...until the January 5th deadline of the Iams Home 4 the Holidays pet adoption drive. I blogged about this promotion about a month ago, after a close friend of Felicity Huffman contacted me asking for my help 
(Felicity is the celebrity spokesperson for the campaign... she's also the cool housewife from ABC's Desperate Housewives, plus she's married to William H. Macy in real life... and he's the great character actor who played the car salesman in the movie Fargo... I love him, but not in a creepy stalker way, I promise) . Anyway, to refresh your memory, the goal of Home 4 the Holidays is to place at least 1 million shelter dogs, cats and other pets in loving and happy homes over the holiday season (Oct. 1, 2008 through Jan. 5, 2009). So far, about 760,600 adoptions have been made, so there's still time to get out there and adopt a pet. You can find a participating shelter near you by clicking HERE!
Some have asked, "Bogart, why are you so passionate about this cause?" Well, the answer is simple. I am an orphan of the Hurricane Katrina disaster, and Momma and Stew adopted me via www.petfinder.com because my Aunt Susan incessantly emailed Stew pictures of several puppies on a daily basis. And once they saw my adorable puppy mug on the computer screen, that's all she wrote. The only fate worse for a dog than being an orphaned pet is being a pooch carted around Hollywood in a Louis Vuitton handbag by a celebrutard whose only redeeming quality is the fact that she is one day going to cease to exist.
But I don't want to get off on a tangent about Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Kim Kardashian, Jessica Simpson or [insert the name of your favorite vile, untalented, puss-filled festering boil on the ass of humanity here]. Besides, I can't compete against magazines like People and Us Weekly, that seem to exist solely for the purpose of celebrating mediocrity and Jimmy Choo footwear. No, pet adoption is too important and close to my heart to get sidetracked. In fact, a majority of my friends are adopted mutts. Plus, my friends who actually weren't adopted are still big supporters of it, so I allow them to hang out with me. Let's meet a few of my doggie buddies, shall we?
The handsome fellow seen sleeping here is Remington ("Remmy" for short), and he lives with my Aunt Dee (Rosemount). 
He's my favorite running buddy, and I often get to stay at his pad when Momma and Stew leave town. Remmy was adopted in 2005 from Sanctuary Plus Rescue. From what I'm told, his first owner got him at 8 weeks from some guy along the side of the road. He lived with his original owner until the owner’s job changed. He seemed to have good care and was being trained as a hunting dog (hence the name). When his job changed, the guy gave the dog to his sister, who tried to keep him but was unable and surrendered him to Sanctuary Plus Rescue at approximately 4 months. After Aunt Dee brought Remmy home, he immediately pooped on the carpet. But that has been one of his only accidents, and he's an awesome dog (and he lives with Sammy the Cat).
This cute bundle of furriness is my cousin Ole. He's much larger now, and he's by far my most favorite wrestling buddy. In fact, we're known to wrestle for 48 hours straight, only taking short breaks for water and to catch our breath. Ole was found on a cold January day on the mean streets of Duluth, Minnesota, at just 8-weeks old. His breed make-up remains a mystery, although Aunt Susan and Uncle Kermit are confident he's 100% cuddle and snuggliness with a hint of Pit Bull bad-ass tossed in to keep them on their toes. 
Ole was found on Petfinder at around 9am on a Tuesday, and Susan & Kermit met him about 6pm that same day at a dog rescue kennel. Two minutes after meeting they became a family. Ole joined his older brother, Berkley, a Bernese Mountain Dog (and my secret crush). Even though Berkley is also a male dog, I still really enjoy licking the spittle from his jowls. You see, we don't discriminate in the dog world, and you humans could learn a thing or two from us. And if licking spittle grosses you out, I'm sure you've seen dogs do grosser things, so get over it!
In Fargo, you can find two feet of ferocious love at Aunt Veronica and Uncle Matt's place. No, this is not a distasteful reference to Uncle Matt's manhood. That would be rude! I'm of course referring to the dynamic Dachshund duo of Theo and Tucker, adopted at different times by Matt & Veronica. Theo is the elder statesman. He was also found on Petfinder, and picked up in Austin, MN (SPAM Capital of the World). Unfortunately, Theo had been physically abused, but that hasn't stopped him from giving his new family lots of love and affection (
plus, he's quite a bad-ass if you mess with his squeaky toy). Tucker was rescued from a home in Moorhead (MN) that had violated the city ordinance on number of dogs allowed in a home. So, he suffered from neglect prior to entering a very loving home. I am going to get in LOADS of trouble for posting this picture, and Stew (my editor) will probably get his ass kicked by Uncle Matt for allowing it (I believe Stew has already been warned once by Matthew). But, the photo really captures the essence of just how affectionate these two fellows from Fargo are. Oh... Tucker's on the left, and Theo's bringing up the rear on the right.
My four faithful readers would likely claim that I don't much like Alaska based on some past blog postings focused on the absurd rationale used by some to "qualify" Alaska Governor Sarah Palin for national office. But that's simply not true. I love me some Alaska! There's no finer kind of bud than an Alaskan friend. In fact, I know several good people from Alaska ("Hello!" to Momma's cousin and her family... and "Woof!" to Wild Max, Kate and their brood). 
And speaking of Wild Max, allow me to introduce his pal, Sir Blue LeDeux. Born the runt of his litter in Kasilof, AK, to a successful musher and 20-yr dog breeder, Blue now lives in Nilichick where he amuses himself by chasing a rogue black cat, some lazy shrews, and the scent of ermine (which are highly territorial, weasel-like critters who mark their territories with a scent... I think... I had to Google this info). He sees moose in his yard on a regular basis but does not wish to see any bear.
Last but not least, I'm going to throw some Beagles together and see what happens. My guess is a yard full of holes and tunnels. Anyway, I have two non-adopted Beagle friends who support pet adoption whole-heartedly. 
Lily the Beagle (pictured at left) lives with Aunt Julie in Minneapolis, and I usually play with Lily in the summer when we go to the Bark Park with Remmy. Lily was purchased from a farmer in rural Wisconsin and has an incessant desire to hunt woodland creatures, like bunnies and squirrels (my kind of girl). And my Beagle cousin, Pepper, lives with my Aunt Dee (Florida) and comes from a locally-owned pet store. Aunt Dee tells me Beagles are supposedly good Redneck hunting dogs, although Pepper does not hunt (unless you count the hapless lizard that scurries across the porch within Pepper's sight). Unfortunately, I cannot locate the photo of Pepper I once had, but she looks like Lily except with black freckles on her face and body. And these two barkers have more in common than they know. Aunt Dee made a donation to Aunt Julie's Walk for Animals Humane Society fundraiser, so I guess Beagle chicks stick together.
I have many other doggie friends out there, so I apologize for not mentioning you all by name. Regardless, anyone with room for a new dog (or a second dog) in your home, please go to your local shelter and adopt one. You could even adopt a cat if you have to... I won't hold it against you. In fact, I'll still consider you to be a hero. Thanks in advance for your support of pet adoption!
You see, a Stewart is incapable of telling a story without wandering off on eight or nine tangents (thereby never actually completing the original story). Most of Stew's stories start out with "Did I ever tell you about the time in high school when I..." So, the stories are usually entirely made-up and always end one of two ways: 1) with Stew running from the cops, or 2) with Stew winning the "big game" by sinking a free throw with no time left on the clock. But one thing I've noticed about Stew's stories over the years is that he never gets the girl in the end... so perhaps they aren't entirely made-up after all? 
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