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Welcome to OBI's Corner

...every dog may have his day, but few have their own web page

What a presence he makes

obimid.jpg (52150 bytes)

a trouble-seeking missle

sleek and streamlined

made for mischief

spraying pee like the Pope blesses

whenever he gets excited

which is whenever we see him

Obi, a dog with personality to spare,

a canine Dennis the Menace

a four-legged Bobcat Goldthwait

sharking around with slobberous tongue

teeth at the ready for anything pliable

the post-Obi landscape littered

with chewed paper, stray bones and

Click Here for Online Obi Shopping!    Obi Illustrated

slobbered-on socks

Me & ma          Centerfold Dog!      My Resume 

hurricane Obi hath landed.

Ob' has the saliva of 10 dogs,

                  dogfood.gif (61434 bytes)
you throw his toys
and get the back spiral of spit


I love my master;
Thus I perfume myself with
This long-rotten squirrel.

How do I love thee?
The ways are numberless as
My hairs on the rug.

I lie belly-up
In the sunshine, happier than
You ever will be.

My human is home!
I am so ecstatic I have
Made a puddle.

Today I sniffed
Many dog fannies; I celebrate
By kissing your face.

I hate my choke chain.
Look, world, they strangle me!
Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!

I sound the alarm!
Paperboy--come to kill us all--
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

Sleeping here, my chin
On your foot, no greater bliss--well,
Maybe catching rats.

I sound the alarm!
Mailman Fiend--come to kill us all--
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

Look in my eyes and
Deny it. No human could
Love you as much I do.

I sound the alarm!
Meter reader--come to kill us all--
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

The cat is not all
Bad; she fills the litter box
With Tootsie Rolls.

I sound the alarm!
Garbage man--come to kill us all--
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

I am your best friend,
Now, always, and especially
When you are eating.

I sound the alarm!
Neighbor's cat--come to kill us all!
Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!

You may call them fleas,
But they are far more; I call
Them a vocation.

I lift my leg and
Whiz on each bush. Hello, Spot--
Sniff this and weep.

I love my master
I perfume his shoes
okay, it's pee
but it's happy pee.

Dig under fence--why?
Because it's there. Because it's
There. Because it's there.

My dog loves me
this I know
because my shoes tell me so
he's left happy pee on them.


Budja Poem

A sleeping budja,

lips squeeze from the end of his jaw like black toothpaste

paw pads huge

like fly eyes magnified a million times

coal nose with Nike-swoosh cavities

knob o’ knowledge tops his head

like a cherry upon a sundae

Budja the size of several small continents

a heft that guarantees attention

brown eyes squint then shut

fighting sleep

till we ring: “Brrrrrrinnnng! ”


8:00 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite! 9:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite 9:40 am - Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite! 10:30 am - Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite! 11:30 am - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite! 12:00 noon - Oh Boy! Kids! My favorite! 1:00 pm - Oh Boy! The garden! My favorite! 4:00 pm - Oh Boy! Kids! My favorite! 5:00 pm - Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite! 5:30 pm - Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite! 6:00 pm - Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite! 6:30 pm - Oh Boy! Sleeping in moms bed! My favorite!


Day 183 Of My Captivity

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.

The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.

Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was. Hmmm, not working according to plan.

I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird on the other hand has got to be an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time...


"A well-trained dog will make no attempt to share your lunch. He will just make you feel so guilty that you
cannot enjoy it." H. Thomson

"Won't be long means nothing to a dog. All he knows is that you are GONE."
Jane Swan


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