The Dog That Slept With Its Ass In The Air

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

I’ve said before on this blog that I’m a doggie person. Generally speaking dogs and me get on reasonably well, with just a few exceptions. It’s no secret either that by far my favorite breed is the German Shepherd which is an incredibly loyal and intelligent companion. I’ve been blessed with having two of these family members in my life so far. What an awful shame that their lifespan isn’t more like our own.

I have found out that other breeds and cross-breeds are nowhere close to the GSD. We’ve had three recently, and each one dumber than the last. There was “Lassie” a white fluffy terrier type thingy. Nice little dog and friendly, but you couldn’t even teach it it’s own name. It had been given to us by a nice Korean lady and I offered the theory that it could only speak Korean and didn’t know what we all chatting about. Using google translate I learned a couple of Korean words, but the result was the same blank look.

Then we were gifted another puppy, which we were told was a purebred Rotweiller, but which turned out to be a cross between that and a Pitbull or some other equally macho breed. I really detest the whole macho Pitbull syndrome and wanted to get rid of this one right away. But I was out-voted. Then a few months later it started taking the garden apart with the efficiency of a builder’s excavator, so suddenly the votes were on my side and we got someone to take it off our hands.

Now, as I think I’ve said before on this blog, we have a dog that thinks it’s a cat. I call this one a Doberwaawaahund. Another dumb dog that does not seem capable of learning anything. One of the things it can’t learn is to keep off the public road. It’s never done crawling through the bars of our gate and running down the street barking as if it owned the place.

To top it all, despite the bravado, this is without doubt the most cowardly dog I have ever seen. It is scared of everything.

To cut a long story short, on one of its escapades in the street it either met with another dog, a car or a person fed up with all its annoying barking, but it yelped home one day with a broken tail, part of which subsequently had to be removed by the vet.

I didn’t know dogs could get depressed, but for a few weeks or more after the operation this dumb dog was mystified as to what had happened to the rest of his tail. Couldn’t figure it out at all. Worse than that it imagined all its tail was still there, somewhere, and it was so afraid of getting hurt that it just wouldn’t lie down. Not at all, even to sleep.

And so we ended up with the dog that slept with its ass in the air.

Normal Dumb Dog With Tail

Dumb Dog Shortened Tail

Sleeping With Its Ass In The Air

Sometimes Dogs Know More Than We Give Them Credit For!

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

It’s Friday 13^th today apparently. Superstitious people would tell you that that’s bad luck. Well your getting yet another blog post from me so I suppose there might be something in it. Not that I’m superstitious in the least – I think being superstitious is bad luck.

On a similar subject to Wednesday’s post about Oscar the Grim Reaper cat, but staying with dogs again, here’s another short story about our German Shepherd dog.

As I think I’ve said already this dog had become a member of the family. He was a great companion and he liked me a lot because I fed him and took him for walks and played in the yard with him and all that good stuff that you do. But nevertheless he was always fonder of my mother than anyone else.

He loved all the family too, of course, and was ultra protective. As you know from yesterday, he did not like strangers at all and was particularly vicious in his distaste for the postman who rolled in every morning about 10 or 10.30 am.

A routine had developed in the house. When the doorbell would sound there was a scramble to get to the front door first. Lots of running and skidding and if truth be told, sometime the breaking of wind could be heard too. And the dog was almost as bad!

He was tail up, barking, growling and pawing at the glass in the door busting to get at whoever it was. I made valiant attempts, but I seldom if ever got there first, although I would capture him at the door and then attend to the visitors.

If the person there was authorized to come inside he allowed it, but reluctantly and always made sure he was between my mother and the stranger. Never left her side in fact. He never touched anyone, but it did make for some short visits by some of her cronies, not that I was particularly annoyed about that.

At night he would always take up guard duty on the landing outside her bedroom door and that’s where he slept every night.

That routine went on for several years and then unfortunately my mother became ill. As she got worse we moved her downstairs to a study, which was more convenient for everyone and she did not have to cope with the stairs. The dog duly took up sentry position outside that door every night. Eventually one morning she passed away.

Now if you have ever experienced that, one thing that happens is that a lot of people call at the house. And I mean a LOT. It goes on all day. It starts almost immediately when the Doctor calls. Then there are relatives who start to appear. Then the undertaker arrives. Then more people, neighbors, friends, more relatives and so forth. I must say people are incredibly kind at times like that, bringing food, helping to cater for the rest etc.

On a normal day this activity would have caused me a lot of bother running after the dog every time the doorbell sounded and making sure everyone got ushered into the house and then back out again without interference.

However, that morning was completely different. The dog walked away from the bedroom door and went into the dining room and lay down on the floor.

The Doctor arrived. The dog didn’t move, or bark, or even get up. Same with the undertaker and everyone else who arrived. Even when the postman drove in the dog only glanced in the direction of the door but didn’t make a move towards it or the postman.

And that went on the whole day. The only time he got up was when I took him outside for a while for a walk round the yard. Dogs are remarkable animals, especially the intelligent ones. They don’t say much but they are ultra sensitive to people’s moods and what’s happening around them.

In fact sometimes they know a lot more than we give them credit for and frequently they know a lot more than their owners!

The Supernatural Dog That Could Not Be Stopped!

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

Cry "Havoc," and let slip the dogs of war.

William Shakespeare, ‘Julius Caesar’, Act 3 scene 1

I started off today’s blog with a post in mind that was a bit of a follow on to yesterday’s tale about Oscar the cat, but as I gathered my thoughts together another story came to mind which I will share with you first. You’ll get the other tomorrow, all being well. I’m sure you can hardly wait :o)

I was reminded about a friend of mine called Donald. Every time I spoke to Donald he was making arrangements for me to go to his house or him to come to mine. The arrangements very seldom seemed to come off, and I knew why. You see Donald was terrified of dogs, I mean petrified, and consequently always made some sort of excuse for not turning up.

One day, however, he did, along with a mate of his called Harry, who had no such intense fears. They always phoned in advance to make sure I would be at home so I knew about the visit and was prepared.

In our house at that time the front door opened into a fairly large hall. Off the hall, directly facing the front door and slightly to the left, there was a corridor, and separating the two was a mahogany ‘Georgian’ type door, which instead of being solid wood is made in the form of a window to take small glass panes, in this case about about seven inches wide by about nine long.

Why is this important? Well, because normal people in a normal house would have the ‘Georgian’ door glazed, either with clear or ornamental glass, or sometimes a bit of both. However, in my house I hadn’t done any glazing, not because I hadn’t gotten around to it which would usually be the case, but because when it was glazed it made a solid barrier and I couldn’t hear anyone at the front door.

So, as I was saying, Donald and Harry duly arrived. I was prepared and the dog was in the study down the hall, not able to get to the front door, which I opened and let the two guys into the hall.

As I let them in I was all the while reassuring Donald that the dog was down in the study and the door connecting the corridor to the hall was firmly shut so there was no need to worry. 

Not quite taking my word for it, Donald’s head peered slowly round the front door, survey the landscape and seeing that the adjoining door was indeed shut got a boost of confidence and courage and walked manly-like into the hall.

We only had to go three or four steps and we were in the sitting room, but then fate took a hand.

The dog heard the strange voices and came to investigate. First he stuck his head around the study door and took a good look at the strangers. The strangers in turn, particularly Donald took an even better look at him and for about a second, maybe two, that was all that happened. 

Then the dog decided he needed a closer look and walked towards the door. To my surprise Donald did the same to get a better look at the dog. Strangely enough he liked dogs, and would even have liked one of his own, but he was just so very, very afraid of them.

And then one of those once in a million things happened.

The dog didn’t like the idea of Donald heading in his direction and started to move forwards to wards the hall, not running but quite quickly. Until he got to the door, which was firmly closed.

Now you are probably expecting the door to burst open or for the dog to somehow open it. But it was much better than that.

The dog kept on walking towards the door, now starting to bear his teeth a little to emphasize his displeasure at these interlopers in his house. Donald, surprisingly, stood his ground, but only for a couple of seconds, because when the dog got to the door, mysteriously and very ominously for Donald, his head kept on coming into the hall -- through the unglazed part of the door that was tightly shut and that poor Donald thought had glass in it.

One and on the dog came. First the nose, then the eyes, then the ears, then the neck, then more of the neck  –  it was all a bit like that scene in Terminator 2 where the liquid metal robot pushes through the locked gate in the mental hospital.

Of course the unglazed panel was far too small to allow the dog’s shoulders and body through, but in Donald’s head there was no time for rational thought, this dog could walk through solid objects!

I could partially see the look on Donald’s face. It really was priceless. It had changed from complete confidence, through equally complete disbelief and momentarily he turned his head towards me and his friend Harry with a clear “How can this be? What’s happening? What kind of place is this? Explain it and quick, FFS!” look etched over his face.

But I hadn’t time to answer, not that I could have anyway, I was in stitches laughing at the whole show. Then Donald’s ‘fright & flight’ reaction kicked in and he bolted for the front door clawing furiously at locks and bolts and door handles to get out of this terrifying and  inexplicable place.

He never did come back to see me after that!

But did he have some story to tell when he got home.

Have you had similar experiences? Send them along. Let the world know what is happening before it is too late.

I Am A Doggie Person

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

I am an unashamed doggie person. They’re great company, fiercely loyal, offer friendship and protection and if you understand them they’re just great to have around. As someone else noted, you can also say whatever balderdash you can think of to them and they’ll always look up at you with that “That was really awesome, I wish I’d thought of that” look on their faces.

Now I know that dog ownership is a very subjective thing, a bit like cars, some people like Ford others Mercedes, or Toyota, or whatever. With dogs some people like big dogs, others small dogs, other a specific breed etc., etc. 

I like almost all dogs, with the exception of the tiny, pampered, useless and obnoxiously yappy sort. I’m a bit the same with people, come to think of it. And most dogs seem to like me, though not all. I remember my cousin used to have a collie dog that got along with everyone - except me. When I was in his house all it would do was lie in beneath the television table and growl and growl, teeth beared and ready to pounce (it seemed). It never did, but that probably had more to do with the fact that I never took my eyes off it.  

I have owned a few dogs. The first was a Toy Terrier, when I was a kid. Nice little dog, went blind late in its life. Then we’ve had another small white terrier-type mongrel thingy. Very friendly, very, very stupid. Just could not be taught to do anything. There was also a Rotpit or Bullweiller (a cross between a Rottweiler and a Pitbull whatever that makes), friendly with the family, not so keen on strangers, incredibly strong and just demolished everything in its path, particularly the garden. Again dumb as the proverbial “bag of hammers”.

Now we have a cross between a Chihuahua and a Dachshund or Doberman. It was hard to tell with this lot because no three of the puppies were alike (I think their mummy must have been a bit of a floosie!). Lovely looking little doggie and very friendly, but unfortunately it is really stupid too and, probably as a consequence, disobedient.   

Oh yes, and it also thinks it’s a cat! It refuses to eat anything but cat food. And now our cat has had kittens again and the dog spends it’s time picking them up and carrying them about and reorganizing them. Until Mrs Cat sees him that is. Then there is a few harsh words spat in his direction, cat claws start flying and she gives him a few right hooks and left jabs until he thinks better of it and runs away, leaving her to collect the kittens and assemble them back in her bed. I think if I was a dog and a cat beat me up I find it hard to live with, but as I said, he’s not so bright!

The best dogs I ever had, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have had two of them, were German Shepherds. They have a bad reputation in some less well informed circles, but if you want a proper dog, one that can protect you and yours and one that is super-intelligent then you won’t be disappointed. They really are a cut above the rest.

So what brought all this on? Well a friend sent me some photos of dogs on Monday. Have a look below, particularly at the expressions on their faces, and if you don’t laugh then there is definitely something wrong with you. They are from a series called underwater dogs.

Enjoy!