I am not the only cute doggie in the blogosphere! And little by little I am learning more about them. There is Mango and Dexter( Mango is also an English Mastiff. And there is Dusty (, who is also having a cute picture contest for his birthday.

And this is my entry:

Who can resist my crooked teeth? My I-got-a-cake-and-ate-it-too smirk? I hope I win!

Life Lesson: Take a chance. It probably will cost you next to nothing, and the rewards will be worth it.


I am Now a Documented Worker

Like some second rate dog I used to have to sneak around without being noticed. I was always worried that the truth would come out. That I would not be able to substatiate the claims that I was an English Mastiff. That I was not really a big dog. That I really did come from a good family and my daddy wasn’t just some “bootlegger” or something and my mommy wasn’t just another bitch.

But do you see the above paper? THAT my friends shows my provenance, my breeding, my family background and tree! That is AKC papers! That is what gives me the right to act like some diva, nobility, lazy, do what I want dog! It says that My name is Madigan The Great Barrington! It says that my mom is Madigan’s Annie Oakly! It says that my dad is Manseutus Madigan of Oz!

I am a great and noble breed from a great family and from great Breeders – Madigans Mastiffs! I am someone! AND I intend to be the spoiled noble dog that I am!……(or as much as I can get away with, with my easy, sweet, loveable/scamable people mom and dad).

And Oh By The Way..I also have this!>>>

Thats right a DIPLOMA!

and after all of this bluster, I’m not going to do any work, Whadda” you kiddin’ me?

Life Lesson: Diplomas, papers, breeding are one thing, but who you are as a dog is what is really important!

Big Ooopps!

Things usually come second, but you shouldn’t push it.

My dad almost had a heart attack – he found a five-inch linear drying drool on his Maserati. I wanted to tell him I didn’t do it, but my mom only sprays millimeter sized drool. He probably wanted to kill me, but he didn’t. I guess I still have 8 lives left.

Life Lesson: When making mistakes, pick ones that are easy to erase.


We would like other people to think we are cleaner than we really are.

I usually like my toys scattered all over the floor. This way, if I get tired of one toy, I could just scoot my butt over to the next one without actually getting up.  In this I am my mommy’s son. When my dad first started dating my mom, he was surprised to find a spaghetti server beside her bed. At first he was too shy to ask her about it, but when he eventually did, she just laughed and told him it was for scratching her back. And that’s basically the story of my mom’s life: seemingly random things close together, in places where they don’t belong, because in my mom’s mind, she would not have to get up. Life BM (Before ME or Before Meatball) was simple because my mom would at least try to be neat, and in exchange she got a GOFER – my dad. When I came, things just got to be too much for my dad. He basically gave up and just gets happy if he could find a non-messy spot.

It all changed when we were going to have company. My mom invited one of her aunts to sleep over one night and the house needed to be clean. They put all my toys in my crate and I had no access to it! There were no more wet towels lying around to lie on when I felt like it. My house was just boring space. The good thing about having guests is that they don’t stay long, so now I once again lounge in our messy, wet, lived in space.  I think I would make a good pig.

Life Lesson:  There is order in chaos, and chaos in order.

Career Options

 Hi. My name is Meatball and I have a human-food habit.

I don’t like dog food anymore. At least dog food by itself. Aside from chicken, my dad has to add an egg, or chips or sometimes even oatmeal before I even go smell it. In the beginning I tried to eat at least a little bit, just to make sure I do not go hungry. But after being spoon-fed the good stuff, there is just no going back. I refused to touch my dish if it only had dog food and chicken in it. And because my dad is a mush and couldn’t stand my going hungry, after a couple of meals I have some form of human food integrated in my meals.

My tiger mom thinks that if I am going to be expensive to feed, I should be able to earn my keep. She wants me to be a movie star as I have the looks for it, but she thinks I should learn a trick that would distinguish me from other dogs first. She also wants to try reality TV but she thinks I am too nice and not trashy enough for it. She hopes I will make money from blogging, but she fears this will happen when she is too old to appreciate it. If worse comes to worst, she said she will just dress me up, and put a can beside me.

Life Lesson: If you have to have a vice, try to get one that you can afford, so you do not need to bust a butt trying to support it.

Diverse. Diagnosable. Pack.

 If you think some people are sane, it just means you do not know them well enough.

We probably shared the same loony bin in our past life.  Hi, my name is Meatball and I have Anxiety Disorder NOS.  (Please see last blog).

If you get to meet my mom and dad for the first time, you’ll probably think that they are a perfectly nice couple.  What you will probably never know is that they both have Diagnoses just like me.

My dad is Italian-American.  He is inertia in motion.  Passionate.  Creative.  Productive.  He has a bucket list for EVERY SINGLE DAY and he gets upset when something doesn’t get done on the list.   He has such a great zeal for life that he wants to live to at least 120.  He loves to cook.  He designs and makes furniture.  He fixes cars.  He paints, writes poetry and makes artwork from wood.  He is your all around jack-of-all trades.  He also has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Anything and Everything should be in their proper place.  Maybe he needs this to keep all his stuff in order.  My mom tells people that she cannot cook.  That’s actually not true.  Under duress, she can probably cook, but not in my dad’s kitchen, she ‘s too messy.  He also has Seasonal Affective Disorder.  He gets depressed in the winter, and during most days when the sun is not shining, all because he cannot do what he has planned to do that day.

My mom is all-Filipino.  She is inertia at rest.  My dad calls her BL – beyond lazy.  If you want her to do something, you would need to explain to her, in detail why it needs to be done.  Then you would have to justify, again in detail, why she should be the one to do it.  She has a death wish, (life to her is just too much work), so she is not afraid of anything (except heights).  She is a high functioning Bipolar with Psychotic symptoms.  She believes she is the lost Skywalker, the  back-up plan just in case Luke and Leia don’t make it.  She is depressed because she thinks she has been abandoned, and she did not have a chance to fulfill her destiny.  She is strong in the Force.  She is practically royalty.  She is entitled to Millions of Minions, but all she has is my dad and me.  She spends her days dreaming of the time when the Empire would need her and put her in her rightful place.  She makes sure she is prepared, she plays Bejeweled Blitz almost all day to keep her eye-hand coordination sharp.

This I think is the purpose of my life – to make sure I keep them off the edge.  Make sure my dad relaxes sometimes, and my mom does not get herself killed too soon.

This video doesn’t exist

Life Lesson:  It is not just who make up your pack, but also what keeps it together:  Meatball, Munication, Mmitment, and Mental Illness, not necessarily in that order.


This video doesn’t exist

You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

I was born in a small breeder farm in Pennsylvania. There were 2 females and 4 males in my litter.  We lived in an eight foot pen where we did everything.  Outside our pen live the rest of my pack – 4 adult males and 4 adult female mastiffs.  Taking care of all our needs are our two humans, Tall Male and Round Female.

We led a pretty boring life.  My siblings and me ate, slept and drove each other nuts on the same 8-foot pen all my eight weeks of life.  We get our highs fighting for the most food.  We had no privacy.  We didn’t even have names.  We were just the puppies.

There were two toys for the whole pen.  We had to fight for the right to play with it.

This video doesn’t exist

We never knew sky, never knew grass, never knew dirt.  Just soiled sheets that gets changed a couple of times a day. The same old faces, same old smells, the same old pack. But we were safe.  We were pack.  We were home.

Life Lesson:  Wallow in your sorrow while you may,  However long it takes, it doesn’t stay.


What makes you happy also breaks your heart.

The day was like any other day. Wake up. Eat. Pee and poop. Take a nap, and repeat.

Right before lunch the adults in the pack started going nuts. Visitors!  All the adults rushed out, wanting to be petted.

The humans who came were not even scary looking. They were smaller and  younger than our humans. Their voices sounded kind.  We were so excited when they came and petted us too!  They smelled nice. Different.

I should have known trouble was brewing when the female human who usually gives us food picked me up and started hugging and kissing me.  I loved the attention because she has never singled me out before.  I felt so special because my sisters did not get the same treatment.  I had always thought of myself as just part of everybody else, like everybody else.  Getting the spotlight felt good!  But it didn’t stop there.  The human male also took me and hugged me and kissed me. Then he took me OUTSIDE.  I was beside myself with happiness.  I had never been outside, my sisters have never been outside.  To say that I felt smug is an understatement.  I wanted to dance in front of my sisters to let them know how lucky I was!

Then BAM!  I was at the visitor’s lap and the farm disappeared.  Our humans disappeared, the adults disappeared. I was with the two human visitors and we were moving fast.  The one who carried me kept hugging and petting me. I think I liked the feeling because it was new and the sights and smells are new but I felt very scared too.  After hours of this exhilarating, terrifying ride, I am finally here.

Now I am just tired, scared, and lonely.

Life Lesson: Be wary when humans are too nice. They are probably up to something!