You can read the rest at www.boknowsonline.com