Our UPS driver Kurt saved this little baby! He was huddled up against the curb & terrified. Way to go Kurt! Poquoson, Virginia

Hello from Burned, Texas 

Clyde Hill Washington

One treat, that's all I want...promise! Caledonia, Michigan

Big doggie, Katonah, NY

Not a dog - but I was surprised to see this little guy at one of my stops.... Evansville, Indiana

Coconut enjoys visits from the UPS man. Today, she put on her UPS shirt and cap to greet her friend. Cary, NC.

Meet Ralph. He's a Bernese Mountain dog and he's this huge at only 8 months old! Glastonbury, Connecticut

Prison time is hard time.
Prison is fences. Prison is gates. Prison is orange jumpsuits, bad food, and days spent marking time on the yard.
While I am a firm believer in law and order, I am also a sucker for a sob story. Which is why for some time I have made it a point to stop every day and ease the suffering of this poor, forlorn inmate by offering her a biscuit and listening to her plaintive howls and mournful cries of the hard life she endures on “the inside” as an innocent victim who took the rap for a crime she didn’t commit and is now paying the price for a justice system that is utterly broken.
Her sad tale of woe is enough to bring a tear to the eye of even the most heartless cynic. The thin, watery gruel that passes for her nourishment; the total lack of comfort or shelter from the rain and cold; and the endless boredom and monotony that she endures in a life completely devoid of any comfort, love or affection would make even the stingiest driver reach deep into the biscuit box in order to ease her suffering.
But, shockingly, not all is as it seems. To the sharp eyed and observant delivery man, there are some “discrepancies”in her account that have caused me to question the sincerity of her story.
We begin with the watery, inadequate gruel that she claims she must subsist on. If that is the case, then who is being fed the generous quantities of premium-quality dog food that her humans regularly order and that are being delivered on a weekly basis by none other than yours truly? And how has she been able to maintain her plump tummy and sleek, healthy fur on a diet lacking in essential nutrients?
We then turn to her claims of lack of shelter and exposure to the elements. Upon the covered porch she stays on during the day sits another suspicious item I that I delivered; a deluxe sized, fleece-lined dog pillow with a telltale power cord plugged into an outlet. Why is it plugged in? Who is it for? Could it be that -gasp- she has somehow neglected to mention the inconvenient truth that the cold, hard boards she claims to have to lie upon actually have an electrically heated dog bed sitting on top of them?
We then examine the issue of her humiliating orange prison attire, and her desolate life of boredom, loneliness and despair. I have a very clear memory of delivering an orange, down-filled, rain-proof dog jacket, as well as numerous chew toys, fetching sticks, and sleeves of tennis balls to her address. Who were they for? And to add even more suspicion, there was also that occasion when I happened to be working late and drove down her road at the exact moment that the humans she claims are so neglectful of her were home from work and playing tug-of-war in the yard with a brown Labrador that looked so much like her that it could have been her twin!
Once confronted with these facts, the sordid truth emerges; I have been dealing not with a convict, but with a con *artist* who has played upon my sympathies in order to extract generous amounts of biscuits from me with the all the skill of a concert violinist. There is a sucker born every minute all right...and that sucker is me!
By Scott Hodges in Newberg, Oregon

Just another beautiful day.. Ft.Bridger, Wyoming!

The White-Goggled Pibble.
Long thought to be an object of myth and legend...dismissed by many as a mere hoax...this mysterious creature has been rumored by generations of superstitious locals to roam the lonely highways of Newberg, Oregon in the dark of night.
For thirty years I have plied my trade on these desolate back roads...always watching and always waiting...in the hopes that I might one day be fortunate enough catch a glimpse of this strange and elusive animal.
My long wait...has finally ended.
It was an ordinary winters evening, like countless others I have worked. I was in the package compartment of the truck looking for my next delivery when outside I heard the familiar pitter-patter of paws on pavement that heralded the arrival of what I assumed would be yet another in the long line of four-legged biscuit moochers to have graced my presence.
Great was my surprise then when I emerged from the back to be confronted...not with a run-of-the-mill Labrador or ordinary golden retriever...but with this goggled, ghostly apparition emerging from the darkness. I was awestruck. The fables and whispered stories were true! The White-Goggled Pibble actually existed!
Moving quickly lest he slip away, I tossed him a biscuit while grabbing my cell phone and capturing this image in one fluid motion, determined to silence the cynics who would otherwise discount my story as a tall tale. My years of patience (as well as the bribe of an additional 2 biscuits to get him to hold still for the picture) have finally yielded indisputable proof to the whole world.... that the Legend Of The White Goggled Pibble is true!
By Scott Hodges in Newberg, Oregon.

When the big brown biscuit buggy stops at our house, Zeus, Moose and King are always on their best behavior. Vinnie always delivers with a smile up at our farm, north of Minot, North Dakota

cacophony of canine con artists who cry out and carry on at the complete and comprehensive injustice of biscuit denial.
This fraudelent, phony, four-legged
feigner of famine is a perfect example of this flagrant phenomenon.
To hear her siren song of starvation, one would assume that it had been days or even weeks since her last feeding.
But her rotund girth and fluffy figure conspire to betray the duplicitous deceptions of this deceitful doggo. I am not buying what she is selling, and I am standing firm on my principles. Her demand for 15 biscuits is utterly ridiculous. I will not cave in to it. Its 9:00 in the morning, I know that she ate less than an hour ago, so in the interests of fairness and not rewarding her blatant manipulations, I will hold firm and limit her to a mere 8 biscuits. Because I *know* how to draw the line!
By Scott Hodges.

Augie the Doggie is a biscuit hoggie
Who jumps up in my truck like a big huge froggy
At the Milk Bone box he casts his gaze;
And complains he’s not been fed for days.
While I nod my head at his tale of woe,
I know full well that it just ain’t so.
Though his human loves and feeds him well,
All my biscuits have made his tummy swell.
The vet has warned that he must lose weight,
So fewer treats are now his fate.
He barks and whines and pleads his case
While looking right into my face,
He gazes deep into my eyes,
And subtly tries to hypnotize
Me into giving “just one more”
But I resist; I know the score.
Although he begs, I must say no,
He weighs too much; it must be so.
I must be strong; I cant give in,
Must do my part to get him thin.
His portion sizes must decrease,
The Triple Biscuit Days must cease.
No more are we buddies; I’m now just a bum
Who stingily rations his one meager crumb.
Someday I hope he will forgive,
For the healthy life I help him live!