Rubin - the Dog with the Blog

SIN BIN

2006-08-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

This update comes to you live from the “Sin-bin”, where I’ve been remanded in custody by Terry after a day of total and utter BADNESS.

First there was the matter of Amber’s flowers. Well. Somehow during the night Amber had growed two flowers in the garden. Well, I don’t know how she did it, but they weren’t there the night before, and in the morning Amber was looking at them all smiley, so she must have growed them. Which was silly of her. I mean, they were right there in front of me – tall and obscenely orange. You know that thing people say about how dogs are colourblind? Crap. It’s just not true. If it was true, then those flowers wouldn’t have annoyed me this morning: I just wouldn’t have seen them, and if I hadn’t seen then, I wouldn’t have ran over to them and bit both their heads off before the orange-headed freaks knew what had hit them. Well Amber went crazy. Crazy like a LOON. She went so crazy that she totally distracted me from what I was supposed to be doing in the garden in the first place in the morning – the result being that I crapped on her bedroom floor while she was drying her hair. Well, you would have done the same.

I quietened down a bit during the day. Shredded up a newspaper while she was working right enough, but I reserved the real BADNESS for when Terry came home. Then I just went for it. I started making out like I needed a pee, so they had to keep getting me up and taking me out: then when I got outside I’d eat stones, sticks – even managed to pull a small BRANCH of one of their trees and eat it – anything except answer the call of nature. Finally they’d get bored of standing at the door watching me, so they’d go back inside – at which point I’d turn up and make like I needed a pee again. So frustrating for them! Finally they put me outside and told me to just get on with it. At which point the fat kid from next door turned up.

He turned up with a GUN. I kid you not. The fat kid was carrying a freakin’ gun. Well, what’s a wolf to do? Bearing in mind that it’s up to me to guard the house, I started barking my ass off. Then Terry appeared, wanted me to come inside. Like, no way! So I started running. I ran flat out round the garden. Round and round and round the garden, Terry chasing me the whole way. He wouldn’t give up, but neither would the Rubinman. I ran like that for like an HOUR, it was truly an awesome sight. Amber leaned out of the spare room window and laughed at Terry the whole time. He didn’t catch me: I’m fast like a JAGUAR. Finally I stopped to get me a drink of water, and Terry just, like, picked me up and put me in the Sin Bin. Hee, though! I rock!

The revolution WILL be televised. Also: blogged.

2006-06-09T12:20:00.000-07:00

People, I have looked into the eyes of the enemy, and the enemy is green, plastic and noisy. Yup, you guesed it - it's lawnmowers*. I caught one of 'em in the back garden tonight. Killed it. Well, gave it a good shot anyway, I don't think THIS dude'll be back in a hurry:

Now, I don't want yoos all worryin' about this "lawnmower" situation. With the Rubinman in charge, we WILL defeat these plastic beasts. And it is totally NOT TRUE to say that after I seen the "lawnmower" I ran away and hid under my bed, and anyone who says that is a LIAR. So there.

*Why do I hate the lawnmowers so much? WHY? I mean, it's not like it's the freakin' POSTMAN or somethin'. God, sometimes I confuse even myself, you know...

Technorati:bichon frise

Dogs in Vans = Baaaad Boys

2006-06-08T05:36:00.000-07:00

We have new people next door. There's some guy who looks like Harry Potter, and there's a fat kid who's scared of me. Hee! I mean, I can't blame him really - I can be quite terrifying until you get to know me. You only have to look at me. Anyway, as soon as they moved in I went into the back garden and barked at them, let them know who's boss. It's best they start off knowing there's a WOLF next door...

So anyways, took Amber for a quick walk at lunchtime today because quite frankly she could be doing with the exercise, but god, what a nightmare...

We got to the end of the street. Everything was fine, Amber was safely attached to the string-thing, I'm having a good smell of everything. On the corner of the street was a van. In the driver's seat of the van was a dog. A HUGE dog. It was, like, the size of a BEAR or something. Well, as soon as it seen me, it went for me. It was barking, slobbering, throwing itself against the window, everything. What a freakin CLOWN! Hee! It obvioulsy felt really threatened by me, which is understandable, I mean, you only need to look at me...

Anyway, I may not know much, but I know that dogs who drive VANS are bad news. To start with I was like, "bring it on pal", but I had to think about Amber - I mean, I'd have happily taken it on, but Amber would have been scared (in fact, she looked quite scared anyway) so I did the only thing I could do in the circumstances - I turned and RAN. I turned and ran right into a WALL.

God, how embarrassing. I'm sure that freakin idiot was LAUGHING at me. Anyway, I managed to get Amber the hell out there, but our walk was ruined. Then it started to rain, so we went home. Amber was all, "oooh, Rubin, you were so brave, you're a good boy!" I was like, "whatever." But it was true.

technorati: bichon frise, dogs, puppy

Fresh, minty, Rubiny goodness

2006-04-05T07:01:00.000-07:00

In my time, I've often been described as a "dirty dog". Indeed, there are those who have described me as a "filthy dog", and still others who have called me a "BAAAAD BOY", or a "dirty wee b******d". But those people are WRONG my friends, for the Rubinman, he is as clean and as pure as the driven snow. I mean, I even brush my freaking TEETH:

I know what yoos are thinkin', by the way. Y'all are like, "no way is the Rubinman actually using that brush, he's just posing with it little a stupid sissy dog." But you are WRONG. See?

Ha! Watch me go! I hope this clarifies the whole "Just a dog" rumour that goes around about me, people. Oh yeah, you think I don't know, but let me tell you, the Rubinman knows ALL. I know, for example, that they are planning on sending me to "Las Vegas" for A&T's wedding, and y'know what? I'm starting to doubt that place even IS Las Vegas. It's like, I didn't see no Elvis when I was there, y'hear what I'm sayin'?

Anyway, just take note here: if I can brush my teeth like a human, you just don't know WHAT else the Rubinman can do. Just a thought for you.

So, not a lot happenin'. Terry still mad as a brush. He's, like, totally obsessed with my PAWS. "Give me a paw," he'll say, a few times a day. I mean, why? What does he want my paw for? "Get your own paw," I always feel like saying, but once I've handed over the paw he always make a big fuss of me, and sometimes I get a sweetie, so I put up with it. MAD, though. And another thing: what's with the whole "Sit - stand - lie down" routine that he keeps making me go through? I mean, you don't see me walking up to him and going, "Hi Terry - SIT! Now LIE DOWN!" do you? So why does he do it to me? Because he's MAD, that's why.

Smell ya's later, folks
Rubin

Rube Doggy Dogg

2006-03-20T14:01:00.000-08:00

Sometimes some of yoos all question how dangerous the Rubinman is. Sometimes yoos wonder if I really WAS raised by wolves, or whether I'm just full of it. To those people, I say this:

(WARNING! Parental guidance advised!)

Click here for mad scary mooovy starring yours truly...

Valemtimes Day

2006-02-16T11:05:00.000-08:00

So, got me a Valemtimes card. Ate it. Oh yeah. I mean, I'm a wolf, whaddya expect? I don’t hold no truck with Valemtimes cards, I just get them ate, and I get them ate good.

My card was from Rubina, my internet girlfriend. She is in "India". She loves me. On the card there was writing and this is what the writing said. It said:

WHAT ARE DOGS?

1. Dogs lie around all day sprawled on the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house
2. They can hear a package of food opening half a mile away, but don't hear you when you're in the same room
3. They can look dumb but loveable at the same time
4. They growl when they're not happy
5. They're great at begging
6. They do disgusting things with their mouths and then try to give you a kiss

Conclusion: They're just tiny little men in fur coats!

And then, after that she had written, "Like you my little Rubydoo!"

I don't get it. Do you get it? What's it supposed to mean? God, women are, like, totally weird. Anyhoo, also for Valemtimes Day I got a JUMBONE from Amber and Terry. Ate that as well. Then later that night? Crapped my bed. Ho yes!

Other than that, the main thing happenin round here has been me barking a lot and also me peeing on the kitchen floor at night, even although I totally don't have to because they take me out for a walk every night before bed. Yeah, you heard right -EVERY night they take me for a walk (and this is in addition to the normal walk I get in the daytime), just to try and tire me out so's they can get a good night's sleep without the barking and the peeing. Suckers! All that's happening is that I am turning into a total ATHLETE and I could totally run for hours now and still be up at 7am to bark and pee. Heee!

Smell yas later, dudes!
Rubin

No one puts Rubinman in the corner...

2006-01-17T12:50:00.000-08:00

So, let's talk about Sunday… Anyone feel like they maybe forgot somethin this Sunday? Like, maybe the Rubinman's BURFDAY mebbe? Anyone at all?

To be honest, I'm disappointed in yoos all. There I was, the burfday boy, three years old (which means I'm BIG now. Bigger than you for a start, so you just watch it, pal) and just sittin there waiting for my presents, and what do I get? NOTHING. I get nothing.

OK, I did get something. I got somethin from Amber and Terry, but, like, it took them until MIDDAY to even remember, which I think is pretty bad. Mind you, once they did remember, they did the right thing: they got right into that "car", they headed out, and they bought me stuff.

Stuff they bought me:

Two "bones"
Three "chews"
Like, about a MILLION "goodboys".

My Norma and John? Nothin. Still haven't seen hide nor hair of them two, and you know what I think? I think they're SCARED, and so they should be. They better get me stuff this weekend, that’s all I can say. They better, like, get me a car or somethin. That's three times now I've been slighted like this, and the Rubinman does NOT like being slighted, let me tell you. In fact, you know what I did that night? What I did that night was I crapped on the kitchen floor, and what I also did was pee on it. Ha!

Anyways, I thought seeing as I'm the burfday boy I’d give yoos all a little "Rubin retrospective" kinda thing (see, I'm the birthday boy, and yet I'm the one giving you stuff. I mean, that’s just me all over really). So, this is me when A&T first got me. This was just after I'd been raised by the wolves:

Look at me! Like a mental ball of fluff! I was, like, so small you could've just picked me up in your hand. You totally would NOT have been wise to do that, though, because I totally would have bit your face off if you had. Like I said, this was right after I'd been raised by the wolves, and those wolves said to me, they said, "Fang," (because, like, that was my wolf name. "Fangman") "Fang," they said, "You listen to us, son, anyone tries to pick you up in one hand, you bite their face off, you hear?" So yeah, that's what I would've done.

This is how small I was:

Couldn't even get up that "wooden hill" myself. Hard to believe it now that I'm so huge and fierce, but there you go…

This is how like a ~~stuffed toy~~ wolf I was:

If you look really closely, you can see that I'm not ACTUALLY a wolf. No, really! My ears aren't quite as pointed, and my fur isn't quite as dark, but other'n that, I'm pretty much a wolf all over. Even then.

So, yeah. Happy burfday to me. Buy me stuff, or I'll bite your face off. For real.

Rubin.

The Sheet Incident

2006-01-13T02:21:00.000-08:00

I think if I were to name the worst thing I ever did it would havta be The Sheet Incident. Amber had washed a sheet. It was white and HUGE. She spent HOURS ironing it, and she was complaining the whole time because she hates ironing. Well, I waited until she was just about finished. Then in I strolled, casual as anything. Amber started to notice a really strong smell of pee... She looked down... There, right in the middle of her beautiful, crisp, snowy-white sheet, was a huge yellow pee-stain. The Rubinman had struck again.

Well, I thought she was going to kill me. She was really MAD - and even more so when she chased me down the stairs and almost stood in the pile of crap I'd left at the bottom. (Note the word "almost" here. She didn't ACTUALLY stand in it. So why all the fuss?) After that I decided to quieten things down a bit, pretend to be "good". I did the odd pee here and there - mainly there, on the corner of the leather suite, to be honest, and I was sent to the SIN BIN for that. But I tried to be good. Until last week.

Last week I decided to reprise my "peeing on the ironing" act. She had been ironing Terry's shirts. Two of them. She had hung them up on a chair for Terry to put them away. Ha! It wasn't until he was getting ready for bed that he found the tell-tale yellow marks. I had managed to get both of the shirts. And - get this - by then it was TOO LATE for them to give me a row! Hee!

Also last week I pulled off my greatest trick yet. Imagine, if you will, that you're Amber. You've just come downstairs first thing in the morning to find that the Rubinman has, as always, left a big pile o' crap beside the back door, on the newspapers which are provided for that very purpose. You heave a big sigh and begin to clean up. It's as you straighten up from disinfecting the floor that something catches your eye. Something brown and smelly. Almost like a crap. But no, it's at eye level. It can't be? Surely to god it CAN'T be?! It is. There, sitting on the kitchen counter, right next to your bonsai tree and your fairy liquid, is a crap. How did it get there? How, for the love of god, did it get there?! In the corner sits the Rubinman, quietly watching....

I bet you're wondering how I did it, aren't you? You're thinking, 'small dog, high counter' - how DID he do it? Well I'm not going to tell you. Does the Magic Circle give its secrets away? Well then.

Other than that, here's a list of other BAD stuff I've done:
1. barking really early in the morning
2. barking during the middle of the night
3. barking really early in the morning ON THE WEEKEND
4. a bit more barking
5. some more barking
6. barking again
7. and a quick spot of barking
8. barking
9. I'm still barking
10. STILL barking
11. I've stopped for a quick pee
12. I'm barking again
13. And again
14. I WON'T STOP barking
15. Bite me.

Hee!
Anyway, better go and have a nap. I'm up early tomorrow...

P.S .
Also: got me a new bed. Ya like?

Crimbo! Totally mental!

2005-12-27T12:54:00.000-08:00

Wow. That was, like SO weird…

First we're at home and it's all normal (read: boring). Then suddenly me and my Amber are at my Norma and John's, Terry AWOL, and it’s, like, all stress, all the time. Next thing I know, Terry's back, and he's, like, brought all these presents with him, and he's all, "ho ho ho, it's Chrimble!", then he's all "Zzzzzzz, I'm sleeping". THEN we're back h0me and we've still got all the presents and I've got a HUMUNGA TOUNGE and new toys that, like, I haven't even had time to name yet, and – get this – my Terry has got a WHOLE NEW KIDNEY. That my Uncle John gave him. Like, how weird is that? I mean, if someone tried getting me a kidney for Christmas I'd be all, "no thanks, dude, you can buy me a proper present like everyone else does", but the way Terry's carrying on you'd think all his Christmases had come at once.

Terry = madder than a box of frogs. Confirmed.

Anyway, the main point of this entry is just to let yoos know I made me a calendar, and you can totally buy it and everything, and then yoos'll have pictures of me to hang on your wall every day of the year:

The Rubinman 2006 calendar

Happy Crimbo!

Rubin

red coat

2005-12-02T07:29:00.000-08:00

She made me wear the RED COAT.

I could not BELIEVE it. Every single winter this happens. Every single winter. (Note: one winter it didn't happen but, it's like, who's counting? Answer: me.)

I mean, how many wolves have you seen wearing a RED COAT recently? One wolf? Two wolves? Or maybe how about NO WOLVES? Yeah, thought so. The things I have to do to get a walk around here.

So, anyways, I get the RED COAT on and I take Amber for her walk, and as we pass this building site thing, I notice that the workmen are all, "oooh, lookit the little poodle!" I mean, I didn't think anything off it at first; I just assumed they were talkin' about Amber and, well, yeah, she totally IS a bit of a poodle sometimes. It was only when I heard one of them go, "yeah, lookit its little red coat!" that I realised they were talkin' about ME.

Now, let's just get one thing straight right now. I am NOT a poodle. I am a Bichon Frise, and let me tell you, there is a BIG difference. See?

Poodle:

Bichon Frise:

I just get so sick of it, y'know? I mean, here I am, fierce and wild, and they got me dressed in a freakin RED COAT and builders are callin' me a POODLE. I am SO not happy about this. I think someone's shoes may be in for a little surprise tonight, let me tell yoos.

Smell ya,
Rubin

Who's afraid of the big bad WOLF?*

2005-11-25T03:45:00.000-08:00

Yo, Rubinman in da house. Here's the thing, though: I'm totally NOT in the house. I haven't been in the house for TWO WEEKS in fact, and quite frankly, I am NOT amused…

Now, I'm not talkin about my OWN house, here. Like, I've been THERE – aint no one could kick the Rubinman out in the cold. No, it's my Norma and John's house. I haven't been welcome there for weeks, and you know why? Because my "Uncle Jerry" has been there, that's why.

Now, I know what yoos all are thinkin'. Yoos are all, "ah, that's nice, he must've came to see the Rubinman." Yeah, right. Dude is TERRIFIED of me. Like, totally terrified. Every time he's here he's all, "where's that wolf? Is that wolf here? You keep that wolf away from me, OK?" TERRIFIED. He tries to make out that he's just "allergic", but I think we all know the truth – I scare the bejesus outta him, and you got to admit, it's understandable. I mean, you only haveta look at me ->

Anyway, so that's partly why I haven't been "blogging" for a while. The "Uncle Jerry" came and there were whole days where weren't nothin' to do but pee all over the kitchen and on my bed. Last week I peed on my bed seven times. Seven. Hee! I also perfected a little somethin' I've been working on for a while. I call it "projectile peeing", and I'm like, the world champion at it. It's like, I'll probably be peeing for Scotland in the next Olympics or something.

I first found out I could do it one day when I was out walking Amber and we went over this bridge. Bridge has got metal railings along it, road down below. Well, I did what anyone else would do – lifted my leg and let fly. Hee! Imagine it: car on the road, full of happy campers off on their hodilays… as they approach the bridge they see the Rubinman up above, leg raised… Now we don't go over that bridge no more. Anyways, I can also projectile pee out of AZKABAN, my dog crate. I can totally lift my leg and pee and it lands nowhere near my bed. You should see Amber's face! (Note: sometimes I totally pee on my bed anyway, just because I can).

Also: that thing happened again. That thing where I go to bed and everything's normal and then I wake up and there's mental white stuff everywhere. Here's a little game for you - I call it "Where's Rubin?"

D'yer know what it is yet?

It's meeeeee!

Here's another (scarier) one for yoos:

Yeah, don't even LOOK at my ball. Especially not you, Unc Jer. I'll bite your face off!

MY ball.

And this one's for you, Uncle Jerry:

Smell ya later, dudes!

P.S. Norma? Don't say anything about me bein' out without my red coat on. It's like, wolves families don't even make them wear coats. For real.

* answer: My Uncle Jerry .

shoes

2005-10-18T05:32:00.000-07:00

Just to clarify here : I didn't know they were Amber's favourite shoes when I ate them. I didn't! I thought the last pair I ate were her favourite shoes? Who has two favourite pairs of shoes (Answer: Amber, obviously. The freak.) I'm not saying I wouldn't have eaten them if I'd known, but I'd maybe have gone a bit easier on them. Maybe.

Still, though - you'd think I'd freaking killed somebody! Amber takes one look at the shoes and runs into the bedroom in tears, flings herself onto the bed and throws a hissyfit. Terry gets all worried and goes in to comfort her, says he'll fix the shoes etc. (Ha! Like to see you try Big T!) Well, what's a pup to do? I thought it was the right thing. I was just trying to get their attention off the shoes and back onto moi, you know? So I casually wandered into the room they were in and did a crap on the floor. Ha! That shut them up! Well, it shut them up for about 5 seconds, anyway. Then they freaked out again.

Terry picked me up and took me out of the room, giving me the usual,"baaaaad Rubin! Baaaaad Rubin! No! NO!" as we went. Nearly broke my doggy ears. He put me in my basket in the spare room, where I adopted a suitably puzzled expression. Meanwhile, Amber's going mental in the bedroom - all over a pair of shoes. I mean, is it just me or is that completely weird? Terry cleaned up the crap (it was a really smelly one too, I was quite proudof it) and they calmed down a bit. Amber didn't speak to me all night though. Oooooh!

It wasn't long after that episode that they gave me a bath. Now, I'm not saying the two incidents were connected, but they obviously were. I mean,I'd done nothing wrong. There I was, minding my own business, out in the garden digging me some holes. Got a few minor holes on the go at the moment;nothing like The Hole, of course, but not too shabby at all, though I say it myself.

So I'm digging, running around like a maniac, digging again.Once I'd finished for the night I had a good roll in the long grass, got myself all covered in mud- it was everywhere but I figured I'd have a good shake once I was in the house, leaveit on the floor for Amber. She must quite like cleaning the floor cos she's always doing it, so I figured I was doing her a favour. Anyway, I come in, have a good shake and go and bark for them to give me attention.

Well, I got it. I got a BATH. What a nightmare, although afterwards, I have to say, I did look nice - all fluffyand white and they kept cuddling me and calling me a good boy. I got some of that doggy chocolate as well, so it wasn't too bad. Ah well, off to shred some newspapers for them. A dog's work is never done.

chiao for now.

Rubin

Matt

2005-10-06T09:13:00.000-07:00

Yeah, so as most of yoos all know, it's pretty much all drama, all the time chez Rubinman. Yesterday, though – and specifically yesterday during and after my WALK – was totally MENTAL. Like, off the scale mental.

Here's how it all ended:

Now, before yoos all start panicking, you can rest easy: it wasn't for me. Seriously, there's not a dog warden alive could catch the Rubinman. I am THAT fast.

No, the dog warden was here for this dude:

That? That's Matt. I know, it's like, "run, Matt! Run like the wind!" Hee!

Anyways, so I'm out walkin' Amber, as you do, and I notice this pile of fur lyin' in my path. I was totally going to just walk past it when suddenly it jumps up and it's MATT. Matt's all, "ohmigod, the Rubinman! I can't believe it's you, can I get an autograph?!" I'm just like, "Look, dude, I'm just hangin' out here, be cool, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Anyway, I go to walk on, and Matt starts following me. Like, totally STALKING me and stuff. I was totally handling it, but then, yup, you guessed it, AMBER had to get involved. At least she wasn’t wearing her feet wheels, that's all I can say. Amber takes one look at Matt, and she's all, "oooh, lookit the doggie! The poor doggie!"

True enough, Matt's in one hell of a state. His fur is, like, all totally matted (heh, 'matted'! Do you see what I did there?) and he's a MESS. So, he follows us home, and next thing I know, Terry's on the scene. I'm like, "coolio, Terry will get rid of this dude," but NO. Terry's all, "let's feed the furball", so they take him into our garden and they give him MY food and MY water from MY BOWL.

I could not BELIEVE it. Dude follows me home and then just starts actin' like he owns the place. I was like, "do you not know who I am?"

Anyways, the story hada happy ending. A man came in a van and he took Matt away – not before Matt had ATE US OUT OF HOUSE AND HOME, mind you. Totally mental. I mean, I blame Amber. She's just, like, a completely soft touch. Seriously dudes, it's like, any dog that comes along with bleeding heart story, Amber will totally take them in, then it's up to me, the Rubinman, to deal with it all. Crazy.

Sing it with me: Eboneeeee and Ivoreeee, live together in perfect harmoneee...."

Well, they did until Matt started makin' a beeline for my mikey hand, then I was like, "Ok, that's it, callin' the dog warden..."

n.b. No dogs were harmed in the making of this entry. Not even Matt, although he totally deserved it for eatin' my food.

horns

2005-09-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

So, growed me a set o'horns. Ya like?!

(note: there's still only just one of me, I just gave ya two pictures, so there's more of me to love)

Now, I know what y'all are thinkin. You're all, "Oh God, no! Is that some kind of a devil dog or somethin?" Why yes, yes it is. I am the madcrazy Devil Dawg (tm) and I'm comin to get yoooouuu! Hee!

Heh. Amber and Terry better WATCH IT now. See, my horns give me special powers. Special MAGIC powers - magic powers so secret that I can't even tell ya or I'd havata kill every last one of you. OK I'll tell you: it's the power to drive Terry's car. Every night I steal that baby and I go cruisin for french poodles.

Ha! I got you there, didn't I? You were all, "hmmm, well, he does have horns, now... I dunno, maybe he can drive...." Of course I can't freakin drive! I'm a DOG, fer crying out loud - what are you, stupid? Heh. Nah, actually it's the power to eat cats whole. This week? Seven cats. That's right - seven. I would say eight but the last one was kinda scrawny - kinda like the cat you can eat between meals without ruining your appetite, it wasn't worth mentioning. Seven cats, though, I kid you not...

PONKY

2005-08-29T06:02:00.000-07:00

I got a PINK DONKEY. A PONKY!

Actually, I'm going to just come clean: I got TWO ponkies, and the reason I got two ponkies was that the first one... well, the first one was an IMPOSTOR Ponky. For real.

I blame myself. My Norma had gone to "Ikea" with A&T, and she brought back this dude:

Now, I admit it, I got carried away. There was a rush to judgement. Soon as I seen it: pink, big ears, smilin', I was just like, "Oh man, a PONKY!" I couldn't BELIEVE it, and, well, basically I was right not to believe it, because it wasn't a freakin ponky at all - it was a RABBIT.

Yeah, yeah, I know what y'all are thinkin. Yoos are all, "easy mistake to make, Rubinman - I mean, who HASN'T seen a rabbit and thought it was a donkey?" Well, sure, YOU LOT could easily make the mistake, but for a professional like myself to confuse a rabbit with a PONKY - well, that's just shameful.

I mean, it's not the ~~Ponky's~~ rabbit's fault. By the time I realised he was Not a Ponky, I'd been throwin that dude all over the place, chasin him, playing with him - me n' him were like THAT. So I decided to keep him, and everything was cool, and then today... today Terry gets in his "car" and drives away, and the next thing I know, he's back with THIS:

Now, THAT's a Ponky for ya. That there is a REAL Ponky. If ever you need to know whether you got yourself a PONKY or a rabbit, you just check out this here picture and that'll tell you for sure. (And don't say I'm not good to you. Where else could you get free advice on Ponky-spotting? Only from the Rubinman...) I couldn't BELIEVE it! I mean, on Friday I had NO PONKIES and now I have TWO! I bet there's not a single one of you can say that. Obviously Terry had been Ponky-hunting. Who woulda thunk it? I had no idea he even knew where to find a ponky. Hee! I totally rule. Me an m'ponkies.

Don't even LOOK at my ponkies. They're MY ponkies. Rubinman does not share!

MY ponkies...

FREE Rubin!*

2005-08-13T06:05:00.000-07:00

Dudes, Bob Dylan has wrote a song about me.

This is my favourite bit:

"Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
It’s my work, he’d say, and I do it for pay
And when it’s over I’d just as soon go on my way"

Yeah. He totally GETS me, you know? Me n' Bob, we're like THAT. No one has ever understood me like Bob does. I mean, it's like, I'll do a crap in the kitchen, you know? But will I boast about it? Nosir**. It's my work, I say, and I do it for pay. And when it's over I'd just as soon be on my way.

I'm, like totally overwhelmed. I mean, obviously it was just a matter of time before someone wrote a song about the Rubinman, but I had no idea that Dylan was a fan. I'm thinkin of sending him the Purple Puppet as a token of my appreciation, but I'm worried that then he might write a song about the PP and take some of the spotlight away from yours truly. Whaddya think?

Anyway, I'm very much heartened by this development. With people like Dylan carrying the flame for me, I can't help but feel that soon I will be totally busted out of AZKABAN and this journal will be used as proof of my suffering. I'll be a LEGEND man. Me n' Bob. I'm just wondering who else will join the fight to clear my name? I'm thinkin probably Sting. I'm thinkin Sting will write a song, and let me tell you, if Sting does that it's totally NOT MY FAULT. So don't even say anything.

Actually, now I come to think of it, it's strange that Sting and Bob Geldof haven't been around by now, wanting to hold a benefit concert or somethin' for me. I mean, they did it for Nelson Mandela, and me n' him are in, like, EXACTLY the same situation: both of us wrongly imprisoned for peeing on the kitchen floor, both persecuted for our beliefs (my beliefs: dogs should be able to pee on kitchen floors; Mandela's beliefs: um, dunno, but probably the same), both black***…

Sing it with me, people:

"Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell.
That’s the story of the hurricane,
But it won’t be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he’s done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he coulda been
The champion of the world. "

* With every purchase. Conditions apply.
* *Sometimes I totally WILL boast about it, though.
** Except me, obviously. I'm white, but it's, like, the same thing.

"An innocent man, in a living hell…"

feet wheels

2005-08-12T02:53:00.000-07:00

OK, so I hesitate to mention this, but somethin's been buggin me.

It's Amber.

It's like, sure, she bugs me MOST of the time: take that as read. But lately...oh man... Lately every time we go out for a walk - EVERY time - she straps these stupid wheels onto her feet, like a big sissy. She calls them "rollerblades". I call them "Stupid lubbish feet wheels". Now, trust me, I know what you're thinkin. I'm thinkin it too. It's like, there's me: white, fluffy (still WOLF like, though), runnin. Then there's her: feet wheels, hair blowing in the wind, rollin'.

Yeah, we look like a freakin Tampax advert.

"Aiiiiieeeeeeee! Booooodyfooooorrrmmm! Bodyform for yoooouuu!" THAT'S what I think now every time I go on my walk. EVERY time. Stupid lubbish song playin in my head every time I try to take a crap. "Aiiiiiieeeeeee!" It has RUINED it for me.

Oh man, I have SO got to bust out of this place. It's not like I haven't been tryin, either. Like, last week I started to dig me a hole: I was totally going to burrow under the fence and bust out, but no. They seen me, and they were all, "Baaad Rubin! Baaad!" Idiots.

I would try leavin under cover of darkness, but of course they have me confined to Azkaban every night. Unbelievable. I mean, to lock a noble, wolf-like creature like myself in a CAGE is just unforgivable. And WHY, for the love of Dog? WHY? What purpose does it serve? I mean, sure I peed on the kitchen floor every night in life before they banished me to Azkaban. Sure I did. And yeah, there may have been the odd crap or three along the way too. SO? What of it?

Nah, I don't think that's it. I think they just put me there because, it's like, I'm so scary and stuff and they don't want me roaming free at night in case I savage them in their beds or something. Which, by the way? I totally WOULD.

I am SO breakin' free. Azkaban is one thing, but these stupid feet wheels are just the final straw. I will NOT stay here to be made to look like a stupid sissy dog. I'm not the freakin' Andrex puppy, you know! Uh-uh. The Rubinman wouldn't be caught DEAD lookin' like a sissy. No way.

"Aiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!"

Pepeman go home

2005-08-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

The Pepe bit Amber. I couldn't BELIEVE it! "Pepe, man," I said, "the first rule of fight club is you NEVER bite Amber, for hers is that hand that feeds you." He was all, "hello, pretty boy!" so I don't think he was listening. He says that ALL the time, though. I mean, you should see him with Terry! He's ALL OVER him. Terry's like, "Where's my darlin'?" and the Pepe goes, "hello pretty boy!" It's SICK if you ask me. Then Terry lets the Pepe sit on his shoulder, like he's some kind of crazy pirate or something. MENTAL.

Speaking of things that are MENTAL, I peed in my bed last week and Amber hit the roof. It wasn't my fault, though - the Pepe made me do it. He was getting all the attention that was rightfully mine. I just did what I had to do, and by god, I'd do it again!

Anyway, not long after The Biting, the Pepe went away. Now, I'm not sayin that the two incidents were connected, but, like, they totally were!

Buh-bye lubbish Pepeman! We all know you really weny away because the Rubinman scared you! Ha!

(p.s. I totally know what you're thinkin when you look at that picture of me, and the answer's "yes". Yes, my eyes ARE filled with fiery hate. Ho yes, you better believe it. Don't cross the Rubinman!)

One Purple Puppet to Rule Them All

2005-08-09T11:11:00.000-07:00

So, as most of you know, I have me a LOT of fans, and sometimes my fans like to send me stuff, like to appease me. (Note: ONE TIME this has happened. ONE TIME. It's like, what is WRONG with you people? Do you want a happy Rubinman or a vengeful Rubinman? Yeah, well, dig deep then.)

This entry concerns my favourite fan, who I will call "Margaret", because, like, that's her name. Anyway, Margaret was reading this entry, which is the one where I was all about the Purple Puppet, and Margaret was like, "Ha! Call that a Purple Puppet? I'LL show you a Purple Puppet!" And so she did. And oh man, lookit! :

It's a Purple Puppet! But better than that – it's THE Purple Puppet. The One Puppet. My Precious. That other one? The Not-So-Purple-After-All Puppet? That dude is SO last week. Now me and the PP, we ROCK.

Purple Puppet's all, "Lookit m'hair, man! Checkit!"
Rubinman's like, "I am NOT scared of you Purple Puppet, I'm just, like, shy or somethin')

NOT scared of the Purple Puppet! No way, uh-uh. Not me, the Rubinman. Anyone who tells you different is cruising for a bum biting.

So yeah, that's why you haven't seen much of me this week. I've been ~~hiding from~~ playing with the Purple Puppet, who is totally going to break me out of AZKABAN. For real.

Smell ya,
Rubin

Rubin from the Block

2005-08-04T13:38:00.000-07:00

Sing it with me: Don't be fooled by the toys that I got/ I'm still, I'm still Rubin from the block... Hell yeah I am.

So, the other night I get back from visiting my Norma and John, and all my OLD toys - i.e. the ones that AREN'T Purple Puppets - were waitin for me, and let me tell you, those dudes were NOT happy. They were all, "Rubin, man, you've totally forgotten your roots. You're all about the Purple Puppet now, what about US, the toys you grew up with?" Then they go, "we put you up there, dude, and we can totally bring you back down again, what are you without us, yadda yadda."

Let's just get one thing straight here: the Rubinman has NOT forgotten where he came from. I may be "all that" now, and I may have a Purple Puppet and a totally spanky red coat, but I'm still, I'm still Rubin from the block. Just to prove it, here's a little tribute to my homies:

This is my main man Buddy, my oldest pal and right hand dog:

Now, I know what y’all are thinkin. You’re all, like, “Buddy, he don’t look too good.” Yeah, well let me tell you, Buddy is WAY old: when I first arrived here in the 'hood (if you remember, I was ADOPTED by A&T when I was a mere 8 weeks old) Buddy was right here waitin for me. Amber often tells the story of how they were so excited about my arrival that they'd sit Buddy in my bed and, like, pretend he was me and stuff. And that right there tells you pretty much all you need to know about Amber...

Anyway, yeah, so Buddy... Buddy's been there with me through thick and thin. He was there with me when I went to Las Vegas, and he was there with me when I peed on Terry's shirt that time. (In fact, Terry? Buddy MADE me do that. It wasn't me, IT WAS BUDDY) I love my Buddy. Nevertheless, I still totally ripped his eyes and nose off. SO?!

This is me with my Mickey Hand:

My Mickey hand snuck into my Norma and John's suitcase when they were in the "Yew Ess Ay" one time, and it came all the way across the ocean to be with me. It's, like, a hand, and it squeaks. Who WOULDN'T love that?

Yeah, so this is Dead Head:

He, like, lives lives in the garden and stuff. This one time? I totally forgot that Dead Head was livin out in the garden, and I almost CRAPPED myself when I seen him. I am NOT scared of Dead Head though, because I am a WOLF. For real.

This is my PINK COW:

The pink cow is a mysterious, shady character. I say this mainly on account of the Time the Pink Cow VANISHED and was later discovered IN TERRY’S WARDROBE. How did it get there? Was the Pink Cow abducted by aliens? Did it walk there itself? Is there something Terry isn’t telling us? Dudes, we may never know.

I've got other toys, but I don't want to make you too jealous, so I'll sign off now. But remember : I used to have a little, now I gotta lot/ no matter where he goes Rubinman knows where he came from....

Rubin

I've got something you've not got!

2005-08-02T11:50:00.000-07:00

I’ve got something you’ve not got! I got a PURPLE PUPPET! Man, I bet you’re all totally jealous. No wonder I look smug:

(That thing right behind me, by the way? The CAGE? That’s what Amber and Terry call my “Den” and I call “Azkaban.” That’s where I live now. The nice, COW print bed I’m sitting in here? Just for show. So that Amber and Terry can pretend like they don’t make me the prisoner of AZKABAN every night. Muppets.)

Anyway, in not-so-good news, we have a GREEN THING living in our spare room -->

For those of you who've never seen one, it's called a "Pepe" and you get them from Terry's mum's house. My advice is to not get one, though, because they're, like, really, really annoying. A & T are always talking to it for one thing and - get this - it TALKS BACK to them. It talks complete LUBBISH, of course, but still... when it does it A&T look all pleased, like the Pepe's been dead clever or something. Like, big deal! I talk ALL the time. Yesterday I barked like a maniac for five minutes straight and what do I get? "Baaaad Rubin! Baaaad!." Hmph. I even heard Amber telling the Pepe it was a "pretty boy" yesterday. OK, I'M the pretty boy around here, lets get that straight. I do NOT appreciate being usurped by a Pepe. No way. Stupid lubbish bird.

Yeah.

hole

2005-08-01T04:42:00.000-07:00

So, dug me a hole the other day.

It was a great hole, you should've seen it - I may be just a little dog, but I dig a mean hole, I really do. So there I am, hole dug, chewstick already burried (one I prepared earlier hehe) and I go and start collecting my stuff to bury in The Hole. I get them all lined up nice and neat at the side of it: Teddy, Buddy, Freezebone, and my ball. I can see Amber and Terry talking in the kitchen, but they haven't seen me ha! So I'm just about to start getting my stuff buried, and I see a bit of The Hole that's not quite right.

I had to go all the way in to get it sorted (I told you it was a big hole) and while I'm down there I start to hear this noise...

So, I haul ass out of the hole, and there they are. Amber and Terry, and they're going freaking crazy! Terry especially; I mean, you'd have thought it was his Freezebone I'd buried. Like, take a chill pill, pal! They were both all annoyed, waving their arms around and making noises like those Sims Amber's always playing with. They wouldn't let me back near the hole. I took off round the garden, doing my "running really fast like a bullet on speed" thing to confuse them, but when I stopped, Terry had filled in the hole! I think Buddy and Teddy got washed after that as well, but I'm not sure. I've got them all dirtied back up again now, but I'm still quite gutted about the hole. Now they're watching me so much it's like being in the Big Brother house. Haven't had a chance to dig me another hole yet. But I will. Watch this space.

Rubin.

Hairy Bone

2005-07-31T10:51:00.000-07:00

Ha!

Didn't think you'd see ME again, did you? Ha! Y'all thought the Rubinman was finished. That you'd never see his like again. Well, think again, people! The Rubinman is back, better than ever before, and he is calling his followers to him. Ho yes.

So, did ya miss me? You better have missed me or I'll come and bite you on the bum, every last one of you. I have SO much to tell you. It's, like, so much happened while I was away, but at the same time, nuthin' happened. You dig? (Heh, I certainly do ;))

Anyway, the most significant thing that happened was that my Norma and John went flying through the sky to that "Yew Ess Ay" place they're always goin' to. Now, I don't know what this Yew Ess Ay is, but I think it's like, a big mall or something? Because, like, when they come back from there, they always bring me MILLIONS of stuff.

This time round they brought me a HAIRY BONE from the Yew Ess Ay. Let me show you what happens to Hairy Bones around here:

Amber gives me Hairy Bone. Note damage sustained during a previous round of "Rubin v. Hairy Bone"

The battle commences.
Is it just me, or does my head look big in this?

I, like, totally wipe the floor with him.
Note: it was Amber that ACTUALLY had to wipe the floor. The Rubinman is no one's slave.

Yup, I showed that sucker. Rawr!

Anyway, don't tell my Norma and John this, because I think they want to surprise me and stuff, but I think they bought me a CAR, too. Reasons for me thinking this: I heard them all talking, and Amber was like, "What kind of car did you get?" and John was like, "Chevy Impala" and Amber was like, "cool", and I was like:

I mean, I can't BELIEVE they bought me a car. Actually, scratch that: I can totally believe they bought me a car. I just can't believe no one thought of it before now. I wonder when I'll get it. Man, I'll totally rock in that there car. I'll be, like, too cool for school and stuff.

Anyway, yeah. I'll be updating this thing a LOT now, so y'all better keep checking back to read me. Remember what happened to Hairy Bone…

Ciao for now,
Rubin

Rubin FAQ

2005-07-31T08:01:00.000-07:00

Everything you need to know (and some things you really DON’T need to know) about the Rubinman, by Amber…

Q. What IS Rubinman?
A. Good question. Rubin is a pure-bred Bichon Frise (say “beezjon freesay”). He is NOT a poodle, although many people mistake him for one. He bites the bums of people who say that, though, so I’d watch it if I were you.

Q. Was Rubin REALLY raised by wolves?
A. He claims to have been. We bought him from a woman in Dalkeith, but I GUESS he could have lived with wolves before that…

Q. How old is the Rubinman?
A. Rubinman was born on January 15th, 2003. Be sure and send him presents. He’s all about the presents.

Q. Why is he always so dirty?
A. Because the Rubinman, he likes to dig. And pee. Sometimes on himself.

Q. Does Rubin REALLY write his journal himself?
A. Despite a lack of opposable thumbs, yes, it’s all his own work. *cough*

Q. Is the journal true? You just make it all up, don’t you?
A. Absolutely not! Again, Rubin will bite you on the bum for even THINKING that. All of the events in Rubin’s journal really happened. Even that time with the fat kids. That’s why we don’t give out our real address…

Q. Why is he called Rubin? Is he some kind of sissy-dog?
A. Rubin is named after Rubin “Hurricaine” Carter, a black fighter wrongly imprisoned for a crime he did not commit, and a man with whom the Rubinman greatly identifies.

Q. Can I write to the Rubinman?
A. Sure. Rubin loves the attention. His email address is rubin@writingworld.org. And before you ask, yes, he does check it himself.

Q. Will he write back?
A. It depends how much he likes you. Bear in mind that the Rubinman is lazy. Oh, and that he’s a DOG

Q. Can I write to Terry and Amber?
A. Well, you can if you want to. We weren’t raised by wolves or anything, though, so you may be disappointed. Reach us at info@hotigloo.co.uk

Q. Where does Rubin live?
A. Rubin’s exact whereabouts are a secret. Sometimes even to us. We can exclusively reveal, however, that the Rubinman lives in a Hot Igloo somewhere in Scotland…

Q. Why does Rubin pee so much?
A. I wish I knew. He says he’s “marking his territory”. We say he’s just a baaaaad boy.

Q. I’d like to meet Rubin, and pat his furry white head. Can I?
A. Seriously, dude, you’d regret it. He smells. You'll just have to make do with his blog, I'm afraid...

Q. I am a book publisher/film maker and I’d like to make Rubin a star. How much money do you want?
Well, how much ya got? Make us an offer!

Q. I want a dog like Rubin! Where do I get one?
A. A Rubinman is for life, not just because you saw a cute dog on some website. Remember, a dog like Rubin takes a LOT of looking after, and they give you a lot of cheek. If you like your house nice and your shoes intact, forget it. If you’re really serious about getting a Bichon, why not think about rescuing one?

Rubinman.co.uk. Because sometimes a dog's gotta blog...