The 28 Weird Things I Admit as a Dog Owner

Every time I open my Facebook, I am bombarded by posts about dogs. And I love it! I recently came across and shared a post by Buzz Feed, listing the 35 weird things dog owners have secretly done. But on Marlee and Me Blog, there are no secrets. So, I have replied to 28 out of the 35 items mentioned. Continue below. I am not ashamed to be a dog obsessed owner, and neither should you.

1. Call your dog by a nickname more often than you use their actual name.

His name is Duke, but he is more commonly known to me as Dukie and Bubs. Zach likes to call him Batman, as you learned from a previous post why, and Scooter, after Scooter Crunch Bars, because he sure does love ice cream.

2. Have several varieties of that nickname that get weirder and weirder as time goes on.

Sometimes it is just Dukie, and other times it is Dukie Wookie – no idea where the Wookie part came from. Sometimes I even go as far as calling him Dukie Wookie the Cutie. Definitely gets longer and weirder, and trust me, Dukie Wookie the Cutie thinks it’s strange too.

3. Make up songs about your dog.

Oh, Zach and I love making up songs about Duke all the time. We have recently been singing the Batman theme song as he enters the room. Other than that, I like to sing “Dukie is a Cutie – With a little black Bootie. This is sung to the tune of the Jeepers Creepers song. Not sure why – they are definitely not similar. Anyway, I sing it all the time and have added in some appropriate dance moves.

4. Or put their name into songs that are already popular.

Instead of Brown Eyed girl, I like to sing Brown Eyed Dog. Very appropriate. Pretty much any song on the radio, I can change to be about Duke, and trust me, it happens often.

5. Lie on the floor to see what they would do if you fainted.

He sits on me. No, not beside me. On me. I think that is his way of showing love…at least I hope. Let’s just say, if I was actually in trouble, I don’t think sitting on top of me would be very beneficial, but hey, at least he tried.

6. Do a photo shoot of your dog every time they fall asleep.

I do a photo shoot of Duke every time he does anything, well accept pooping. I don’t document that. But yes, when he falls asleep, he is adorable, and I most definitely snap quite a few pictures. Until he wakes up and gives me that popular hate glare you see in some of his pictures.

7. Hold their paws because the paw pads are all squidgy.

I hold his paws when we are snuggled in bed at night. You know, just so he knows I am there.

8. Stare at them and wonder what they’re thinking…

Oh, all the time. He thinks I am a freak. Especially when I tear up thinking about how much I love him or how life before him or life after him was and will be meaningless. I am pathetic

9. …like if they KNOW you’re their owner…

Oh, he knows.

10. …and whether they like you.

He for sure loves me.
11. Feel offended if nobody asks to pet your dog when you take them out for a walk.

That never happens. He is a babe magnet.

12. Show them what they look like on your phone front camera.

He avoids looking at the camera at all costs. Unless there is a treat enticing him. People think he is photogenic, but they haven’t seen the “behind the scene” attempts.

13. Be shocked that they’re “nude” whenever you take their collar off.

Every night. Never gets old. He always looks so sad when his collar comes off. As if he isn’t owned anymore. Very dramatic.

14. Remember important milestones in your dog’s life better than you remember your own.

Oh, of course. I have this blog to thank for every event that we have documented. Notice I said “we,” as if Duke really writes some of the blog posts.

15. Flip your dog’s ears back and compliment them on their hairstyle.

Zach does this. He thinks it is hilarious. Duke, not so much.

16. Feel upset when your dog sits by someone else other than you.

Most definitely. I do everything for that dog, and the fact that he likes to snuggle up to Zach more in bed, is appalling. I think it is just because he makes a better pillow. Yea, we will go with that.

17. Point at the TV whenever dogs are on to see their reaction.

Oh yea. He loved watching “The Secret Life of Pets” with me and “A Dog’s Purpose,” where I just bawled my eyes out on his fur, acting like Duke was all emotional too. He wasn’t, He was just sleeping.

18. Think every dog that’s the same breed as yours could be a distant relative.

Nope, Duke is one of a kind. No one is as cute as him or as great as him.

19. Say “bless you” when they sneeze.

Yes, I have to be an example to him of how you have manners. He can’t grow up to be rude. Plus I like to say “Oh my, you are sleeeeepy,” every time he yawns.

20. Avoid getting up to do something because it would mean your dog has to move from their comfy position.

It’s the most heart breaking thing. Don’t do it. Just don’t move…EVER!

21. Ask to be put on the phone to your dog when you’re away from them.<div

I try to facetime him all the time. He never knows what is going on.

22. Try to trick your dog when they won’t give you the ball during fetch, by acting like you don’t want it anyway.

Nope. All I have to do is bend down and stare into his sweet eyes. He drops it right away.

23. Feel proud when your dog pees outside even though they’ve been housetrained for ages.

You always have to be the proud parent. Plus he gets a treat every time. Man, he pees like a hose though!

24. Say that your dog “made a friend today” every time they spend more than 10 seconds with another dog.

Or will the little girl Emma who brings him milk bones every time we walk.

25. Drop a little bit of food on the floor and debate whether you should clean it up or let your living-vacuum dog get to it first.

There is no debate. He gets anything that drops. Heck, he gets food even when it doesn’t drop. Plus, he doesn’t really give you a choice. He attacks it before you can think about cleaning it up.

26. And talk to them in a baby voice that you’d be embarrassed if anyone else ever heard.

I am not embarrassed. Zach, doesn’t like it.

27. Put off a socialising thing because you’d rather be at home with them.

This may or may not be true… Okay, it’s true.

28. And call your dog a baby no matter how old and big they get.

He is my baby. Always will be.

Now come on – all you dog owners have some things to confess. I would like to hear some of your responses to this. Please share. We can laugh with each other and at each other, all at the same time.


The Night I Became Batman

It started out just like any other night.

Marlee was in the tub soaking away the stress of the day in a lavender bubble bath, illuminated with the sweet smell of a vanilla candle.

I was sprawled out on the bed waiting for her to finish up so we could cuddle and watch a movie together for the remainder of the evening.

The water finally started draining, and Marlee walked into the bedroom. She laid down on the bed beside me, and for a few minutes, we stared at the sunset coming through the bedroom window. It was a beautiful sight. Then when the sun finally hid behind the house, Marlee grabbed the remote to turn on the TV.

Like I said, it started out like any other night. Except, it didn't stay a normal night.

Marlee heard a noise. It sounded like something flapping through the air. She muted the TV, and the sound could still be heard. Was it a bird? No. Was it a plane? No. Was it even Superman? No. It was nothing other than a bat!

It waited for dusk to emerge from the wall, but when it finally escaped, it came flying through the air like a bat out of Hell – pun intended.

It swooped down towards where Marlee was laying. Was mom going to be the hero that saved us both from the terrible creature? No. Instead, she threw the covers up over her head and started screaming. Mom, this wasn't a burglar – it was a bat.

It kept flying down towards the bed in a continuous circle, and Marlee, well she kept screaming. There was only one thing left to do. I leaped from the bed, and in mid air, I grabbed that bat from the air.

It screamed. It wailed. It screeched.

I didn't care how much that thing yelled. I wasn't going to let it go. This was my mom. This was my house. This was my life. This bat did not belong.

But it finally did escape my jaw's clutches, and flew out of the room and started down the stairs. That wasn't going to be how this story ended.

I bolted down the stairs after that creature. I ran so fast, that I lost a toenail in the process. That is when you know it is serious business.

I saw the bat out of the corner of my eye. My adrenaline was the highest it could get at this point. I took my paw and I swatted that bat out of mid-air. It fell to the ground, paralyzed in fear.

It was not dead yet, but I had done my job. Dad finally got home and took it from there.

But, hey, I did save my mom from getting turned into a vampire. I think that is what happens when a human gets bit by a bat. Well at least in all of the movies that I've seen.

So yea, it started out just like any other night.

But, it didn't stay a normal night. No, that night, was a special night. That night is when I turned into…..




Na-Na-Na-Na Batman.

And then the next night. It started out just like any other night, except it wasn't just like any other night.

I heard a noise coming from the bathroom. I sensed that something was not right. I bolted into the bathroom, and there it was staring at me. Another bat.

I transformed: Fangs made of nails. A tail made of a flogger. A paw with the force of a baseball bat being swung at 70mph.

I transformed again into….




Na-Na-Na-Na Batman.




July Fourth: Pee Indepantis Day

I went somewhere last night where no dog has ever went before.

Well, I may be exaggerating slightly -okay, I am exaggerating a lot. Plenty of dogs have been to this place willingly. Heck, some dogs even love this place. Me, not so much. This place is like my own personal Hell.

Throw a treat in there. Still not entering. Throw my toy in there. Still not going in. Not even a white paw will grace the floor of this place.

Trust me, I’ve been in this place before. I’ve been drug in against my will. What happens after being forced in this place, well I just can’t speak of that. It is horrible. No dog should ever have to experience that level of torture. Even thinking about my past experiences in there gives me night terrors. I haven’t been able to sleep fully since that horrid day.

So what happened last night that was horrible enough to make me enter Hell, you ask. The end of the world was happening – that’s what. Well, I actually heard my mom and dad say something about how it was Independence Day, and the world was celebrating the country’s freedom with what they call fireworks. But those sounds sure didn’t sound like freedom to me, and why would  you celebrate something by setting the sky on fire. I clearly remember reading something about that in the Bible, and trust me, it didn’t end well for some people.

To me, it sounded like there were bombs going off. The bright lights were piercing the blackened sky. It was like a war zone out there. I thought the government was coming after me for my recent transgressions – I had killed three more birds within two days. Anyway, let’s move on.

I literally saw my life flash before my eyes. Well, it could have been the fireworks flashing before my eyes, but that is besides the point. It was horrifying.

And worst yet, I was alone. Not completely alone, but alone in the bedroom. Mom was in the shower and dad was taking the trash out.

There was nowhere to hide. There was no one around to hold me, so I did the only thing I could think of to do in that moment…

I went into the bathroom!

Remember how I said earlier how not even a little white paw would grace that place. Well my whole body graced that place last night.

I ran through the cracked door and huddled on the black rug near the sink. I still tried to maintain a safe distance away from the bathtub and the shower.

My mom didn’t even know I entered the room. That is how stealthy I was about it. You know, just in case she got any awful ideas to force me in the shower for a bath. No thank you. Plus, I made sure to lay on the solid black rug, that way I would camouflage to it. I was like a chameleon.

She stopped the water and stepped out of the shower. She was on her way out of the door, when she saw something black out of the corner of her eye. At first, she thought it was either a black towel that fell or even the colony of bats that have been living up in the attic recently. But that is another story for another day.

When she looked over, and saw me laying on the bathroom floor, she just started laughing, which in my opinion, was kind of rude. I was only trembling in fear. I think she just thought it was funny that I was actually in the bathroom willingly – that had never happened, ever, and probably will never happen again. Well, unless they decide to celebrate freedom again next year – I sure hope not. Listen, I am not anti freedom. I love freedom. I am just anti celebrating freedom with bright bombs blowing up in the sky for apparently human entertainment. You humans are weird.

Eventually, she leaned down to hug me, kiss me, and comfort me. I finally felt safe.

We both walked back into the bedroom, and that is where I stayed the rest of the evening. Getting loved by my humans. Well, at least until they kicked me off of the bed to sleep.

The moral of this story: Bathrooms are terrifying, but when the world is coming to an end due to fireworks, sometimes the bathroom is your only place to hide.

Making a Murderer : Canine Edition 

I’m serving 25 years to life.

(My mug shot didn’t turn out the best) 

After ten minutes of questioning, they found me guilty on two counts of second degree murder. Man, that sounds bad, but please hear me out. Yes, I killed, but it was all in self defense – it was all to protect my family.

The first came about a year ago. The intruder was in my back yard, lurking around. He was stalking me and my mother. He would not leave our yard, no matter how much I growled and barked.

I told Marlee to go in the house and lock all the doors and windows. I didn’t want this danger getting anywhere near my mom. I also didn’t want her to see what I was about to do. At that moment, I became the man of the house, and my job was to protect her.

A few minutes went by…

Marlee peeped out the upstairs window, and could not see me or the stalker. In a panic, she bolted down the stairs and whipped open the back door. And there I stood – the blood was on my paws. And the stalker, well let’s just say he wouldn’t be bothering us anymore.

Marlee could not believe what I had done. She looked around to make sure no one was looking, grabbed a shovel, and took care of the dead body. So I guess you could say, she was an accomplice to murder, but of course, I would never do that to her. When I was questioned, I said it was self defense and Marlee was taking a nap the whole time. That investigation remained ongoing until recently.

The second time happened earlier this week. I was in the back yard again, enjoying some sunshine. Marlee was in the house, doing some laundry and house cleaning. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something perched on the chair, staring in the backdoor window. He was trying to break in.

I quietly stood up and tip-toed towards the porch, but as soon as I put one paw on the step, the intruder cocked his head in my direction. He tried to run – he thought he was going to get away with trying to break into my house.

Well that didn’t happen.

Marlee came outside ten minutes later, to bring me inside for dinner. She found me  standing overtop a dead body. He got what was coming to him, but of course Marlee panicked. She once again grabbed a shovel and hid the body for me. I guess you could say we are a modern day Norman and Norma Bates.

This time, the nosy neighbor watched it all go down. She called the police, and I was cuffed, questioned, paw printed, and locked away for that murder, and then soon after, for the other murder case that was still open.

It has been ruff, being on the inside. You only get one meal a day, and it’s Old Roy -YUCK! They are trying to poison us. You do not get any Bark-Boxes delivered once a month. The only toy you get to play with, is a cat stuffed animal that is missing its tail and one of its eyes, because every dog in the joint goes after it. Oh, and I’ve quickly learned to not drop my kibble in the shower, if you know what I mean. There are some un-fixed dogs in there, who like to thrust.

So yea, it has been pretty hard. I am trying to get out on good behavior. But honestly, I should never have been put in there to begin with, after all, those dang birds had it coming to them. Plus I’m a gentle soul. I only go after something if they are a threat to my mom. So yea, it’s pretty unfair.

Catch my story next month on Netflix, where you can hear all sides of the story, and see who you believe. Making a Murderer : The Canine Edition, coming to Netflix on June 24th. Tune in.




The Slobbery War of 2017

I’ve went to war the past couple of days. I’ve strapped on my uniform of thick black and white fur, my boots of white hair, and my weapons of razor sharp teeth and a bark that can deafen the enemy from two miles away. No, my bark is not worse than my bite – they are in fact equal, so I would not cross me. I’ve went to war to protect my rights of walking and I’ve went to war to defend my mother’s honor and to ensure her safety. I know, I am so heroic, but you can save the applause till the end of my ‘tail.’

The war was bad. The war was ugly. The war was slobbery and even bloody. I am drained physically, mentally, and emotionally, but that is nothing that a piece of cheese, a gulp of water, and a nice back rub won’t fix. I went to war because I had to.

Who was this war against, you ask. Well this war was against the pets that live on  Devan Avenue – The stray cats that sneak in to other peoples’ yards, without them knowing, and the dogs that run wild, never being tied back with a leash or blocked in with a fence. This is one war that your kids will read about in History class, about a decade from now, and they will learn that I was truly heroic.

So, let’s take it back to two days ago, when this war began. Marlee and me were taking our nightly walk – same route, same scenery. I had always noticed this stray cat. It was always crouched down, eyeing us up in the wrong way. It had a smell of garbage, a glare of hostility, and a tail of terror. This cat’s tail looked as if it had been struck by lightening. Maybe it was that way because this cat had been to war before. I figured that had to be it, and that this feline should not be and could not be trusted.

I had let the cat do its thing for about two weeks, but this day, I had had enough. He was not going to look at me or my mom in anger any longer. This world needed less hatred, and I was going to do anything I needed to, to make this world a safer and more loving place. I know what you’re thinking – that is honorable.

The cat was in someone’s yard – a yard that it did not belong to. So when my mom got distracted with a lady walking past her saying “hello,” I took the plunge. I went full force after the cat. The fangs were out, the slobber was flying, and the claws were raging. I got a few swats and maybe even a few nips in, but the cat was an equal competitor. He took his paw of knives, and drug it across my face. I was left with scratches, cuts, and blood. The cat was still alive, but trust me, this story would have ended differently, if my mom didn’t rip me away from the enemy.

You might think I lost that battle, but I can ensure you, that I didn’t . The next day, I walked right past that cat with my head held high in the air, and the cat, well he cowered down in fear and went the opposite direction. He would not bother me or my mom anymore, and he would think twice before judging others with his glare of hostility. I taught that cat a lesson. Yes, I got a few bumps and bruises out of it, but what true war hero doesn’t.

So that takes us to the next day, when two enemies of the canine variety attacked. Marlee and me were walking on the road, trying to avoid confrontation. I guess you could say, I was trying to wave the white flag of surrender. However, these dogs wouldn’t allow it.

Without being tied down or fenced in, and without being watched by the owner, the first dog ran on to the road at us. At first it started harmlessly sniffing me, but it soon turned to rage. It lunged at me with his teeth snarling. He swatted at me with his paw. I had no choice but to defend myself. We both ended up on our hind legs, in a fist fight. He pushed me over on to my back, but I jumped right back up. I would have gotten a flip in myself, if the owner of the other dog didn’t finally control his canine and drag him away from Marlee and me, apologizing to us in the process.

It wasn’t even five steps later, that another dog, a German Shepherd, came running at Marlee full force, with his fangs out and growling uncontrollably. Marlee was terrified. She thought she was about to be attacked. She stood completely still on the road, paralyzed by fear. She pulled me close and told me to sit down. I obeyed, but I knew if that dog came any closer to Marlee, that I would have to defend her. It was my job to keep her safe. All I could do in that moment was growl back and show the dog my teeth. I wanted him to know that I would do anything to protect myself and my mom.

Marlee started screaming. She yelled, “Please someone get this dog. It’s going to attack me!” The dog’s owner finally came out of the house and grabbed the dog, once again apologizing. However, it was too late. Marlee was not physically harmed, but she was scared, and that was not okay with me.

We walked back to the house, and she started crying. Not only was she shaken up because of what had almost happened, but she felt like everything that had happened the past two days were her fault.

I licked her face, to ensure her, it was not her. She was the best owner a dog could want.

We took away three lessons from these events. 1) Always make sure your dog is leashed, fenced in, or controlled. If they are not, they could run out and attack an innocent dog or human just trying to harmlessly take a walk. Leash laws in Pennsylvania are there for a reason. 2) If a dog runs out at you, try and stay calm. I know it is difficult, but it will help to calm the situation down. 3) We obviously need to find another walking route. It’s unfortunate, but has to be done. I don’t want myself or my mom getting hurt by another animal, and when I feel threatened and want to protect Marlee, I am too big and too strong for her to pull back easily.

So yea, it has been an eventful two days.

I went to war. I got bloody. I got hurt, but I also protected my mom. After all, that is my job, and I would go to war with any animal to ensure her safety.

Now, you may cue the applause.



He Didn’t Need His Eyes to Love Me. 

My owner could not see me, but he could feel me. 

He could feel me pull him forward when the pedestrian walk light turned on to cross the street. He could feel me pull him left, to head over to his favorite coffee shop for his morning bagel and latte. He could feel me pull him right, when it was time to go back home. 

I was my master’s eyes. He relied on me to keep him safe. To direct his way. To make sure he got from place to place on time and unharmed. It was a tough job, but I was glad to do it.

However, I wasn’t only there for guidance, I was there to comfort. I was there to show him love and dedication also. 

So once again I say : my owner could not see me, but he could feel me. 

He could feel my soft fur run under his palms and fingertips as he stroked me from the bed, as he prepared to end his day. He could feel my tender licks, as I kissed his cheek or hand to let him know I was around if he needed me. He could feel my wagging tail to ensure him that I was content being with him and happy to help him. 

After all, I wasn’t just there for guidance, although that was my main job. I was there to be his companion – to be his friend. I was there for him to rely on. I was there to show him love. 

To me, there was nothing different about my master. No, he could not see me with his eyes, but he could touch me with his hands. He could kiss me with his lips. He could sooth me with his voice. He could see me with his soul. He didn’t need his eyes to love me. 

I wasn’t just there to guide him. I was there to show him unconditional love, and in return, I got unconditional love back. 

Today is National Guide Dog Day. Isn’t it amazing that a canine is someone that can guide a blind person through every turn of their life. They are truly spectacular creatures. 

Happy National Guide Dog Day! Your jobs are tough, but you are appreciated and loved. 

Air-Bagging, Tea-Bagging, Poop-Bagging 

Today, I want to take you back to the first day we brought Duke home. Well actually, I want to take you back to the first 30 minutes we brought Duke home. 

No, this is not a sappy, lovey dovey post. This post, my friends, is all about humor and a whole lot of laughter. And after my last post, the mood could be lightened up a bit. 

We will start with the car ride home. Oh, what an interesting car ride that was. As you all know from past posts, as well as Instagram pictures, Duke absolutely loves car rides. He literally leaps in the air with joy every time the word car ride is uttered. 

Well, that first car ride home was something special and was slightly unique to every other car ride we have experienced since then. 

Duke naturally was nervous being in a car, going to an unfamiliar place, with people he had just met. We had Zach driving my car, dog father Ben in the front seat, and I was of course in the back, gushing over the fact that I was officially bringing a dog of my own home. 

Well, I guess Duke got tired of being gushed over, and decided it would be a great idea to jump over top the passenger seat head rest, right on to Ben’s lap, all while Zach was driving. A possible disaster in the making. I knew Duke was a little leery about us, but I didn’t think he had a car hijac and murder planned for the first day. Anyway, lucky for us, no accident happened. 

He stayed on Ben’s lap for about 5 minutes, before deciding, he wanted to come back to the back with me. Without warning, he leaped over Ben’s head and the head rest to get back. In mid air, Duke’s newly snipped, stitched, and swelled equipment drug right across Ben’s face and forehead. I bet he never thought he would be tea-bagged by a canine in his lifetime. 

Zach and I busted out laughing, while Ben was choking over the doggy pubes that he had swallowed. He didn’t find it as funny.  

After a 20 minute car ride full of tea-bags and almost some air bags, we finally pulled into our apartment complex. 

We took Duke inside the house, and then made another trip out to the car to bring the rest of the stuff inside. However, I forgot to fully latch the screen door. Next thing we know, Duke busted out of the door, and ran full force down the road. 

I just stood in shock, crying by the car. Like, I’m talking, Kim Kardashian ugly tears. I thought that Duke was going to run away or get hit by a car, literally 30 minutes after I had signed the adoption papers. Up until this point, I have not told too many people about this incident. I didn’t want people thinking I was a bad mother. 

Anyway, Zach dropped everything from his hands and started bolting in the direction that Duke ran. After I pulled myself together, I followed behind. Let me tell you, I was not in shape to be chasing full force after a dog. And I didn’t have my inhaler with me. 

Finally, Duke was in sight. He was standing under a tree. Zach ran over to him, only to have Duke run faster away again. We soon found out that Duke thought it was some kind of game. He got a lot of enjoyment out of watching us run like amateur track stars after him, only to start huffing and puffing uncontrollably. 

So this sherade continued for a solid 10 minutes. Finally, we saw Duke under yet another tree. This time when we approached him, he did not move. Only because he was squatted down in poop position. Hey, I guess he wanted some privacy. I don’t blame him. Don’t worry, we cleaned it up with our new blue poop bags. 

Zach let him finish his “business,” before grabbing him by the collar and leading him home. 

Yes, he did get scolded by Zach. And yes, as you can probably guess, he got hugged and kissed by me. What can I say, I was emotional.  

The mixed reactions to him running away is probably why it happened again. Not one more time, but three or four more times. Once, when Zach was in nothing but his work socks. 

But, we will save that tale for a different day.