My name is Tuffy, I blog and I'm pissed.

I can pout with the best of them ... although mostly I'm a fairly easy-going kind of Beagle.

I know I've not blogged in a while. There is a reason. I've been out-of-sorts, pouting and sulking, but now I'm pissed and need to vent.

Sometimes I smell things on mom after she's been out. I know that smell. It's the scent of dog, and even – oh no, sometimes the acidic smell of C A T! She's been petting and hugging on other dogs, even wet ones (although that does smell kind of sweet to me).

Mr. French is one of the dogs who she smells like A LOT!!!  Seems like every other day she's been around him.

So why didn't she just get a French Bulldog if she likes them so much.  Gigi is cute, but I think I'm much better looking.

Now you may ask how I really can tell. I have a nose, humans. I'm a Beagle, and Beagles are trained to be drug dogs, so you know that our noses are some of the best. I am not trained to sniff out drugs, and don't want to. Can you imagine me sniffing cocaine or some other useless drug that is of no value or consequence to me? I sniff food. I can smell a treat at a hundred paces. Usually pop has those.

And then there's Baxter.  He's even come to our house and he has the nerve to cozy up to her when she visits his mom.

She even got close to some big dogs at the Alaska State HOG Rally last summer.

I digress. Anyway, my feelings have been hurt because she (and you know of whom I speak) comes home from rides or visits with other people or traveling, with the rank smell of dog on her. It's in her clothes, her hair, on her hands. How am I supposed to feel? She comes up to me and tells me I'm her handsome boy, but then she's out and about with others. I should pee in her bed.

She also seems to like the dogs that hang around on the back of motorcycles flashing their fancy Doggles like they're movie stars or something.  Maybe I should get a pair of those.

Not only can I smell dog on her, I found out from her blog (cuz papa reads it and I sneak a peak from behind him) that she's even taken photos of other dogs. Even more insulting, her blog says that she visited a coon dog cemetary last summer. I saw photos of it, too. I bet she never looked for a Beagle cemetary to visit.

But at least she hasn't brought home one of these things ... talk about ugly.  Even my mom wouldn't love one of these.

Or these ... this thing could trample my butt all over the house.

And thank the Big Beagle in the sky that she didn't let this follow her home.  Maybe life isn't so bad after all.

Maybe I make too much of this. After all, she always comes home to me, I sleep in the bed with her, right next to her heart and she says I'm her heartthrob. But I'm still pissed so rather than peeing in her bed, I just lay next to her and pass gas. And I've gotten into some strange things so it's really bad. That will teach her!!