Happy Father's Day!

I don't remember my real father. He's somewhere in Georgia living the good life with his people. Today, I spent some time with my person father — Mr. Food Boy. 

He cringes when Mom slips and calls him Dad. I think he thinks that's uncool. After all, that's how the name Mr. Food Boy was born. He denied that Mauly called him Dad. Instead, she affectionately calls him Mr. Food Boy (because he provides the food). 

The title stuck. Mr. Food Boy says Mom is like a steel trap. She doesn't forget anything like this funny name. 

While Mauly and I tend to favor our original people — she has Mr. Food Boy and I have Mom — we do our best to blend our family. If Mom is away, Mr. Food Boy kindly allows me to snuggle with him on the couch. If Mr. Food Boy is at work, Mauly will sit with Mom on the couch. 

We're a blended family. Mom takes care of Mauly just like she does me. Mr. Food Boy does the same. 

I love Mr. Food Boy on Father's Day and every day. 

Forget the politics — Bo deserves a happy home

I was listening to all of the crazy talk about the President and First Family's new puppy, Bo. Woof. I'm glad the dog has found a home. A healthy, happy home is all a dog can ask for in this world. 

While Mauly and I aren't living in the White House, we have Mom and Mr. Food Boy. Actually, we are living in a whitish, brick house on the Texas-Mexico Border. We like our people. Really, it's LOVE!

I was shocked by the attempts to make Bo's arrival meet some politically correct story line. Many people wanted the Obamas to adopt a shelter dog. It would encourage others to do the same. But, Malia Obama's dog allergies put a crimp in that plan.

No shelter dog was found, but the spin masters in D.C. are making it out like Bo is a quasi-shelter dog. The fact is — the one that keeps getting repeated is — that the dog had an owner briefly, but "it wasn't a good fit." Sen. Ted Kennedy stepped in to arrange the dog for the Obama family. 

If Bo lived with a Kennedy or near a Kennedy or with a Kennedy family trainer, I don't believe you can call it a "quasi-shelter" dog. 

The origin of the dog seems less important to me. When a dog joins a family, the pedigree of the family becomes more important. I give the Obamas two paws up, because they made a commitment to get a dog — to get their Bo. The family researched the dog. The family will walk and love their dog. 

Mom and Mr. Food Boy feed us, but I'm not sure how that will work in the White House. I'm sure there will be other people, who will help the family care for Bo. I'm just happy for Bo.

Forget the politics. Every dog deserves a happy home with a good family. 

Woof Woof Easter

Mauly and I got a first-hand look at some Easter Eggs this morning. Happy Easter.

Mr. Food Boy tried to make them last night, but Mom was exhausted. Funny, how getting up at 4 a.m. seems to suck the life out of her.

The Georgia relatives left at 5 a.m. on Saturday. Mom stayed up to do laundry, etc. while they were driving to the airport in San Antonio.

Mr. Food Boy had intended to color the eggs with my human cousin Rosa, but he forgot! Or, was it that he didn't find the dye until Saturday afternoon.

Either way, we had a great visit with the relatives and preparation is already under way for the Iowa and Massachusett relatives. They arrive in a week and a half.

Mauly and I really miss Rosa. She played with us. She petted us. She let us both sit in her lap (and that's a real struggle with Mauly since they are essentially the same size -- give or take three pounds). She let us sniff her. She even let us lay on her.

Sometimes, it's difficult to find humans, who really get us. Rosa did. We'll miss her, but she had to return to class. This thing our people call "Spring Break" apparently doesn't last forever.

We'll remember the visit and look forward to the next time Rosa visits.

We welcome (almost) all to our pack

Today, I found a great treat while doing my daily surf of top headlines. I found an article about how to introduce your dogs to the new baby. This is an important one to me since Mom and Mr. Food Boy have been discussing this lately.

Mauly has been on Mom's watch list since, there was a profile on her breed. The TV show wasn't too keen on the idea of Mauly's kind and little children. We'll see if Mauly can prove that wrong when our human cousin Rosa enters our home this week.

The article I pawed across today talks about how important it is for humans to keep a dog's routines while introducing the new bundle of joy into the household. I know Mom and Mr. Food Boy have been talking about routines a lot just in preparation of company.

"Mauly really needs a walk in the morning," Mr. Food Boy said. The extra walk will help keep her high energy in check (they hope). Otherwise, she might be a jumping, shedding beast.

"Yes, I'll walk her in the mornings," Mom promised. I heard her, so if Mom tries to back out of the arrangement, I'm telling Mr. Food Boy.

I love my Mom, but Mr. Food Boy has been kind enough to take me on evening walks in recent weeks. I'm loyal to him when it comes to walks. On other issues, I'm a little squirrelly if Mom is in the room. No point in lying about it.

The best news I read in the article about babies is a reminder that dogs (that's Mauly and me) shouldn't be punished or banished from a room when a baby arrives. That just gives us more reason to be jealous. Make us part of the experience by letting us sniff the baby's stuff and getting us used to a baby's scent.

When Mom's friend Julie and her boyfriend Mark came for a visit, we behaved OK. Granted we jumped a little too much and we probably licked them a little too much. Heck, we probably rubbed, leaned and sat on them too much.

Mauly and I like to think of ourselves as a friendly pack. We welcome all human creatures into our pack -- big ones and little ones. Of course, we might sniff them, lick them and (I'll be honest sometimes, I get excited and pee on their feet.

Introduce us slowly to a baby (or new people for that matter) and we're just fine. Of course, rule No. 1. NEVER, NEVER leave us alone in a room with the baby. That's just common sense.

Who? Me? I wouldn't do that -- at least not on purpose

The news is terrible. Forget Mom and her yells about the stock market, this is serious news. A new study from the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reports that pets -- like me and Mauly -- are responsible for more than 86,000 falls in the United States each year.

The Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report said that 88 percent of the falls were caused by dogs and 11.7 percent were caused by cats. Mom read me part of the report. She highlighted the fact that half the injuries were from falling or tripping or being pushed or pulled.

Woof. Very interesting. I don't think humans should blame their dogs for these falls and trips. It's certainly not the innocent pets fault. Sure, I know Mom broke her glasses last year, when I shot between the couch and the end table. I was honestly trying to avoid going to bed in my crate. I just wanted to stay up a little longer. And, let's be honest, she didn't have to chase me. If she hadn't, her glasses would have remained intact.

Sure, Mauly and I both do it. Mr. Food Boy is busy in the kitchen and we decide to plop down on the rug by the sink, right where he wants to go. Sure, we're in the way, but we would never hurt him -- at least not on purpose.

Those balls that Mom can't seem to keep tucked away in that basket, they aren't intended to trip anyone. They are just handy, if and when we decide to plop down and chew on them.

Our early morning jumps aren't intended to cause Mom any harm. We're just happy to be awake and ready for a new day. Granted I look more like I'm bowing as I stretch and stretch first thing in the morning. Mauly looks like like she's hopping on a Pogo Stick as she jumps and jumps up with excitement. She's always ready to go outside.

While our family has avoided injury, the new report comes out right at the time Mom has been providing daily lectures. "When the family arrives, you have to behave. When I say, 'Down, you have to do it.'"

We are having both Mom's Family and Mr. Food Boy's Family visit in April. Mom is trying to get us prepared for the reality of visitors. She and Mr. Food Boy want us to remember our K-9 training.

• No jumping.
• No couch. Mauly will be moved to her ottoman and I will be lucky to get a willing lap when the family members arrive.
• Be gentle. We have young children (Rosa and Scott) visiting us and older people (our human grandparents, who are in various stages of recovery from surgery and discovery -- meaning we're not sure what the diagnosis is yet.

We're all excited about having guests in Del Rio. Family makes everyone happy and travel helps the economy, right? This has to be good. It's also nice to show family members a little piece of the neighborhood.

Mauly and I can't wait to show everyone all the animals we see during our nightly walks. There are eating goats, galloping horses, standing cows, barking dogs, singing birds and sitting rabbits. The deer are everywhere, so I'm not sure they count. Mauly likes to point -- it's a hunting technique used for birds -- at Cow, her friend and at the goats. I like to chase bunny rabbits and bark ferociously at other dogs. Mom scolds me for it, but the other dogs started it.

We'll be on our best behavior. Cross our paws over our hearts. Mom has already told us there will be trouble, if we misbehave (which typically means it's time out in the crate).

A Dog and Cow friendship

While Cow and Chicken have a cartoon, Mauly and Cow have a real-life relationship.

Mom says everyone loves seeing how animals interact in unusual ways. There are news stories about elephants and dogs and cats with dogs. Humans tend to look at is unnatural or odd.

I don't think it's odd at all. We're all in this world together, so we should be friends. Despite my loud and annoying barks, I like to think I can get along with my neighbor dogs, the birds, those darn cats and those little rabbits I hunt.

Mauly found a new friend the other day during an evening walk. Mr. Food Boy and Mom let us walk up to a fenced pasture that contains a cow – a calf really. While we were peering into the wire looking at it, Cow walked over to us.

Within a few minutes, Cow was pushing his head through the fence and licking Mauly with his large, blackish tongue. "Remind me not to touch Mauly's head," Mom was telling Mr. Food Boy as she laughed and urged him to get out the iPhone for a picture.

Mauly, who has been growling a bit at fellow dogs in her path, was totally still and quiet as Cow licked her face. She even poked her head in a little closer through a square in the fence.

The next day, Cow came up to greet Mauly again. He did the same thing, licked her head, watched her, etc. Cow doesn't like me as much. Mom tried to plop me down closer to Cow and he jumped back. I startled him.

On Monday night, Cow actually walked along the fence beside Mauly. Mr. Food Boy decided we had been amused enough, so we "moved on." Cow decided to follow us. At the edge of his pasture, he stopped. He had no other choice.

It's nice to see how animals can get along (sometimes. Humans could do the same, if they tried.

AIG: There isn't much left to take

It seems to be clear now. We created a monster. Now that Mr. Food Boy is back home (and I don't have to protect the house anymore with my barking), I can turn my attention (and barking) to more national-level issues.

AIG -- can you give us all a break? We're struggling here. We give and you take and take and take even more.

I listened to the newscasts about AIG's plans to give some of its employees bonuses. The cost around $165 million made me a little sick to my stomach. The company has been labeled as too big to fail, but I like to call them too big for their britches.

My Mom was talking to the TV again on Sunday when the new broke. AIG told the Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner thanks for offering advice, but our lawyers override you. The AIG bigwig said there are contracts in place and the government can't do anything to stop the bonuses.

Well, Mom has been reading all over the Internet and the best point she found came from Robert Reich, former Secretary of Labor and a professor at Berkeley. He wrote a blog for http://www.huffingtonpost.com/. Reich said, "Had AIG gone into chapter 11 bankruptcy or been liquidated, as it would have without government aid, no bonuses would ever be paid; indeed, AIG's executives would have long ago been on the street." This man makes an excellent point. If I met him, I would give him a paw five.

The AIG bigwig also mentioned something about the bonuses help the company keep its talent. If this talent helped ruin AIG, which created a trickle effect throughout the economy, I say let them leave if they are upset. Financial institutions are hemorrhaging thousands of workers each week. Add all the fresh graduates and surely, some new ideas can be infused into the banking and insurance industry.

And, why is it that the Obama administration seems to have its hands tied in this case? Wasn't it just a few months ago, we the American people and dogs were promised that accountability would be in place and that executive compensation would be in check?

Apparently that plan fell through the cracks. AIG was offered another $30 billion a few weeks ago and now officials are working to add strings to the money. Strings should have been attached to the $30 billion before it was promised to the company.

I know I'm just a dog, but this all gets so confusing. I don't even understand why bonuses are being discussed by a company losing money. AIG reportedly lost billions in the last quarter of 2008. Why would anyone sign a contract with an employee to give him a bonus, if the employee's performance wasn't excellent?

Most companies, well at least those who operate in the black, don't give bonuses unless the company is performing well. I thought it was standard to have a bonus tied to performance -- a positive performance, not a negative one. I guess that's why I live on Main Street and not Wall Street.

I hope the folks running AIG will realize there is very little left for them to take from the American people. Patience is wearing thin.