A Big Thank-You Wag to my PR aides

My sharp doggy ears received word that our humble 1-minute film garnered a wide audience all the way from Guang Dong, China to Down Under. A wonderful French fellow named Vincent Didier posted it on his blog amidst all sorts of interesting stuff from all over the world. ETTF and Inspiration Room are another two sites to add me to their choice selections. And the marketing folks are on to it too, apparently! I wonder if my human companions have seen these:

ADOI magazine, which is apparently very popular with the ad people who made the commercial

Marketing Interactive, which keeps tabs on the latest in digital advertising - so I'm told

Vincent Didier's feature starring moi; he also did a short write-up on his opinion of it. Wish I understood French!

Me again on ETTF.net, which covers everything under, over & on the sun - hence the interesting tagline of 'Everywhere you want to be'.

One of the online hubs for the gathering of creative minds: the Inspiration Room

As if that's not enough,the film also hit Number 1 on Google search...


Wet, fuzzy kisses and furry cuddles to you all.
I remain: the ever-charming, snack-stealing

DUKE

P.S Watch out for more news of my doggy dominion on and offline!

Before The Happy Ending : Part II

FOREWORD:
The below is a true account of my experience as an abandoned pet, of how I was reduced to a savage stray on the edge of death, and how the love of two human beings turned my fate around.

This is not here for the sake of being a sob story. Me, Duke the dog, do sob stories? I don't think so. But you have to know this - the world has to know this, if only so a few more abandoned strays have a voice. This is what you came here to know. This is my story.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Several times more we met: the kind human and the savage dog. I suppose this does not do anything at all for the image of the stray canine - feral, snarling beasts whose only redemption is a human being willing to sacrifice a few fingers. Whereas the truth is very different. It was a human being who had put me here. But it was also a human being who saved me.

Gradually I began to let him in. I would allow him to place the food and water in front of my nose; after a while I even began to reach eagerly for the provisions and lap them right up like a healthy hungry puppy. And then one day, while I was intensely and sloppily absorbed in my meal, he pulled me loose.

Clanggg. I felt the chains fall around me - and suddenly I was free. The mad dog in me resurfaced, but this time it was full of joy instead of anger. I was, pardon the pun, barking mad. I was out. I was free.

FREE! Without a second thought I bolted from my old prison and off, off into the open horizon. The air stung my open sores but I had no time to lick my wounds - I was free, unbound by horrid steel chains and starvation. I was a full-fledged stray out to conquer the streets. Here comes the hellhound! – full of pent-up rage and ready to rumble.

Of course, I found out just a few days later that life on the streets did NOT suit me.

Hell no.

What's there to like? Sure the thought of being a tough feral mutt who don't take shit is great (to a sheltered house dog anyway), but the reality is very different. Being a naturally affectionate creature, I soon found that desperate, starving sensation in my stomach returning. Not just my stomach; my whole body. All I wanted was to relive that vague memory of having been fed and bathed and groomed, and loved.

Then just when I was getting desperate enough to gnaw my own leg off to feed my stomach, I sniffed out a familiar scent. Confident, male, near middle-age. It was that of my saviour – the man I now call Richard – turning up like some blessed sign from providence.

And that was how my brief adventure as a failed stray came to an end.

My cloud of misery lifted, and I trotted after him like I was already his.

I knew I was going home.