Doggy ambivalence ...

[Jerry Freeman]

Step one: "I can't throw it if you don't bring it here."

Step two: "I can't throw it if you don't let go."

Step three: Dog bounds joyfully after thrown item and brings it back to just beyond reach.

Repeat steps one, two and three about 236 times.

Best wishes,
Jerry

[Joseph E. Smith]

... sounds about right.



Our games of fetch the frisbee are really, keep away from my human.

[Wombat]

I played a similar game with a delightful staffy. Now, staffies are bred to keep gripping what they've got I think. But staffies are also intelligent. And this one realised quickly that if she didn't let go of the ball she didn't get to chase it again. But giving it up goes against the grain.

Her solution. Look away from me and let me look away from her. If I'm quick I'm allowed to steal it while she's looking away. But give it to me? Never. She'd come right up to me with that big staffy grin. But getting the ball to me couldn't be straightforward.

[missy]

Buster drops the toy ON you...... but is ready to pounce and grab it back as soon as you reach for it. Buster also "kills" toys - he shakes the heck out of them. He attempted this with the bladder out of a soccer ball once - whapped himself silly!

Wyley never has gotten the idea of toys in general. About all he'll do is wait until Buster is otherwise occupied, and take it to the other room and hide it, or lay down on it.

[emmline]

I have to distract my terrier/shepherd hybrid by pretending what I truly lust after is a different object, stick, whatever. Then, when her attention is diverted, grab the actual toy and gloat a little before throwing it.

[Jerry Freeman]

Antoine is a 9.3 pound miniature English poodle. We moved the dining table to the side to make room for the Christmas tree, so there's now a straight throw from the living room, through the dining room to the kitchen, a distance of about 40 feet over hardwood floors.

In the living room is a five foot by eight foot wool oriental rug that's Antoine's favorite place (I think he may believe he's killed a 5 X 8 sheep and he's subduing it with the weight of his massive frame).

He's hilarious to watch as he skitters and slides at warpspeed across the slippery floor pursuing a thrown object.

I discovered, however, that there can be no other wool rug between the kitchen and the living room. We have a three foot round rug that we put in the dining room near the tree. As long as that rug was there, he wouldn't retrieve all the way back to the living room, but would come to ground on the intervening rug every time. So I had to tweak the configuration to get it to play better.

Best wishes,
Jerry

[Jerry Freeman]

Wyley never has gotten the idea of toys in general. About all he'll do is wait until Buster is otherwise occupied, and take it to the other room and hide it, or lay down on it.

Antoine has his own toy box, a milk crate next to the 5 X 8 sheep he's subdued. He'll go over to the box and take considerable time picking out which thing he wants to play with. If there's been no one in the house for awhile, on returning, one finds an impressive amount of litter on that rug, of things Antione has chosen from various parts of the house to play with. His favorites, unfortunately, are toothbrushes and combs, which he ruins in one go. So I buy toothbrushes and combs in quantity and remind the children to keep them where Antoine can't get them.

Best wishes,
Jerry

[Mitch]

I had this dog once,

his name is now Spot mark#1, but in those days just plain Spot. He was totally black - cross black-retriever/staffy/newfoundland. The Newfoundland part was his head - the rest just looked like a labradawg with the whole thing strong as a staffy. One day we gave him a boiled egg in its shell which he happily munched. After that he would chew golf balls, rocks, mushrooms or anything remotely egg-like. He was fond of wandering off, and we were worried that he might frighten somebody but we were loath to tether him. My father suggested an old remedy "tie a brick to his collar with enough rope for the brick to touch the ground - he'll be able to drag it round but he won't be able to run." So we did. The next thing was a neighbor letting us know that our dog had been seen around town carrying a brick in his mouth. After we got him home, my father said "Oh well, you'll have to just tie him to the clothes-line with about 10 feet of rope with the knot loose on the line so it can slide. He'll be able to run up and down happy as you like." Well my father's clothes-line was wires suspended between posts - ours was a rotary clothes hoist, but I thought "the principle's the same" so that's what we did. Later that day I was alerted by a squeeling, scraping sound on the road outside the house. Nothing to worry about - it was just Spot #1 100 yards down the road draging our hoist behind him - including the two-foot-six lump of concrete that once held the thing in the ground!

Strangely, i've never asked my father's advice since.

[Tyler]

I had this dog once,

his name is now Spot mark#1, but in those days just plain Spot. He was totally black - cross black-retriever/staffy/newfoundland. The Newfoundland part was his head - the rest just looked like a labradawg with the whole thing strong as a staffy. One day we gave him a boiled egg in its shell which he happily munched. After that he would chew golf balls, rocks, mushrooms or anything remotely egg-like. He was fond of wandering off, and we were worried that he might frighten somebody but we were loath to tether him. My father suggested an old remedy "tie a brick to his collar with enough rope for the brick to touch the ground - he'll be able to drag it round but he won't be able to run." So we did. The next thing was a neighbor letting us know that our dog had been seen around town carrying a brick in his mouth. After we got him home, my father said "Oh well, you'll have to just tie him to the clothes-line with about 10 feet of rope with the knot loose on the line so it can slide. He'll be able to run up and down happy as you like." Well my father's clothes-line was wires suspended between posts - ours was a rotary clothes hoist, but I thought "the principle's the same" so that's what we did. Later that day I was alerted by a squeeling, scraping sound on the road outside the house. Nothing to worry about - it was just Spot #1 100 yards down the road draging our hoist behind him - including the two-foot-six lump of concrete that once held the thing in the ground!

Strangely, i've never asked my father's advice since.

My father used to breed newfies! What a trip! great dogs.
once when I was a wee lad, we had a cop show up at our door with the animal control and forrest service and said that they were there to take the bear out of our backyard. Apparantly a neighbor saw one of our dogs above the fence standing on it's hind legs...
One friend of my father's who also bred newfies related a tale of one of his larger males being tethered to a car with an engine lift chain (he kept eating or breaking everything else) and left alone for the day. The dog managed to pull his car half a mile down his street.

[Mitch]

My father used to breed newfies! What a trip! great dogs.
once when I was a wee lad, we had a cop show up at our door with the animal control and forrest service and said that they were there to take the bear out of our backyard. Apparantly a neighbor saw one of our dogs above the fence standing on it's hind legs...
One friend of my father's who also bred newfies related a tale of one of his larger males being tethered to a car with an engine lift chain (he kept eating or breaking everything else) and left alone for the day. The dog managed to pull his car half a mile down his street.

AHA now I know where Spot #1 got his temperament.

He was actually the result of a strange breeding program in a town called Cullen Bullen - this town is totally populated by a motorcycle gang called "Life and Death Motorcycle club" they were in a competition to see who could breed the meanest dawg - Spot was one of the resulting puppies. One of his endearing traits was the-bringing-of-presents which he would leave on our back step. These were treasures he had obtained from neighbor's yards - chewed-up footballs, items of clothing, bits of chair etc. The best one he gave us was a long-dead cat all dried and hollow in perfect condition.

[Phil Hardy]

I have just posted todays walkies with my beloved "Dogit"
We spend every afternoon out on the bike or walking,today we went along the local Grand Union canal,one of my favs.
I have made a short movie of today.
www.kerrywhistles.com/dl.php?group=18

Woof.

[TomB]

I have just posted todays walkies with my beloved "Dogit"
We spend every afternoon out on the bike or walking,today we went along the local Grand Union canal,one of my favs.
I have made a short movie of today.
www.kerrywhistles.com/dl.php?group=18

Woof.

OK, what the heck am I doing wrong. Everytime you post a link to a non-music clip, I can never find it. I had this problem way back when you apparently posted something about flying and now, I can't find the clip of the dog.

Where are you hiding these things??

Tom

[Phil Hardy]

Tom,just look in the MOVIES section under PICK OF THE WEEK and click on "Dogday Afternnon"
IT'S THERE.The link works for me .
P

[Montana]

Wow! Thanks, Phil.
Not everyday I can go riding around England. What a great trail - how long is that?
Do people live year-round in those barges or are they just for vacation? There sure are a lot of them.
I did like the Lock cottages. The whole film is a nice little escape.
And to get back on topic, what kind of pooch do you have? Is she young?
Seemed like a young boxer or something...

[Darwin]

I had a cat who was a great retriever--mostly of little twists of cellophane or foil candy wrappers. When I got tired of playing and failed to throw, she'd whap me with her paw.

She was a great hunter, too--gophers, mice, birds, lizards, snakes, and, once, a weasel.

She was like a little puppy, always following me around the house while her mother and siblings lounged about in their catnaps. While I worked at my computer, she sat on a chair nearby, ready to move when I did.

After eight years, I still miss her.