Blues-playing schnoodle has Poodle Bitch holding her ears

Poodle Bitch cannot decide if the schnoodle is half cute, or can't make up his/her mind to be cute. Naturally, Poodle Bitch admires all dogs equally, but cannot help feeling a sense of specific pride where her own breed, the mighty and noble poodle, is concerned.

Poodle Bitch is not so sure how to feel about Tucker, the piano playing schnoodle.



If in fact, as the uploader of the above video states, Tucker engages in this "piano playing" three or four times a day, Poodle Bitch is glad she does not live with him. Or, next door to him.

Then again, Poodle Bitch would not want to live with the comedic actor Ricky Gervais, either. But she does enjoy watching his antics on occasion.



So, play on, Tucker, wherever you are.

Poodle Bitch wonders if we would still love John Steinbeck today, if the critics of the time had done their jobs

John Steinbeck was a human American author who wrote several books that are famous. Poodle Bitch has only read a few of those books herself; she finds his works to be mostly pedantic and a rather unsavory mixture of sentimentality bordering on the maudlin, and romanticism of poverty ("Hooptedoodle," as Mack put it in the prologue to Sweet Thursday). Poodle Bitch believes one need look no further than the first sentence of his short novel Cannery Row to discover what she dislikes about his writing:

"Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream."

Ah, yes. Cannery Row contains multitudes. Poodle Bitch understands.

That said, Poodle Bitch does enjoy some of his works. Of Mice and Men was a fine book, and Tortilla Flat had some interesting details and genuine humor. And then, there is Travels with Charley.

Naturally, Poodle Bitch enjoys reading about a talented human writer spending time with a bright and cheerful poodle, even if that poodle is standard. Mr. Steinbeck clearly understands the bonds that exist between humans and dogs:
It is my experience that in some areas Charley is more intelligent that I am, but in others he is abysmally ignorant. He can't read, can't drive a car, and has no grasp of mathematics. But in his own field of endeavor, which he is now practicing, the slow, imperial smelling over and anointing on an area, he has no peer. Of course his horizons are limited, but how wide are mine?

And so Poodle Bitch was mildly disturbed to learn that the book Travels with Charley, which she had been given to believe was mostly nonfiction, might in fact be heavily fictionalized.

A huge commercial success from the day it hit bookstands, Travels With Charley in Search of America was touted and marketed as the true account of Steinbeck’s solo journey. It stayed on the New York Times nonfiction bestseller list for a year, and its commercial and cultural tail—like those of Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men and The Grapes of Wrath—has been long and fat. For five decades Steinbeck scholars and others who should know better have not questioned the book’s honesty. But I had come to realize that the iconic American road book was not only heavily fictionalized; it was something of a fraud.

An author called Bill Steigerwald set out to follow Mr. Steinbeck's original journey with his poodle companion, and cross-checked the claims made in the final printed version against not only a map of the United States, but early drafts of the manuscript, Mr. Steinbeck's letters, and newspaper articles. The results of his research?

The more I learned about Steinbeck’s actual journey, the less it resembled the one he described.

As it turned out, Mr. Steinbeck spent more than half of his journey in the company of not only faithful Charlie, but his own wife. He also spent a great deal of his time in rather tony hotels; hardly roughing it in the wilderness. He also would have had to have traveled at fantastic speeds impossible at the time to have made all of his stops.

Mr. Steinbeck's book was originally published in 1962. In that time, readers and scholars have had ample opportunity to check Mr. Steinbeck's work, and the claims made within. Poodle Bitch wonders why it has taken this long for someone to do so.

She didn't think to do so for herself, because she assumed that experts in the field of 20th century American literature, in particular those who specialize in Mr. Steinbeck's works, would have done so. Poodle Bitch is hardly an expert on his works herself -- she doesn't have enough enthusiasm for him (as she stated above) to delve too deeply into his oeuvre.

Poodle Bitch wonders if that is the problem? The only ones who are examining with deep consideration are those who are the most enthusiastic. The fanboys, to use the modern vernacular. And those people have no interest in suggesting to the public at large that their favored author might have been less than honest in his dealings with the reader.

Then again, perhaps the scholars took it for granted that readers understood Mr. Steinbeck's "dishonesty." As Mr. Steigerwald points out,

Steinbeck dropped hints in Charley that it wasn’t a work of nonfiction. He insisted, a little defensively, that he wasn’t trying to write a travelog or do real journalism. And he pointed out more than once that his trip was subjective and uniquely his, and so was its retelling.

And:

From what I can gather, Steinbeck didn’t fictionalize in the guise of nonfiction because he wanted to mislead readers or grind some political point. He was desperate. He had a book to make up about a failed road trip, and he had taken virtually no notes. The finely drawn characters he created in Charley are believable; it’s just not believable that he met them under anything like the conditions he describes. At crunch time, as he struggled to write Charley, his journalistic failures forced him to be a novelist again. Then his publisher, The Viking Press, marketed the book as nonfiction, and the gullible reviewers of the day—from The New York Times to The Atlantic—bought every word.

So this was a matter of marketing and of a critical establishment that acted more as cheerleaders for a work of art than as genuine, detached examiners.

Poodle Bitch will bear this in mind the next time she laments the fall of modern movie/literary/music criticism. It has always been thus. Perhaps if there had been a "Smoking Gun" website at the time of Travels With Charley's release, the book would not be remembered today. For the sake of the poodle Charley, that would be a shame.

Then again, if James Frey can have his own "fiction factory," for which he is very well compensated, perhaps even the Nobel Prize winning (in 1962 -- the year of Charley's release, Poodle Bitch notes) Mr. Steinbeck could have recovered.

Denver the guilty dog: Trained in shame, and manipulating a nation

Companion animals are popular subjects for online amusement. The humans who enjoy these "viral videos" and "funny animal pictures!" find comfort in the anthropomorphizing of the dogs, cats, and other animals with whom they live. Poodle Bitch would like to remind humans that animals are not humans.

Which brings her to the latest "viral video" sensation, "Denver the guilty dog."



"You know the routine," the human says, 1:50 into this manipulative monstrosity. Indeed, Denver does "know the routine." Make the expression. That expression that gets the reaction.

Poodle Bitch never feels guilty partaking of sustenance that the humans in her midst have left in an accessible place. If the human in this video, the one who shot the footage and then set it to the weepy background music (the one redeeming factor in the whole sordid mess is that the musicians behind the song are getting some publicity, even if Poodle Bitch herself doesn't particularly care for the song), truly hadn't wanted Denver to eat the cat treats, he would not have left them in such a place as they could be found. Poodle Bitch does not believe that Denver feels guilt, either.

The human should feel ridiculous, perhaps even stupid. But Denver? Denver ate a bag of treats. Denver should feel satisfied, and most likely does. And, perhaps, smug, at the casual way in which he both manipulates his human companion, and plays along with his fiction.

Poodle Bitch notes that just a couple of years ago, a study was done that suggested that it's humans interpretations of animals' expressions that lead them to believe their companions feel "guilt."

During the videotaped study, owners were asked to leave the room after ordering their dogs not to eat a tasty treat. While the owner was away, Horowitz gave some of the dogs this forbidden treat before asking the owners back into the room. In some trials, the owners were told that their dog had eaten the forbidden treat; in others, they were told their dog had behaved properly and left the treat alone. What the owners were told, however, often did not correlate with reality.

Whether the dogs' demeanor included elements of the "guilty look" had little to do with whether the dogs had actually eaten the forbidden treat or not.

Dogs looked most "guilty" if they were admonished by their owners for eating the treat. In fact, dogs that had been obedient and had not eaten the treat, but were scolded by their (misinformed) owners, looked more "guilty" than those that had, in fact, eaten the treat.

In the "Denver the guilty dog" video, we clearly see the human feeding Denver not treats, but cues. From these cues, Denver knows exactly what the human expects. "Why does he want me to act that way?" he probably wonders. "Who cares? I am an agreeable canine companion, and I want him to be happy. I will do it."

"You know the routine," the human says, tellingly.

Nearly 5 million views on YouTube, and a facebook page with more than 23,500 fans. Denver and his human have a routine, and now the human has made Denver complicit in the manipulation of humans all over the country.

Poodle Bitch believes humans should govern themselves

Given the current economic situations in which most humans now find themselves, Poodle Bitch doesn't blame them for wanting to vote for new political candidates who represent "change." She would be surprised, however, if humans looked outside their own species for those candidates. Humans are the most arrogant of species.

Actually, Poodle Bitch does not believe that is entirely true. She has heard bad things about dolphins.

Regardless, she was surprised to learn that a canine candidate had been elected to a position of authority, however small that authority may be, in a place called "Annandale."

Running for president [of the Hillbrook-Tall Oaks Civic Association], Ms. Beatha Lee was described as a relatively new resident, interested in neighborhood activities and the outdoors, and who had experience in Maine overseeing an estate of 26 acres.

Though unfamiliar with Lee's name, the crowd of about 50 raised their hands, assuming that the candidate was a civic-minded newcomer. These days, it's hard to get anyone to volunteer to devote the time needed to serve as an officer. The slate that Lee headed was unanimously elected. Everyone ate ice cream, watched a karate demonstration and went home.

Only weeks later did many discover that their new president was, in fact, a dog.

Ms. Lee is a Wheaten Terrier Bitch. Yes, Poodle Bitch capitalized Ms. Lee's credentials because she is both bemused and impressed by Ms. Lee's accomplishment, such as it is.

She was elected to lead a civic association composed of humans who did not even require their candidates to stand before them and present themselves for any sort of inspection whatsoever.

Poodle Bitch is reminded of the classic Alfred E. Neuman campaign slogan, "You could do worse; you always have." Poodle Bitch has no way of knowing what kind of job the previous head of the Hillbrook-Tall Oaks Civic Association did, but she doubts that Ms. Lee could do much worse. The Washington Post article doesn't mention much that is done by the Association -- there are vague references to "ice cream socials" (Poodle Bitch wonders if Annandale is still in the 1950s), grumbling about speed bumps (do they actually place the speed bumps, or grumble about where the speed bumps are placed by the city government?), "annual block parties" (do they really need to meet more than once a year?), and a (losing) "bruising zoning battle against a Montessori school."

In other words, this is a small group of people who feel like they should congregate, but will not do so without an excuse. This would seem to be borne out by the following:

[Mark] Crawford had served three consecutive terms as president and, according to association bylaws, could not run for the office again. For weeks leading up to the election, he begged, pleaded and cajoled neighbors to run for the often-thankless volunteer post. No one bit. Newer, younger families told him that they were too busy juggling work, long commutes and kids. And longtime residents ... said they'd already done their time.

Poodle Bitch wonders if perhaps this should have been a red flag to everyone involved in this civic-minded organization. Either change the bylaws (how difficult would that have been, really?) to allow Mr. Crawford (Ms. Lee's human companion, by the way) to again run for president, or dissolve the apparently unnecessary group. Sometimes it is too much to ask for humans to behave logically.

Human beings have caused their own problems. They should not attempt to rely upon canines to clean them up. Poodle Bitch says, Let them plan their own ice cream socials.

Poodle Bitch wonders about human laws

Doris Muller, and some of her canine companions. (Not pictured: Rage.)

Sometimes, Poodle Bitch is confused by human laws. Case in point: This story, about a woman called Doris Muller in a state called Illinois. Ms. Muller likes companion animals. She likes companion animals a lot.

Muller, 67, love pets. She writes often to this newspaper about her views on animal welfare.

She also is something of a soft touch. A couple of dogs (one is 17 now) came from neighbors who didn't want them anymore. Three more arrived after her daughter's marriage split up.

"They became divorce casualties," she says with a chuckle.

After an adult niece died, Muller took in her two cats. And she also rescued a rabbit no longer wanted by an acquaintance.

Poodle Bitch applauds Ms. Muller's dedication to helping animals that might otherwise be left to roam alone, or victimized by the state. So far, the story is a heartwarming one. Poodle Bitch likes to hear about such things. Unfortunately, the story of Ms. Muller and her animal companions takes a strange and frustrating turn:

Two don't get along: Rage, a 75-pound Treeing Walker Coonhound; and Rusty, a 55-pound mutt. So Miller keeps them away from each other.

Recently, though, she made a mistake: She accidentally let the pair of pooches in the same area. And they started to go after each other.

"That was stupid of me," she says. " ... That wasn't the dogs' fault."

Muller - 5-foot-3, 140 pounds - got them apart right away. So there wasn't much of a fight. She says neither sustained a puncture wound.

As for Muller, she got a sprained wrist from pulling the two apart. And Rage's teeth left a scratch on her wrist.

"It was no big deal," she says.

When Ms. Muller went to the hospital to have her scratch checked, she was told that the incident would have to be reported to local animal control. In the eyes of the law, it seems, a "scratch" is the same as a "bite." And a "bite" is a "bite," whether it's the human companion of said animal, or a complete stranger.

A county animal-control officer arrived at her home with quarantine notice for Rage, the wrist-scratching hound. After a bite, if a domestic animal has not been vaccinated for rabies, it must be kept at a vet or animal shelter for 10 days, says Lauren Malmberg, the county's animal-control director. But a pet with a rabies tag can be kept at home, then taken to a vet for inspection after 10 days.

"Basically, if it's alive it doesn't have rabies, because (with rabies) they'll die in three or four days," Malmberg says.

Muller did as directed with Rage, and her vet pronounced the dog rabies-free - as expected. That cost Muller $45.

Poodle Bitch notes that, because Ms. Muller has at least eight companion animals, she must register herself with the state, which charges her $10 per year for renewal. Presumably, this renewal process includes proof of the companion animals' updated vaccinations.

Perhaps if the "scratch" had been inflicted upon a stranger, said stranger might want to be certain that the animal's vaccinations are up to date. But the human companion of the animal should know. Poodle Bitch wonders why it is that the state was "forced" to act in this way.

Poodle Bitch wonders at the ways in which humans enforce their laws. There was absolutely no way the state could bend in its enforcement of this particular law, and yet, humans are given so much leeway in enforcing other, presumably more pressing and important laws.

Perhaps if Ms. Muller and her canine companion, Rage (and what a loaded name that is!), were more politically connected, there would have been no problem?

Poodle Bitch is unimpressed with Sonny the wonder dog

Yahoo!'s main page today featured a story in which was asked the age-old question, "Do you think a dog can read?"



To which Poodle Bitch would reply, "Of course a dog can read. How do you think dogs find the material about which to blog?"

However, after viewing the video linked from the yahoo! main page, Poodle Bitch feels confident in saying that, while she believes that dogs can read, she does not believe that this particular dog, Sonny, can read. Poodle Bitch encourages the reader to view the video for him/her-self:

Poodle Bitch will happily concede that Sonny "the wonder dog" could not be more cute, even if he were a poodle. She will also concede that Sonny has been well-trained, or is at least very eager to please. But she is unwilling to concede that Sonny can actually read.

Poodle Bitch wonders if Sonny's human companion asks her inane questions in the same order every time? She also wonders if she uses the same cards every time? Perhaps the answer is even more obvious than that -- Poodle Bitch notes that the human subtly lifts the card with the "correct" answer inscribed upon it, just as Sonny reaches out an innocent paw.

Poodle Bitch speculates that poor Sonny is likely responding to cues in his human companion's voice, and reaching out a paw as he's been trained; then he merely touches the hand that has raised slightly to meet it.

Of particular interest to Poodle Bitch is the sequence around the :35 mark, when the human companion asks Sonny, "What do you chew on?" When Sonny attempts to answer, wrongly, the card on which is inscribed that wrong answer (Poodle Bitch admits she could not read what was on that card) is pulled back as Sonny reaches toward it. Sonny then looks at something or someone off camera and then manages to select the other card, on which has been inscribed the word "Bones."

This is of particular interest because it would seem to confirm the hypothesis that the human companion is "feeding" cues to Sonny (as opposed to bones); it is also of particular interest because sophisticated humans provide their canine companions with tomato slices or chicken on which to chew.

Poodle Bitch has a message to the humans who exploit their canine companions for fleeting internet fame: If you're going to debase them in such ways, at least give them tomato slices.

Poodle Bitch wonders if the definition of "surprise" has changed since last she looked it up?

Poodle Bitch once attempted to watch "Jersey Shore," but she was unable to make it more than a few minutes into the episode. She understands the program's appeal (after all, she does on occasion watch VH1 reality shows -- or, she did, before they "evolved"); that appeal, however, is lost on her.

That said, Poodle Bitch is well aware of the exploits of many of the program's characters. How could she not be? She has internet access. She knows that one of the characters, Snooki, has written a novel.

Or, had one written for her. Or, collaborated on the writing of a novel. Apparently an author called Valerie Frankel had a hand in Snooki's debut novel, A Shore Thing:

She's Jersey-born, opinionated and not afraid to piss people off. But unlike Snooki, Valerie Frankel has read more than two books. She's also written almost a dozen, which is why she was hired to turn patented Jersey Shore-isms into a work of fiction. "A Shore Thing," released this week, follows a girl named Gia who spends the summer picking up Jucie-heads on the beaches of Jersey. Together, Frankel and Snickers have born lines like: "Yum. Johnny Hulk tasted like fresh gorilla" and "She could pour a shot of tequila down his belly and slurp it out of his navel without getting splashed in the face."

Poodle Bitch admits that the two lines quoted from the novel made her laugh out loud. Parody is not dead, and yet, look at what's being parodied.

Snooki.

Snooki was more than happy to appear on a program called the "Today Show," which alleges itself to be a news program, to promote the novel she either did not write, or collaborated upon, but which bears her name. She explained to the host of that show,

"I wanted to do a story about the Jersey Shore," she told Matt Lauer on Tuesday. "People probably expected my first book to be a biography or guidelines to be a guidette or something like that, and I wanted to surprise everyone with a novel."

The 23-year-old went on to say that she had collaborated with a co-writer on the project but had still written a substantial amount herself. "If you read it you know the first page that I wrote it," she explained. "It's all in my language."

The storyline revolves around two girls - based on Snooki and her MTV co-star JWoww - who spend summer on the Jersey Shore.

"It's pretty much like the show but you're reading it," she said. "So it's like 289 pages of Jersey Shore?" said Lauer. "Exactly!" replied Snooki.

So Snooki wanted to surprise everyone by not writing about herself. So she wrote about herself.

Poodle Bitch wonders if anyone is surprised by that?

Should Snooki's future Library of America volume include Valerie Frankel's name on the cover?