#the maltese mutt

[thescoobydooby]

[fflaminlo]

finally finished my baby sisters xmassukah gift so my queue feels a bit lighter

[kinglua]

I got a doggy on my pillow I doggy next to me and a doggy on my lap I got three puppies rn life is good

[dog-groomer-diaries]

Literally, I just tried to shave her legs...

[werevampiwolf]

Admittedly, I'm biased because she's my grumpy little old lady, but Mochi is exactly what I think of when people say "little crusty white dog".

i think I have a very different understanding of what a little crusty white dog is compared to everyone else

[thyla-scene360]

Finished my next batch of Spectacular Anthro AU Headshots!

In Order of Appearance:

Jackson “Montana” Brice - Red Heeler

Quentin Beck - Marble Fox

Phineas Mason aka The Tinkerer - Maltese

Joseph aka Hammerhead - XL Bully

Otto Octavius aka Doctor Octopus - Scottish Fold Cat

Fancy Dan - Miniature Pinscher

May Parker - Mutt

Ben Parker - Mutt

Walter Hardy aka The Cat Burglar - Ragdoll Cat

Felicia Hardy aka Black Cat - Ragdoll/Persian Mix

Stanley “Stan” Carter - Belgian Malinois

Jean DeWolff - Czechoslovakian Wolfdog Mix

Dr. Ashley Kafcaw - Common Raven

[reginamillls]

but what if tommy does get a dog and it's a little one that's kinda yappy, like a chihuahua mixed with a maltese mixed with a corgi. kind of a question mark of a mutt. a fluffy adorable little shit.

it's been hanging out around harbor station for a while and tommy starts bringing it food scraps and after a while takes it to the vet and confirms it's not chipped so he decides to adopt it and names it frankie.

frankie takes to having a human so quickly. she's always on tommy's lap when he's sitting down anywhere. sleeps on the bed by his feet. follows him everywhere he goes.

she's up early morning ready for walkies and to go to work with her human. everyone at harbor loves having an unofficial station dog. she keeps them entertained and it's nice to have a little ball of fluff on your lap when you're having a hard shift. it's win win.

you know they spoil Frankie

she's the mascot of Harbor, when they do their photoshoot entries she's in every single picture, she's been in the official calendar for a few years now

when Tommy needs it the team fights over who gets to watch her

when Buck meets Frankie he's very clear that he isn't replacing her at all but Frankie loves Buck and that just makes Tommy like Buck even more they're adorable together

also at some point, Tommy and Frankie have those matching dog/human sweatshirts

[attackfish]

Darth Chomper, surrounded by Jedi. Or in other news, my dogs and my parents' dogs all got into my bed for the night, and decided my presence was optional.

Every time I have a poodle puppy, I turn into Emperor Palpatine in Return of the Jedi, and I'm all, "Yes, my young apprentice. You have grown strong. Soon your training in the dark side will be complete."

And then my young apprentice noms on my nose, because betrayal is the way of the sith.

[thescoobydooby]

[therian-and-nonhuman-polls]

which dog type are you? (+examples)

shepherd (malinois, collie, heeler)

molossus (sennenhund, bulldog, dobermann)

terrier (yorkie, pittbull, airdale terrier)

laika/primitive (spitz, podenco, husky)

hound/pointer (bloodhound, kurtzhaar, dachshund)

spaniel (retriever, field spaniel, cocker)

toy/lapdog (maltese, pudel, pug)

gazehound (greyhound, irish wolfhound, borzoi)

mutt

im not sure

multiple of these

im not dog/results

[secret-third-winchester-brother]

mutt’s wincest tracklist :] also fight club IS dean winchester fight me

# TRACK TITLE ARTIST

001 : Absinthe - IDONTKNOWHOWBUTTHEYFOUNDME

002 : Brother - Matt Corby

003 : Carry on Wayward Son - Kansas

004 : Blood Brothers - Nicole Dollanganger

005 : Casual - Chappell Roan

006 : Diet Mountain Dew - Lana Del Rey

007 : Going to Georgia - The Mountain Goats

008 : I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski

009 : I Found - Amber Run

010 : Looking Out for You - Joy Again

011 : Nice Docs, Baby! - Blue Foster

012 : Nobody - Mitski

013 : Too Sweet - Hozier

014 : Treehouse - Alex G, Emily Yacina

015 : Dance Me to the End of Love - Cohen

016 : fight club - fitzy

017 : An Unhealthy Obsession- TBRSO

018 : Kiss Me You Animal- Burn The Ballroom

019 : I Want You - Mitski

020 : As the World Caves In - Matt Maltese

021 : Andrew in Drag - The Matnetic Fields

022 : I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

023 : Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

024 : This Is Love - Air Traffic Controller

025 : Piano Man - Billy Joel

026 : God Complex - VIOLENT VIRA

027 : Michigan - The Milk Carton Kids

028 : Every Breath You Take - The Police

029 : Mary On A Cross - Ghost

[pandakong]

Doggust Day 1 - Mutt!

Her eyes looked more shocked and vacant at first hence, “what has she seen?”

Maltese-poodle mix I would love to have you if you’re not too loud.

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonight [Rewrite]

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who's had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter Two.

The accommodation is located on B-deck; easy enough to find. Phoebe and Mother are stopped along the way, a conversation proceeds in the middle of the hallway between the two women and some other people Mulder doesn’t care to remember the name of. His father shakes his head leading Mulder away.

“They’ll join us when they’re ready,” Bill says as they continue to walk to their rooms.

And the rooms are nice enough; mahogany furniture, floral tapestries covering the couches and chairs. The bedroom is large: a walk-in wardrobe Phoebe should hopefully be happy with. He touches the pillows and his disappointment comes when he finds they are feather. He places it back down.

In the mirror, he catches the reflection of the safe. Spinning around on his heels, he walks over to it, pulling it open. His hand strokes the inside feeling the cold iron. It’s of decent size, enough room to place valuables. He looks to the carry-on he’d brought on with him, an idea in his head. Reaching into the bag, his fingers gripping hold of the old leather book. He places it inside the safe. With a bit of manoeuvring he manages to fit it in and is still able to lock the safe afterwards.

Few people know about that book, a few more know about his talent that comes with it. Phoebe knew about the talent but not the book. His parents know briefly of his talent but again, not the book. The book is his and while he is in no way ashamed of his drawings- in fact, if one were to turn the first page they would be met with a very innocent drawing of his sister, however a bit further on and they’ll find the not-so-innocent drawings. It was those he wanted to keep secret.

“Fox!” he hears Phoebe’s clear-cut voice break through the air. Sighing, his moment of peace over, he double-checks that the safe is shut and locked and exits the bedroom to see his dearly beloved fiancé and the mutt she holds in a cage.

Mulder groans.

“Did you really have to bring that thing, Phoebe?”

Phoebe looks at him as though he’s just told her she wouldn’t be eating dinner for a month.

“Of course I had to bring her Fox,” she says in utter disgust. “Did you just expect me to leave her behind?” She takes the Maltese out of its cage, giving the cage to one of her maids before she holds the animal up.

“I know you don’t like the cage, sweetie. You can stay out of it from now on.” The dog begins fussing in her arms and Phoebe gasps. “Tuppence needs a potty break,” she hands the dog out to Mulder. “Take her.”

Mulder stares at the hairball currently in his face. “Can’t you take her?” he asks, careful to use the word ‘her’ rather than ‘it’.

“I can’t. I need to unpack.”

“I can do that.”

Phoebe looks at him like he’s grown another head.

“No, you’ll just put things in the wrong place.”

Mulder sighs and accepts his punishment.

“Alright, where’s the leash?”

Maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the doggy pooping area is the third class deck but it does. He had looked for an official area originally but there didn’t seem to be one that existed. He sees another dog doing its business on the deck and follows suit.

He lets the dog get on with it, lets it take its time too, maybe it’ll wander too far to the rail and fall off the ship, but Mulder’s never had much luck on his side before.

His attention moves away from the dog to the people. A man and his daughter who sits on the rails, her back against his chest, an arm securing her so she doesn’t fall off. The father points to the islands in the distance. Mulder can’t hear the words but he imagines that he’s telling her the names of them, maybe stories about who those people were. Maybe the man knows who the people were.

A second man, older than the first, sits on a bench with his eyes shut and lets the breeze ruffle what little hair he has.

 Mulder’s eyes move to another little girl who kicks a ball over to a red-headed boy. The boy picks the ball up, turning his face to the sky and Mulder watches as he balances the ball on his nose like a sealion in a zoo. The little girl laughs and as does another girl with the same red hair as the boy. Mulder finds himself drawn to it, drawn to the girl, a genuine smile breaking out across his face for what feels like the first time in a long time, his stomach twisting and heart folding in on itself all in a good way as he stares at her. Whatever this feeling is, he likes it.

“How old you do think that boy is?” a voice beside him asks. Mulder startles, never even hearing the man approach. “Fifteen? Sixteen?” Mulder moves his gaze back over to the red haired boy. “When I was fifteen, my father sent me off to boarding school.”

“You envy them?” Mulder asks. Most people he’s met in his life scorn them, question how they could live like that. Mulder appreciates the change of opinion.

“A little bit. Makes you wonder what experiences he’s had this far.”

The boy turns and Mulder is taken back slightly by the gash on his face.

“He’s experienced a good punch if that cut is anything to go by,” Mulder laughs. He stretches his arm out towards the man. “I’m Mulder,” he says.

The name strikes no recognition with a man for which Mulder is absolutely grateful for.

“John Byers.”

Similarly, the name does strike any recognition for Mulder either. The two shake hands just as the dogs wander over. Mulder opens the gate, attaching the leash back onto Tuppence.

“I’ll see you at dinner, then?” Byers calls as Mulder makes his way back inside.

“Yes, you will.”

Dinner turns out to be a dull affair, minus a bit of drama beforehand: Phoebe’s hissy fit at having “Nothing to wear” Mulder had got back to the room to find that everything had been packed away. The walk-in wardrobe he thought Phoebe would be fine with only has enough room to fit half her clothes into. She had cried that she wasn’t prepared to live out of her suitcase for a week. Mulder had compromised, given up the small area he’d reserved for his clothes to fit the rest of Phoebe’s. Now his clothes reside in his father’s room.

All in all, the whole debacle had delayed them by thirty minutes.

Other than that, the dinner remained uneventful. Mulder was continuously zoning out throughout it, his thoughts entirely focused upon the girl on the deck. Who was she? Why did he feel what he felt? What did he even feel? And why couldn’t he pull his thoughts away from her?

“Fox…Fox…” he swears he hears his Mother saying.

It’s Phoebe’s sigh of annoyance that forces him out of his reverie.

“He’s doing that thing again, Mother.”

“Fox!” his father barks. Mulder looks to his father, dazed for a moment and fully aware he has no idea what conversation is happening at the table. “Mr Skinner is speaking to you.”

Mulder looks towards the bald man, only now realising that he had joined their table.

“I’m sorry, Mr Skinner,” Mulder apologises. “You were saying?”

“I was just congratulating you and Miss Green on your engagement,” Skinner tells him.

Mulder smiles and reaches for Phoebe’s hand on the table, clasping their fingers together. Not showing anything is amiss, Phoebe smiles.

“Thank you, Mr Skinner,” Mulder says. He looks to Phoebe then. “My only wish is for this week to hurry so I can officially make Phoebe my wife.”

He brings the hand he holds to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss to the top of it. And Phoebe sends him a sincere smile.

Disgust rolls inside his stomach, curdling the food he’s just eaten, disgusted with himself. Mulder’s never hated himself more.

Just as they’re finishing their third course does the conversation change once more. Mulder pays no mind to it, he nods when he’s expected to and that is all.

“You’re old friend Bill,” a man from the farther end of the table shouts over. “Spender- is he on the ship, do you know?”

“I saw his son before,” says Phoebe. “He didn’t look too happy.”

“You remember Jeffrey, don’t you, son?” Bill asks Mulder.

“Yes, he was in my Psychology class at Oxford,” Mulder answers simply before going back to his soup.

The man at the end of the table pipes up again. “I never saw the point in educating yourself on those types of subjects. Seems a waste of time.”

“Fox has a special knack for reading people, don’t you?”

Mulder nods. He could read these people perfectly.

Dessert is on its way when the conversation changes once more. The man at the end of the table telling everyone, once again, that he has an opinion to make.

“Would anyone else sleep better knowing we weren’t sharing a boat with steerage?”

Mulder’s stomach twists, the chocolate mousse halfway to his mouth suddenly appearing unappetising.

“Mother and I saw some wandering down our hallway earlier. How they managed to get up there, I have no idea.”

“Maybe they were just lost, Phoebe,” Mulder says as gently as he can, the anger seething beneath.

“Whatever they’re excuse was, a crewmember soon shouted at them to leave and off they scurried.”

“Like rats in the woodwork, back down to the sewers where they belong,” the man at the end of the table gruffly laughs.

“I’m sure they won’t be an issue anymore,” says Father.

Done with the conversation and dinner all together, Mulder pushes his untouched dessert away.

“Fox?” his mother asks. Her eyes dart around, absorbing the reactions of everyone else at the table, a stickler for public perception.

“I just feel a bit sick,” Mulder says responds.

“You might have caught something off the docks earlier,” says Phoebe reaching up to touch his forehead. She looks to the table party worriedly, “He is burning up.”

Mulder brings her hand away. “I’ll see you later on,” he says and with that he leaves the table, no kiss, no hug, no form of intimacy at all, he just leaves.

The breeze is welcomed from the hot and stuffy dining room. For all their visitors at the table Mulder hoped the man he met earlier- Byers- would have joined them. It would have been nice to have somebody at the table who thought similarly to him.

He makes his way to the back of the ship, away from on-lookers and those who would judge him, happy to find the stern empty.

He walks over to the rails, feeling the cold oak between his fingers as he looks out to the darkness around him. His mind drifts back to earlier, to the father and daughter and he finds himself beginning to climb the rails.

His heart is in this throat every step. Mulder never considered himself afraid of much, if he was dared to do something he’d do it but maybe it’s the fact that he’s alone that scares him now, nobody around to catch him if he falls. Out here it’s only him- only him, the ship, and the sea and if he does fall that’s it.

He thinks about how that little girl must have felt. Was she afraid at first? Did she refuse to sit on the rail for fear of falling? Was it only when she felt her father behind her, arms around her chest that she felt safe, that only then did she trust she wasn’t going to fall?

“I hope you’re not considering jumping?”

Mulder startles, almost losing his balance in the process. He grips the rails tighter, suddenly questioning his choice of seating.

A nervous laugh falls from his lips.

“I wasn’t until you nearly made me.”

“Sorry,” the woman says. A woman’s voice. “I just saw you climb up there and got a wee bit nervous, that’s all.”

Mulder twists slightly so he can see the person. As he turns, he almost falls again when he realises who’s standing there.

The red-headed girl from earlier.

“Maybe you should get down,” she says, face a full display of concern. She edges closer slowly. “It’s a long way down if you fall off.”

She leans against the rails just as he’d done earlier.

“Maybe I like the risk,” Mulder says, a façade of a fearless smile appearing across his face. Really, he was shitting bricks.

“You won’t like the fall,” she says, her voice serious, no hint of the playfulness he was hoping to convey. “It’ll be like hitting concrete and if you just so happened to survive that, it won’t take long for the cold to get you.”

Mulder looks down into the water directly below him.

“How long we talking?” he asks.

Her answer is quick, ready like she’d been prepared to answer all along.

“Thirty minutes for the hypothermia to kick in, one to two hours before you die.” The facts all out, she turns sombre and concerned once more. “Not exactly a quick death if that’s what you wanted.”

Gaining her point, he begins to twist on the rails, back to the sea as he jumps down.

“There,” he says, dusting himself off. “No harm done.” He looks down at her, realising just how much he towers over her. Phoebe is tall for a woman, almost his height in heels, but this girl…Mulder estimates she not much taller than 5’4.

He stretches out his hand, curious as to why the universe has thrown her in his path for a second time that day and even more curious to know why she knows so much about cold water and hypothermia.

“I’m Mulder.”

She ignores his hand, an eyebrow shooting up. “Mulder? I’m not entitled to a first name?”

Mulder laughs nervously again, dropping his arm to his side. “You don’t want to know it.”

She regards him, as if wondering whether he is worth an interest in or not.

“In that case…” Her hand slides out towards him. “I’m Scully.”

Mulder stares at her hand for a moment before he takes it, feeling soft, warm skin under his own despite the cold evening. A warmth spreads through him, an undeniable connection being forged between their joined hands. Fate sure was a strange entity.

[4-ffliction]

Dog Breed Inspired Names

[ A mutt masterlist 🐕 🐶 🐩 ]

──────────────────────

Daxie , Chewy , Beagle , Paws , Bone

Collie , Buddy , Chase , Goldie , Basenji

Russel, Shepherd/Shep , Fido , Rhett

Bulli , Rotti , Terry/Terrie , Bichon

Sammy , Charlie , Sheltie , Cane , Corso

Tzu , Shiba , Klee , Akita , Niel , Kelpie , Sy

Pommie/Pom , Bernard , Jack , Scottie

Cairn , Dale , Snoopy , Frenchie , Chi

Pouglas , Shitzie , Mal , Lab , Chowder

Affen , Havana , Eskie , Aidi , Dane , Spitz

Ghan , Aksaray , Stafford , Pup , Stray

Frisbee , Maltese , Hound , Basset , Bernie

Whippet , Shar–Pei , Airedale , Gordon

Beau , Lupus , Corgi , Bostie , Huskeigh

[rockzone]

Storace - Crossfire

Release Date: 22 Nov 2024

Photo by Frank Kollby

Swiss rock legend Marc Storace’s own band has released the highly anticipated new studio album, “Crossfire”

The Maltese born-Swiss musician started his exceptional musical career in 1970, with the Swiss cult progressive band TEA, with whom he released 5 LP's. He gained attention for his frontmanship and his high-pitched raunchy vocal tone.

In 1979, Marc became the voice of Krokus, the most successful Hard Rock Band from Switzerland. After their first album with Marc, “Metal Rendez-Vous”, Krokus played several world tours, sold over 15 million records and won many gold and platinum awards.

Fast forward to 2021, Marc started working on his solo career as Storace and, at the end of 2021, he released his first solo album “Live And Let Live”. Marc started his first tour in Switzerland accompanied by the studio band in the middle of the difficult pandemic times.

Marc's new album “Crossfire” is a monster piece of Hard Rock. The songwriting is shared between Marc Storace, guitar player Tommy Henriksen (Alice Cooper band) and drummer Pat Aeby (Krokus, Gotus).

Speaking about the album, Marc says, “Tommy Henriksen, in spite of his tight touring-schedule with Alice Cooper, The Hollywood Vampires and his work with his Crossbone Skully, actually “made time” to produce my Crossfire album. That’s what I call a good friend. Creating the songs with T felt like magic. And he even got the incredible Olle Romo, Mutt Lange’s very own engineer, to mix the album. Unbelievable! It was like a match made in heaven.”

[v-anrouge]

Dogs I can picture them owning! (DIFFERENR FROM THE BREEDS THEY WOULD BE!) (I would love a Chinese crested! )

Riddle: he’s a Doberman owner if I’ve ever seen one! Stern, scheduled, rules for everything! Dobie would be so happy with him!

Trey: Labrador, who is really old, and really fat. Trey can’t say no to puppy eyes, so his dog gets fat fast. But he does make sure all food is safe for the pooch!

Cater: the most spoiled Pomeranian, maybe a Chinese crested. Little Velcro dog, and I feel his dog would be the most spoiled dog!

Deuce: some sort of rescue mutt, maybe a Shepard mix.

Ace: another mutt boy, his and Deuce’s dogs are besties.

Leona: Samoyed, soft fluffy pillow! His dog would end up as his emotional support dog probably, loves the dog more than he will admit.

Ruggie: is friends with all the strays, but doesn’t “own” any of them

Jack: husky, good in the cold, and LOVES running and hiking! Enough energy to finally keep up with Jack’s workouts!

Azul: i can only picture Azul with some white furry cat to finish off his mob boss persona. Maybe a Maltese or Pekingese

Jade: Jade probably trains his to help him hunt mushrooms. Maybe a bloodhound or a terrier mix…

Floyd: mutt, another emotional support dog, helps keep him stable and helps limit major mood swings. Would have to be a bigger dog though, can’t picture Floyd with a small dog

Kalim: King Charles spaniel, spoiled little brat of a dog.

Jamil: Anatolian Shepard, hard workers, and the dog probably has some sort of satchel so Jamil can carry a lot around.

Vil: another Doberman owner, and is great with diet control cause WHY DO THEY ALWAYS GET BLOAT!?!

Rook: a bunch of grand basset griffon vendeens, little scent hounds from France, laid back babes. Or petit basset griffon vendeen, who are more rabbit hunters than just scent hounds. All I know is he would own a pack of hounds!

Epel: keeshond, which a spitz breed, super friendly and outgoing, but protective of their territory so Epel’s dog would be a great guard dog for their apple trees

Idia: only would own a cat. Not a dog person.

Ortho: (if i misspell this imma cry) kromphorlander…kronforlander…which is a companion breed, sensitive and sweet

Malleus: Pekingese to bring in his royal brand even more. His dog is a spoiled baby who only likes Malleus, and always wants to be held.

Lilia: a mastiff, probably an ex war dog, who is a lazy loaf of a dog now!

Silver: rat terrier, a small bit hyper dog who would happily wake Silver up for play time!

Sebek: broholmer, a silent guard dog, who is very independent, but I could also see Sebek with a Doberman

Crowley: a t’osa, a patient and sweet dog who happily sits at the front door to guard it. I can just see his dog sitting at his desk, by his feet to guard

Crowely:volpino Italian which is a little white puff who happily does exercises then happily cuddles on the couch!

Vargas: a boxer, sweet heart of a dog who is ready to work and run!

Sam: tibétain mastiff, a good guard dog who is aloof. Won’t refuse a pat, but doesn’t react to it. Good cuddle partner at the end of the day.

i know nothing about dogs but everything you say i trust you so much also VIK W A DOBERMAN GRAHAHH It would probably be named something very cute in German