Tag Archives: Dog

More On Doors

5 Mar

I remember another time a doorway exchange caused some confusion.

We were living in South Africa and we had a dog who had given birth to five puppies but who had no interest in caring for them.  She escaped at every opportunity and the Hub was at his wits’ end (admittedly, he didn’t have far to go), trying to persuade her to feed her pups.  

One warm Saturday morning (so, any Saturday morning; this was South Africa), Scamp sneaked out again and the Hub, watering the garden, spotted her doing her snake impression across the kitchen threshold.

We had new neighbours.  Their first impression of the kind of people we are – misogynistic husband; downtrodden wife – came when next door’s wife heard my husband scream, ‘Get in the house and look after your babies, you stupid b****.’

Miss Molly-Moo-Moo

7 Feb

You’ve heard a lot about Toby this week and almost nothing of Molly.  Molly worships the ground I walk on unless I’m not there; in which case she worships whoever is giving her the most attention.

She is the most loving dog but she doesn’t do dog behaviour: Walk?  No thanks; I might get wet/cold/hot/dirty.  Food? Is it gourmet/heated/yours?  Maybe, if you spend long enough coaxing me.  Coat?  Absolutely!  And t-shirt, jumper, blanket as well.  I’m freezing!  It is August, after all.

She hasn’t done anything interesting of late (she has to be prised from my side for that) so I thought I’d re-post A Day In The Life, to give you a flavour of her character:

  • Scratch at Mummy’s door but she can’t hear me over her avalanche impression.
  • Go potty.
  • Bark to wake Mummy.
  • Watch her stand in my poo and go potty.
  • Hide in the cushion like a cutie pie.
  • Cuddled for reassurance that Mummy loves me despite what she is sure is a mistake on my part.  Phew.
  • Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
  • Demand breakfast.
  • Turn nose up at breakfast.
  • Let Mummy hand feed me my breakfast of expensive tinned dog meat.
  • Love Mummy.  Manage a sticky lick to her face.
  • Love Mummy.  Wonder why she’s looking a little nauseated.
  • Sleep behind Mummy while she’s at the computer.
  • Wake up, irritated by the noise Mummy makes when she falls off her little bit of the seat.
  • Love Mummy: if I’m going to be awake, I might as well enjoy it.
  • Watch Mummy trying to type one-handed while I sit on her lap for an extended belly rub.
  • Sleep.
  • Take the occasional sniff at Toby’s bottom, particularly when he wants a fuss from Mummy.

  • Drool as Mummy eats lunch.
  • Refuse to let her up until I get my share.
  • Sleep, exhausted from eating my protection money.
  • The dreaded walk…
  • Tolerate grooming; harness, putting on of; coat, putting on of; coat, taking off of; harness, taking off of; coat, putting on of; harness, putting on of.  I knew she had it the wrong way round but I didn’t tell her because it might start raining before she’s finished and then I have a legitimate excuse to refuse to leave house.
  • Open door.  See rain.  Refuse to leave house.
  • Tolerate harness, taking off of; coat, taking off of.
  • Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
  • Sleep.
  • Ignore the weird kid who sleeps in the room next door to Mummy, when he comes downstairs, eats, grunts, and returns to his hole.
  • Drool as Mummy eats dinner.
  • Refuse to let her up until I get my share.
  • Demand dinner.
  • Turn nose up at dinner.
  • Let Mummy hand feed me my dinner of expensive soft pellets.
  • Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
  • Sleep.
  • Cuddle Daddy while Mummy’s busy, keeping my eyes trained at all times on Mummy.
  • Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
  • Stick to Mummy like poo to her toes as she prepares for bed; she’s going nowhere without me.
  • Wait patiently to be lifted on to the bed because I’m too feeble to jump up myself, unless she’s not there.
  • Have extended cuddle until Mummy’s arms ache, her tea goes cold and she knocks her Kindle onto the floor while trying to reach around me.
  • Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.
  • Sleep.
  • Disturbed by Mummy trying to get comfortable on her tenth of the bed.
  • Wait until she settles then sit on the most awkward part of her body (varies according to whether she’s lying on her front, back or side).
  • Sleep.
  • Disturbed by Daddy giving me a goodnight cuddle before he puts me out of the room so he can go to bed.
  • Give Daddy the evil eye for separating me from Mummy.
  • Wait for Daddy to fall asleep and try to sneak back in; jump easily onto the bed and wiggle my way between them, sleeping long-ways to get comfortable.
  • Daddy’s on to me: he shuts the door properly this time.
  • Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Love Mummy.  Can’t be separated from Mummy.
  • Scratch at Mummy’s door but she can’t hear me over her avalanche impression.
  • Go potty.

Spooked

6 Feb

Toby is easily spooked.  He was abused as a pup and, although he is a happy and healthy dog now, some issues remain.

One dark night in January, Toby chose to sleep downstairs, even though it was cold and lonely; and here’s why:

He had been asleep, tucked up in his bed, covered by his blanket.  His whole body was under the covers, including his nose.

That’s when he broke wind.

The peculiar smell sent him running off in panic.

I shouldn’t laugh, but I have a dog who is literally scared of his own farts.

Kind Of Strange

2 Feb
The villain of the peace

The villain of the peace

Have Toby, Will Travel

Besotted, bewildered, bawling woman is reunited with her unrepentant pooch. He is absolutely fine apart from being a lot scared and a little breathless.  She is still crying, but now in relief.

Have you ever wanted to be a heroine from one of your favourite books?  I always saw myself as Jane Eyre: pragmatic, stoic, capable.  Imagine my shock when I realised I am actually Twilight‘s Bella Swan, the girl who never stops crying.

White Van Man offered me a lift but we were five minutes from home as the crow flies (fifteen minutes as the drip walks), so I refused his kind offer.  White Van Woman, however – who could have been Jane Eyre because she didn’t take any nonsense – insisted on driving Toby and me home.  Her name is Christine and she didn’t mind the interruptions as I talked over her yet again (it seems my manners disappear in emergencies).  I first phoned Pam with the good news and then took a call – to my great surprise – from the Hub, who seemed to know all about our adventure.

Christine dropped me and an excited Toby – I’m in a car!  I can see out of the window!  Why isn’t it open so I can surf? – at home and I opened the door and fell, sobbing, into the Hub’s reassuring arms.

Right knee, battered and bruised

Right knee, battered and bruised

I love coincidences.  Do you?  How’s this for a coincidence?  I had left the Hub asleep in bed when we went out for our walk. About twenty minutes later he was woken by a nice woman named Doreen, who asked if he had two small dogs and if so, his wife had collapsed at the Pyramid roundabout.

Turns out that Doreen used to live just up the road from us and Doreen’s daughter had been in the traffic and seen Toby running through the cars and what she thought was me collapsing (I went down fast, hard and face-first). Luckily, she recognised me even though we have never met – worryingly, from the back (or, more accurately, from the bottom up); I hope it is mostly because she knows the dogs.

Doreen’s daughter phoned her Mum and asked her to drive to our house to tell the Hub what had happened.  I found all of this out later when she returned to check on us.  Doreen even posted a message on Facebook about a lost Yorkie.  I am so grateful.  What kind and thoughtful people.

Left knee, ditto.  Also elbow and thigh, but the pictures are not of this same high quality

Left knee, ditto. Also elbow and thigh, but the pictures are not of this same high quality

The Hub, half asleep and scrambling for socks, decided to look for Toby. He didn’t know about all of the people helping me but he did know I was with Pam and therefore not alone.  He also knew that I would climb out of the hospital bed it was possible I might be in and kill him if he came to see me before finding my dog.  

The Hub could be Jane Eyre as well.  Everyone could except for Miss Sobsalot here.

Pam arrived then with Molly, and we all exchanged stories in the kitchen, while the Hub made tea to aid our recovery.  I’m pretty sure that at one point I said, ‘Excuse me,’ to Pam, and dropped my trousers.  I wanted to show my wounds to the Hub.

The Hub disinfected my knees and elbow (I only discovered the scrape on my left thigh later on) and fed me paracetamol and ibuprofen, because my left arm from hand to shoulder was extremely sore.  He only became concerned when I couldn’t eat a biscuit: he has never known me turn down food in thirty years, come childbirth or illness, apart from one nasty, four-day bout of gastroenteritis.

A day on the couch, a hearty lunch (including the rejected biscuit), some strong painkillers, wonder that the whole incident had lasted no more than twenty minutes (it seemed like three days; it must seem so to you, as well) and reflections on the immense kindness of strangers, and I was soon back to my normal self.  

Which is just as well, because Toby wants a walk…

More Kindness From Stockport Strangers

1 Feb

Image from joyreactor.com

When I left you yesterday I was bumped, scraped, shaking and crying like a tumbled toddler; and Toby was haring down to the business park off the slip road, having avoided every vehicle on an incredibly busy intersection.  I use the word ‘haring’ deliberately – one helpful stranger said that when she first saw him, he was running so fast, she thought he was a rabbit.  If we ever catch him, we’re thinking of entering him into greyhound races as the mechanical hare.

I didn’t know what to do.  A cyclist and several motorists had all stopped to tell me that they’d go after him.  I didn’t know whether to wait where I was for them to come back, or follow my dog…my dogs!  I had two dogs, one of whom I’d recklessly abandoned to chase the other.  I phoned Pam, my walking companion, and she reassured me that she had Molly safe.  We arranged a meeting place so that I could give her my house keys and she could take Molly home via our usual walk, on the off-chance that Toby had run that way.

I think Pam managed to grasp my instructions between my dry heaves and gasps, because she found me, took my keys and gave me the lead.  She carried Molly all the way home because Molly, having been carried so far, refused to walk.  Molly was born to be a handbag dog.  Her only regret in having me as her darling is that my main ambition in life is to have a handbag so empty, pockets will suffice (yes, I am a woman.  I’ve been tested).

Image from mchumour.com

What happened next is a bit of a blur.  I know people stopped to ask if I was okay; to offer help/lifts/comfort; to tell me they’d seen my dog – a big husky, right?  All of these drivers pulled over in rush hour traffic to help a complete stranger in obvious distress.  There was a fireman, a businessman, truckers and more.

At some point, a man who works for one of Stockport Council’s service providers told me to get in his truck and he and his mate would take me to where they had last seen Toby.  His mate was apologetic but adamant that I couldn’t get in because of insurance issues.  No problem, said the first man; he’d walk me down and his mate would follow.  I went with him but I don’t remember getting from one side of the intersection to the other.  I think I was a little dazed.

The kind man then got back in his truck and went off in search of my dog.  I walked in the same direction, calling Toby, still crying and shaking but thinking, somewhere deep in the bowels of my mind, I hope I haven’t put holes in the knees of these pants.  I love them and I’ve only had them a month.  It’s all about the priorities with me.

A blue van appeared and a nice man invited me to get in.  I did.  I can’t believe how easily I was prepared to drive off with total strangers.  I can’t believe how the media have lied to me all these years – no one molested me in any way and every one just wanted to help.  The man took me round the back of the business park, where a man out of a white van told me a bunch of people had tried to catch Toby but he had run off round the back of the buildings and they had all gone after him, some in their cars, some on foot.

He suggested I go one way and he go another, in a circle to try and head him off. He pointed to a woman slowing down in her white van (this was a business area; white vans are de rigeur in business areas) and told me she had trailed my dog.  As I was chatting to her – mostly me saying, ‘Thankyousomucheveryonehasbeensokind’ between sobs and over her as she tried to tell me what had happened, the white van man shouted, ‘There he is!’

Toby was running towards me!  He must have run all the way around the fairly large business park.  I ran towards him, shouting his name, so of course he turned-tail and ran off in the opposite direction.

Desperation focused my mind at last: I yelled, ‘Where’s Hub?  Where’s Hub?’ The Hub is the love of Toby’s life (and vice-versa): he slowed down; he turned; he hesitated; and then reluctantly headed in my direction, not entirely sure he could trust the woman yelling his beloved’s name.

Then he realised it was me.  Not for Toby an enthusiastic gallop into my arms – he turned his back to me, which is his way of saying, Pick me up, please.  

And I did.

The Kindness Of Stockport Strangers

31 Jan

Image from Wikipedia
What happened to Zemanta?  I’m away for one short month and WordPress has changed everything.
I feel a prompt post coming on…

Yo, readers!  I’m back!  Did you miss me?  I told you I’d be back.  Thank you for your patience.

I had a lovely blogging break and feel refreshed and ready to write again…or I did, until yesterday.

Back With A Bang…Literally

I had intended to write my first post-break post tomorrow, on the first (you will note that my break didn’t wash away my propensity for mangled sentences; there’s no break in the world long enough to make that happen), but I had such a day yesterday, I wanted to tell you all about it; and to boast about how kind the people of Stockport are.

The day began in the ordinary way: at 08:35, my Yorkshire Terriers Toby and Molly, my friend Pam and I left my house for our weekly walk along the river Mersey, on the Pennine Way.  It takes us into the heart of Stockport, under the M60 motorway, but away from roads, so it’s safe to let the dogs off the lead.

We’d been out about fifteen minutes and Toby was a little way off, investigating smells.  Have you ever walked Yorkshire Terriers? They were bred as ratters. Try throwing a ball – they’ll get halfway to where it lands and be distracted by a smell, à la Doug and squirrel in Up, and that will be that for the game of Fetch as far as a Yorkie is concerned.

Toby was nose-deep (probably in something disgusting), when his body language changed and he realised he was being stared at intensely by a large dog which had come up behind us, a husky-type dog.  The husky charged, scenting prey. Toby legged it.  He ran up the path, under the subway and followed the path until it turned left.

I acted instinctively, forgot I was fifty and charged after him, yelling his name in what was intended as a command but which came out as a whiny beg.  Fortunately, Pam had the presence of mind to grab Molly before she ran after me running after the husky running after Toby.  We must have been quite a sight, with the husky owner running after me running after the husky running after Toby…who ran into rush hour traffic.

I rounded the corner as he dashed across the far four lanes.  The traffic in the two lanes closest to me had stopped so I belted over to the other pavement and suddenly realised I was running downhill, faster than I’ve ever run before, and I would very shortly be crashing face-first to the ground.

And lo, it came to pass.  My left hand must have taken the impact because it hurt-hurt-hurts today, up my arm to my shoulder.  I thought at first I had sprained it and I’m lucky not to have broken it, such was my momentum.  It is worth the pain because my face merely bounced off the pavement, leaving no scratches or bumps, just temporary indentations where my glasses had tried to give me eyes in the back of my head.

A car pulled up, and another, I think.  Someone helped me stand, a cyclist chased off after Toby, who was running the wrong way through the cars on a busy intersection.

Image from webaviation.co.uk 

See the triangle of grass above the .co.uk?  I had crossed the diagonal red path above it and was now prostrate on the path to its left.  Toby was running down the slip road in front of the Pyramid, which has a large white truck going one way and a yellow van going the other.

And I will stop there for today, for two reasons:

1. Always leave them wanting more and

2. My arm hurts. Which leads to three:

3. Always leave them feeling sorry for you: it may result in chocolate.

Joke 977

25 Nov

Q. Where do you find a one-legged dog?

Funny Dog Pictures - Frisbee Dog Hits Tree

Funny Dog Pictures – Frisbee Dog Hits Tree (Photo credit: Alex Jarvis)

A. Where you left it.

*

From paradigmsearch.hubpages.com

Dog’s Life

28 Oct

The Laughing Housewife:

Read Tinman’s brilliant take on the stupidity of dog owners.

Originally posted on Worth Doing Badly:

She was dozing happily in the sun when she heard the sounds, the sounds that she had heard so often before. The yelp of terror, the whirring of a rope uncoiling, the thump of someone hitting dry earth, and the echoing clank of the same someone being hit on the head by a tin bucket.

Timmy had fallen down the well again.

Lassie sighed, climbed to her paws, and set off to let somebody know.

Other dogs didn’t have to put up with this crap, she told herself. Timmy and his four owners spent each summer holiday in search of dark catacombs, hidden treasure, and high teas. Snoopy spent most of his life asleep on top his kennel. The Hound of the Baskervilles (or Snuffles, as all they knew him) got to terrorise the entire Devonshire moors with his huge footprints, flame-red eyes and blood-freezing late-night yowl.

Lassie, however, got to be…

View original 526 more words

Or to put it another way….Vote Macaulay The Dog

22 Jun

The Laughing Housewife:

Please help Kate walk her dog.

See here for more Six Word Saturdays

 

Originally posted on Kate Shrewsday:

Screen Shot 2013-06-22 at 09.08.41

View original

Joke 809

10 Jun
What a funny sign this is!

What a funny sign this is! (Photo credit: Gene Hunt)

A dog walks into a bar and hops up on a stool.  

He looks the bartender in the eye and says, “Hey, guess what? I can talk. Have you ever seen a talking dog before? How about a drink?”

The bartender thinks for a moment and says, “Sure, the toilet’s right around the corner.”

*

From jokes.com

 

Joke 796

28 May
A dog looking through a fence

A dog looking through a fence (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Grannymar told me this story.  Imagine it in a beautiful Irish lilt:

I’m at Pets at Home buying a bag of food for my dog. While in the check-out queue, a woman behind me asked if I had a dog. Why else would I be buying dog food, RIGHT???

So on impulse I told her that no, I didn’t have a dog, I was starting the Dog Food Diet again, and that I probably shouldn’t because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in intensive care with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms. I told her that it was essentially a Perfect Diet and all you do is load your pockets with food nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again. 

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me.

I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff a poodle’s butt and a car hit me. 

 

Joke 786

18 May

A business man enters a large Las Vegas casino followed by his well-groomed hunting dog. The two make their way to a roulette table, and he sits down with his dog at his side. As the next game begins, the man’s dog tosses a mouthful of $1000 chips onto the table. Remarkably, the numbers each chip fall on pay off. The dog jumps up on the table, gathers up their winnings and heads off to another table, as the man follows. 

As before, the dog tosses a mouthful of chips onto the table for betting, and once again the couple walk away winners. To yet another table they head. This time the man’s dog dumps all of their winnings on one hand of Blackjack. Remarkably, the dealer presents an ace and king to the man. A bit shocked, the dealer presents the man with his winnings.  Not missing a beat, the dog hurls its massive body onto the game table, grabs all of their chips in its mouth and jumps back down to the man’s side. 

Tired from all of the gambling, they find a bar to sit down at. The man asks for a pint of ale for his dog and a club soda for himself. Puzzled by the man’s request, and the large pile of chips at the dog’s side, the bartender asks what type of dog does this very wealthy man have? Patting his canine companion on the head, he smiles and says, “An Irish Better…what else?”

 

Joke 779

11 May

A Dog Asks

  • Why do humans smell the flowers, but not each other?
  • When we get to heaven, can we sit on the couch? Or is it still the same old story?
  • Why are there cars named after the jaguar, the cougar, the mustang, the colt, the stingray and the rabbit, but not ONE named for a dog? How often do you see a cougar riding around? We do love a nice ride! Would it be so hard to rename the “Chrysler Eagle” the “Chrysler Beagle”?
  • If a dog barks his head off in the forest and no human hears him, is he still a bad dog?
  • We dogs can understand human verbal instructions, hand signals, whistles, horns, clickers, beepers, scent IDs, electromagnetic energy fields and Frisbee flight paths. What do humans understand?
  • More meatballs, less spaghetti.
  • Are there mailmen in Heaven? If there are, will I have to apologize?
  • When I get to Heaven may I have my testicles back?

Let me give you a list of just some of the things I must remember to be a good dog.

  1. I will not eat the cats’ food before they can eat it.
  2. I will not roll on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc. just because I like the way they smell.
  3. The litter box is not a cookie jar.
  4. The sofa is not a face towel.
  5.  The garbage collector is not stealing our stuff.
  6. I will not play tug-of-war with Dad’s underwear when he’s on the toilet.
  7. Sticking my nose into someone’s crotch is an unacceptable way of saying “hello.”
  8. I don’t need to suddenly stand straight up when I’m under the coffee table.
  9. I must shake the rainwater out of my fur before entering the house — not after.
  10. I will not come in from outside and immediately drag my butt.
  11. I will not sit in the middle of the living room and lick my crotch.
  12. The cat is not a squeaky toy so when I play with him and he makes that noise, it’s usually not a good thing.

From dogbreedinfo.

I’m Dog Stupid

6 Apr

Stuff I say to my dogs

I caught myself saying the following yesterday:

  • Will you please get off my bladder? [Molly wanted me to get up when I wasn't quite ready]
  • Stop nagging me!  [Toby wanted his walk]
  • Come on, Moo!  [Molly didn't want her walk]
  • Are you coming to help me?  [Make the dinner.  Toby joins me in the kitchen every night and Spud tells me I say the same thing to him every night.  My hope is always wasted: Toby never does help]
  • Don’t lick the books!  ['Books' can be substituted by carpet/couch/cushions/trousers/walls/floor...anything, really.  Molly, also known as Licky Moo, likes to lick things; especially my sleeping face when the bladder trick doesn't work]

My dogs vilipend me at every opportunity; brought on, no doubt, by my habit of being mush in their adorable little paws.

What daft things do you say to your pets?

Note for those of you who Know Who You Are:  You needn’t bother telling me that that’s why you don’t have dogs; I know it!

The previous two words:

Tacent: rapt attention in an audience, more flattering than applause.  What my dogs show me when I’m eating.

Usageaster: a self-styled authority on language usage.  What I become when I see an apostrophe in the wrong place and a misspelled word in the public domain.

*

For more Six Word Saturdays, go here.

Joke 698

19 Feb

On Dogs

Funny Dog Sign

Funny Dog Sign (Photo credit: Wyoming_Jackrabbit)

  • The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue – Anonymous
  • Don’t accept your dog’s admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful – Ann Landers
  • There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face – Ben Williams
  • A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself – Josh Billings
  • The average dog is a nicer person than the average person – Andy Rooney
  • We give dogs time we can spare, space we can spare and love we can spare. And in return, dogs give us their all. It’s the best deal man has ever made – M. Acklam
  • I wonder if other dogs think poodles are members of a weird religious cult – Rita Rudner  
  • A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down – Robert Benchley
  • Anybody who doesn’t know what soap tastes like never washed a dog – Franklin P. Jones
  • If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons – James Thurber
  • If your dog is fat, you aren’t getting enough exercise – Anonymous
  • If you think dogs can’t count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then give him only two of them – Phil Pastoret
  • Ever consider what our dogs must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul: chicken, pork, half a cow. They must think we’re the greatest hunters on earth – Anne Tyler

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