Boston Terrier Rescue

photo by Nina

It's taken us a long time to reach this decision, but we finally have.

It's time to find another home for our Boston terrier, Chet Baker.

He has proven to be unruly,
destructive
and has clawed all our furniture.
He is boisterous, HYPER
sneaky

and fouls the air more times per day than anyone could imagine.
He interferes with my important work
and is inclined to be surly.
For all those drawbacks, he is not a bad-looking dog
except for the face, which we can't do anything about.
If you are interested, drop us a comment. We will entertain all comers.

Epilogue, April 10,2009: Well, I've gotten some emails from people who are catching up on their blog reading, don't think to look at the date of this post (APRIL FIRST) and absolutely cannot believe I am trying to rid myself of Chet Baker. Some in tears. I don't want anybody to cry over anything I write (unless it's really sad or totally heartwarming or hopelessly evocative) so I'm telling you right now: I have a 22 year old macaw who poops everywhere, chews cabinetry, kicks Chet out of his little dog bed, and has punctured me more times than I care to recount, and I haven't even come close to getting rid of HIM. As for Chet Baker, he's sitting pretty, squarely in the left ventricle of my heart of hearts. He ain't goin' nowhere.

Alpha Bird

There can be no doubt who rules the roost in my studio. It's the one who bites the hardest. Mr. Vise Face. 390 grams of pure attitude, barely contained by a tatty bunch of feathers.

Charlie's great joy in life is to horn in on whatever Chet Baker happens to be doing. If Chet's chewing a Nylabone, Charlie wants that bone. If Chet's on my lap, Charlie needs to be there, too. If Bacon's sleeping peacefully in one of his four beds, Charlie wants that bed. Here's a typical interaction. I'm usually alerted to such behavior by the scuffling sound of Chet's toenails as he play-bows and backs away from Charlie. Sometimes there are Roo's.Here's a dog, peacefully chewing a toy in his comfy bed. I think I shall overturn the apple cart. It is what macaws do best.

This is a nice soft bed you have here, Chet Baker. Very cushy. I'd like to have a bed like this one. But I have an ol' knotty Booda Perch. Tell you what. I'll take it.


You would do well to keep an eye on me. For while I feign interest in your Nylabone, I might just decide to nip your Tennessee Turd-Tail. Not right now, but sometime.

What are you looking at, batface? I'm not going to bite you, just yet. But you might want to keep it tucked in. As if you could do anything else with it.


You are correct. It is time for you to vacate. For while I have not used my beak on you since that one famous nose-nip when you were a puppy, I still could. And I fancy your bed.

Yes, rescue your toys if you must. I'm taking over.

Very nice. Very nice. I think I'll keep it. Mether!!! He is in my BED!!

Ark ark ark ark ark.

Mostly, I have a good life. But sometimes I think Mether goes too far for a laugh at my expense. And she kisses that icky bird right on the beak, and he does not even have soft muzzlepuffs. She is stinky and mean and I am going to call a Boston terrier rescue group and see if I can get a home where I will be truly appreciated. Because this has gone too far.