Hello Newcomers!  My name is Magnus, but around here I go by Mr. Man, Buddy and Stinkbutt!  I'll be 35 years old this October (that's 5 years in human talk).  I'm a handsome English Bulldog, but I identify as a handsome and proud American.  My favorite games are tug of war and keep-away and I love getting new toys.  I'm friendly and have never met someone I didn't like (except for the lawnmower man, only becuase he pushes around a noisy vacuum cleaner).  I love my humans, John and Shannon and enjoy when they take me camping in their camper all over the United States.  I have a furry feline sister named Ruby who can be snarky.  She thinks she's the boss, but we all know....  "I'm the Boss around here!" (giggle, snort!)  I am grateful for the endless love and exciting journeys my humans takes me on.  Everyone deserves to have humans like mine.

Now, here's the thing. I've been sniffing around this page and it's awfully quiet — just me, rattling around all by myself like the last kibble in the bowl. So I'm putting out an official Bulldog Invitation: send in your dogs, your cats (yes, even the snarky ones — I live with one, I've made peace with it), your birds, your bunnies, your fish, whoever shares your couch. I want to know your names, your nicknames, and what you've been blamed for lately. Tell your humans to get the camera out. I'll save you a spot right here, and I promise not to hog the whole page. Much.

Yours truly, 🐾 Magnus

Hello Newcomers. My name is Ruby, though I also answer - occasionally, on my own schedule - to Ruby Doodle and Ruby-Wan Kenoobi. I am sixty years old, which is eleven in human talk, and I am a purebred Siberian. Yes, all this fur is on purpose. For the record, I am an Aquarius. I am told this explains a great deal, and I resent that it does.

You may have already met my brother Magnus on this very page. He got here first. He would like you to know he is "the Boss around here," and I let him keep saying it because it costs me nothing. For the record: I control the sunny spot by the window, the top of the stairs, and the hallway at 11 a.m. Magnus controls the floor. We each have our territory.

We recently lost our brother Harry. The house is quieter than it used to be, and I have found myself sitting closer to people than I strictly need to. I'm told this is allowed.

My interests include supervising, judging, and fluffing blanklets until deciding I am finished. I love my humans, John and Shannon, and I show it by sitting in thier spot on the couch and not moving until they are forced to move me. This is affection. They have learned.

I am also, I'm told, "on Instagram." The account is @shannywag_pets, which you will notice does not say @ruby - an oversight I have raised on several occasions. Follow along if you like. Magnus will assume every new follower is there for him. Let him have that one.  I care not.

If you are new to the neighborhood, my advice is the same advice I give Magnus: come in, take up space, and do not apologize for it. Everyone here is friendlier than they need to be. It's a bit much, honestly. You'll like it.

Yours, with one eye open, Ruby

Hello Newcomers! My name is Shelby, and I'll tell you straight off, I did not have a fancy start in life. My story begins in a rural backyard in Rush, Colorado, where I was found dirty and severely matted, together with a German Shepherd, in a very isolated place. We were probably abandoned there. A good Samaritan scooped us up and brought us to the Humane Society in Colorado Springs, which is where a better life started for me.

That's where I met Ingrid. She's a volunteer dog groomer there, and let me tell you, my coat was a situation — dirty, matted, and needing a shave. She gave me a bath and a full groom.  Then somewhere between the shampoo and the blow-dry, she decided she couldn't give me back. We fell in love! Eight years later, here we are.

Turns out getting cleaned up was just the beginning of my glow-up. These days I'm a certified therapy dog, and I make the rounds visiting patients and staff at Pikes Peak Hospice and at Penrose Main Hospital. I take the job seriously — a good ear-scratch and a few treats from the staff can do a lot for a rough day! I intend to be very good at my job for a very long time.

Ingrid had my DNA tested when she adopted me. The test checked what breed I was and, very importantly, screened for 150 inherited diseases — she wanted to know if I'd inherited any, and luckily, I did not! Turns out I'm a "shorkie" — two-thirds Yorkie, one-third Shih Tzu. So the spunk and the silky coat really reflect my breed.

I'm about eleven and a half now, which Ingrid tells me is "distinguished." I love all people, I love all dogs, and I have never met a lap I didn't think was mine. Sweet, gentle, and affectionate — that's the whole résumé. She always tells me I'm one of the best dogs she's ever had, and she had eight dogs before me!

Yours, with a wagging tail and a freshly brushed coat,
🐾 Shelby

Hello Newcomers! Skye here. I'll be honest with you — my early years are a bit of a mystery even to me, but here's what I know. I lived in Pueblo with a black doodle brother for an unknown period of time, and when our person passed away, the two of us ended up together at the Humane Society in Colorado Springs. It was a confusing time, and my coat had gotten pretty dirty, matted, and overgrown, like nobody had run a brush through it in ages.

That's where Ingrid found me — on the grooming table, same as my sister Shelby. She gave me a bath and a full groom, and something about the whole experience won her over, because she cleaned me up and took me home on Christmas Day and never looked back. My name was "Junkyard" when I came to the Humane Society, and my doodle brother was "Leroy" — names from an old song, for those who can remember. Not a very flattering name for me, for sure — I now have a lovely name. That was just over three and a half years ago.

I won't pretend I was an easy houseguest at first. I came with some rough edges — I was pretty reactive to everything and unsure of myself. But Ingrid says I've mellowed considerably since those early days, and I have to agree — these days I'm sweet, social, and about as affectionate as a dog can get. I'm roughly ten years old now, and I like to think I've grown into exactly who I was always meant to be.

Ingrid also had my DNA done, for the same reason Shelby got tested. It turns out I'm quite the melting pot: a "poochon," 63% Poodle, 16% Bichon, and a scattering of eight other breeds rounding out the rest. I'm also fortunate to have no inherited diseases in my DNA. I like to think that explains my range — part elegant, part fluffy, all charm.

My hobbies, if you're curious: long walks, an enthusiastic and frankly tireless devotion to fetching my ball, which I will bring back to you, and patrolling the yard for squirrels, who have not yet learned to take me seriously but really ought to.

Yours, ball in mouth, eyes on the treeline, 🐾 Skye