Goofy Dogs

I can open my front door, reach around and ring the bell and my dogs will stand there with me and bellow and nothing.

Lovable idiots.

Shall we talk about Miss Cleo and her attack on the killer kibble?

She removes one kibble from the bowl. Carries it into the living room. Drops it. Takes a few steps. Turns back to look. and *** attack*** - she pounces, she growls, she throws the kibble in the air ... she rolls on her back and grins when she is successful in vanquishing her foe.

It's a bit errrr when we have company.

My dog, a 4 month old lab, was chewing at something between her paws while lying on my bedroom floor. Turns out she had captured a slug from the yard and brought it in the doggie door. Disgusting, the way it turned out.

Friend of mine used to get his dog all worked up, frantically barking and ready to kill, by looking out the window and saying: "Wurze the kitty? Wurse the kitty?" (meaning, where is the kitty?) Eventually, you could make the dog go into a frenzy just by saying "Wurze."

Boomerang, that's funny... they are dear, lovable idiots, aren't they?

Cleo must be part chow. Poppy does a similar attack thing with her "greenies." After she gets one she runs into the living room and deliberately throws it into the air, then defends it against all comers, real and imaginary. I think it's hilarious.

A slug? Yuck. Their slime is so hard to clean up. <shudder>

A friend had chickens that would roost on her porch. She'd shoo them off by telling her dogs to "get the chickens." Pretty soon, dogs or no, the chickens would scatter when she said "Get the chickens."

My dog barks at the television when there is any four-footed animal on the screen (especially other dogs and polar bears), real or animated. He also likes the smell of hairspray and cosmetics, so insists on jumping on and sniffing peoples heads when they come over.

I can relate to Boomerang. How about just knocking on a table or counter? Same effect.... strange creatures!

With my dogs you do actually have to be in the vicinity of the front door to get a response - they're too lazy to travel too far to look into the disturbance.

I wish my dogs would pick up a bit of cat aggression. Both my dogs weigh in at about 70 pounds - pretty big girls. I also have a 20 year old cat who only gets up to eat and mess with the dogs before curling back into her ancient self. The dogs simply freeze when she walks into the room. Meanwhile, every mangy clobbered cat in the neighborhood makes themselves at home in our garage. The dogs just walk away and turn over the food bowl to any cat that comes along.

I used to have a dog that loved to wrestle so I'd put on a pair of heavy leather work gloves and we'd go at it for 30 or 40 minutes at a time. After a few months of doing that she started attacking gloves any time she saw a pair. We had to ask people to take their gloves off before they came into the house during the winter.

The dog I have now isn't very cool. He doesn't do much of anything.. lol

My sister has 2 older dogs, a puppy and a few cats. She gives the puppy dog treats, who in turn drops one in front of each dog and cat in the room. Guess she just likes to share. Weird puppy, but sweet!

Not so weird, Boss, control of the distribution of food is a sign of authority among wild canids. Your puppy is effectively saying "I'm top dog" by passing out the treats . . .

Our mail slot is between our front door and a big picture window. I can go out on the porch, look into the window, and they are there jumping and wagging their tails.

Then I step over to the mail slot, open it, and immediately there is savage barking and two snouts trying to force their way through.

Back to the window, they jump up and wag.

Back to the mail slot, more savagery.

This can be repeated ad nauseum with the same set of responses. Talking through the slot does nothing to turn the tide. Neither does spraying a water bottle through it.

Many many years ago, i lived with two roommates, and we had a pair of dogs form the same litter--Georgette and Abe. They slept ouside, on an old sofa in the garage. The property was overrun by mice and rats (we were in the middle of a national forest--no prospect of ever completely eliminating the problem). As they got old enough to entertain themselves in the day time without constant attention, they taught themselves to be hunters. They would arrive at the front door as soon as they heard anyone in the kitchen, and they began to bring offerings of dead rodents. Frequently, there was the bright red blood of recent death on the necks of the victims. We would praise them, and then, when the dogs weren't paying attention, we would fling them into a precipitous and heavily wooded gully across the road. One morning, when i was up alone, Georgette had a big rat in her mouth, and wouldn't leave me alone until i took it. I was hungover, and not in the best of moods, so i took the rat by the tail, whirled it around, and flung it across the road into the gully. Georgette got a look of deep indignation on her face, and wouldn't speak to me for hours. The "love offerings" ceased immediately.

One day a few weeks later, i went into the garage (quite a big one, three car size), and was greeted by the dogs in an excited manner. They didn't often "have company come over." There was a sour and musty odor, occasionally sharp, but i couldn't exactly place it. At one point, i sat down on the sofa while playing with the dogs, and a miasma of sickening odor enveloped me. I stood up and lifted a cushion--to find several rodent corpses which had been "buried" in the couch. A further investigation revealed that there were dozens of bodies so "buried." The dogs were apprehensive, but also wriggling in excitement at this proof of their prowess. Not being hungover that day, and having imbibed a little wisdom from the earlier incident, i praised them effusively (the damned mice and rats were a serious problem), and then got an old wooden milk crate, and rooted out all the corpses (i stopped counting after 5 dozen), putting them in the crate by the door. When that filled up, i started a new one, and the dogs lost interest in the old one, which allowed me to finally take it over the road and dump it in the gully.

One must always be careful not to cavalierly offend the delicate sensitivities of mankind's most fraithful friends.

Jake used to bury store-bought bones. If he could go outside, they'd go in the flower bed in front. If inside, they'd end up in couch cushions or the like. A friend came over once and brought him a bone. He was very excited and started wandering around the house with his prize. We'd get up and follow him and he'd look back with that "I'm busy, leave me alone." look on his face.

I think we found that bone a couple of months later, in the window seat cushion.

Now HOW on earth did you figure that spraying a water bottle through the mail slot would make 'em stop? Oh, to be a fly on the wall.

I'm loving these stories! These hunting (and burying) stories are quite impressive. I've never had a dog who buried anything. My dogs don't do any real hunting either, but the red dog thinks squirrels are the devil. She'll forego treats and food whenever she has her eyes on a squirrel in the tree. It is very upsetting to her sister, who reaches such a state of high anxiety that she tries to get as much of herself as possible into my lap so that she can be consoled.

Because it's the enforcement of "leave it" around the house.

Oh, I see. I was picturing a faux-mailperson spraying water into the house.

Chows are very sensitive. "Bad dog" spoken with authority is enough to make them cower (except when squirrels are about). We have to be careful or we'll hurt their feelings.

Damn. Wish that worked with heeler mutts. They're headstrongs bastards, they are.