indisputable proof that bulldogs are completely mizz.

this feature in the new york times proves once and for all what most of us have always known:

In January 2009, Adam Goldfarb of the Humane Society of the United States told The Augusta Chronicle that bulldogs, often referred to as English bulldogs, are the “poster child for breeding gone awry.” The article came in response to a scathing British documentary, “Pedigree Dogs Exposed,” that highlighted the health and welfare problems of purebred dogs and claimed that breeders and the Kennel Club (the British equivalent of the American Kennel Club) were in denial about the extent of the problem.
...
“There is little doubt that the anatomy of the English bulldog has considerable capacity to cause suffering,” Dr. Nicola Rooney and Dr. David Sargan concluded in one of the reports, “Pedigree Dog Breeding in the U.K.: A Major Welfare Concern?” “The breed is noted to have locomotion difficulties, breathing problems, an inability to mate or give birth without assistance. . . . Many would question whether the breed’s quality of life is so compromised that its breeding should be banned.” (via)

it goes on and on and on.

Uga VII didn’t appear to relish his mascot duties. Unlike his father, Uga VI, who was loud and boisterous and enjoyed chasing after the school’s costumed bulldog mascot, Hairy Dawg, Uga VII seemed most comfortable in the back corner of his doghouse — or, better yet, outside the stadium entirely. A few minutes before halftime, Seiler’s adult son, Charles, led the dog off the field by a leash to a waiting golf cart. Uga VII hopped on, and a young woman drove us out the stadium’s back service entrance, up a hill, around some bends to an unspectacular patch of grass that doubles as the dog’s game-day bathroom. When the cart came to a stop, Uga VII bounded off it and spent the next few minutes happily sniffing the grass, urinating on a tree and defecating behind a bush.

When the dog was done, Charles ordered us all back on the cart. “All right, let’s go,” he said, and before I knew it, we were speeding back toward Sanford Stadium, Uga VII’s droppings (Charles didn’t pick up after him) a reminder to all that the world’s most famous mascot was here — and that celebrity dogs, like their human counterparts, get to play by different rules.

But Uga VII’s celebrity life would be short-lived. Six months later, while lounging at home, he died of heart failure. He was 4 years old.

bless his heart. smokey doesn't defecate, jicyww.

thx anonymous tipper (and resident animal expert)!!!