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Dog Tales

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BeltFed View Drop Down
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    Posted: April/13/2012 at 15:11

I recently lost a good dog to old age for the most part. Since he was such a tuff old dog with a good nature, I wanted to remember him for his life, and not his last days. As I thought about some of the entertaining things he did, I realized there were often other of my dogs involved. I also realized that I'm not the only pet owner, and that many of you have stories about your animals that would put a smile on your face, a tear in your eye, make you roll on the floor laughing, or realize how devoted to you they were.

So with Ed's permission, I'm addig this thread to the Ed Show.
Let us hear your tales of your dogs courage, your cat's antics, or that special moment that makes our pets hold that special place in our hearts.
 
Here's one of mine:
 
A friend of mine likes to come up to my place for some early season squirrel hunting. It gives us a chance to scout out some good dear season hunting spots, take our guns for a walk, and go get breakfast, at one of our favorite restaurants. If we do see a squirrel, it's usually a tuff shot since we use .22rim fires. If we get more than 2 squirrels between us, it's a big haul. Then we clean the squirrels throw them in the freezer, and off to breakfast.
 
Now this particular day, I got 2 squirrels and my friend got 1. We started cleaning the squirrels when my 2 shepherds showed up and became pest over squirrel parts. Now my friend was a little leary of Travis, since he was a Shilo Shepherd that weighed 102lbs, and looked like a wolf. My friend had also had a previous encounter with Travis, but that's another tale. I hauled the 2 dogs back into the house, and told the wife t keep them there while we cleaned that mess of squirrels.
 
After we cleaned the squirrels, we went in the house to wash them up and put them in the freezer. Now my wife was in the ketchen, and my friend wanted to show off my 2 squirrels. Not realizing Travis was standing (hiding) at the end of the table; he lowered his hands to waist level with a squirrel in each hand and said to my wife "Now have you ever seen a nicer pair of squirrels". At this point Travis walked up and took one of the squirrels out of my friends hand, walked away and started eating it in 4 or 5 bites. Now my friends eyes got as big as q-balls and he sucked in half the air in the house. My wife started laughing and said "no I haven't, and neither has Travis". My friend said "I forgot he was in here, all I saw was teeth and mouth". I asked my friend if he got bit, and he said "no, and I'm not going to try and take it away from him".I said it doesn't matter, because I don't think anybody wants it now.
We all had a good laugh, and went to breakfast.
My friend always wanted to know where Travis was when we cleaned squirrels from then on.
 
Your turn.
Life's concerns should be about the 120lb pack your trying to get to the top of the mountain, and not the rock in your boot.
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Excellent
"Most folks are about as happy as they make their minds up to be" - Abraham Lincoln
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote cheaptrick Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/15/2012 at 17:58
We've had Dobermans for many years. We had a beautiful black male named Hezekiah when we lived in East Tennessee. 
He was around 8 months old or so and I had to take him to the vet in Lenoir City one Saturday for a check up of some sort, as I recall.
"Kiah" was a BIG boy, even at 8 months old. He didn't have a mean bone in his body, but was VERY imposing due to his size. We arrived at the vet's office that morning and were at the front door of the vet's office ready to go in, when an elderly lady with a Poodle was coming out at the same time.
Well....I opened the door for the lady and her pooch and kept Kiah, who was on a leash, to the side when he lunged at the poodle to investigate, more curious than anything. He got nose to nose with this Poodle and the smaller dog growled, lunged, and snapped back at my dog. Kiah JUMPS back away from the furious Poodle....runs behind me and proceeds to pee all over the sidewalk....scared to pieces... Whatever 

The lady looked at him and then up at me....laughs...and apologizes profusely in her Southern draw for her dog's actions. I assured her that neither she, nor her dog did anything wrong and bid her good day. 
I looked down at my BIG BAD Doberman and said...."You Sir, have disgraced yourself, your owner and your breed!" Bucky
This episode was also witnessed by several patrons in the lobby of the vet's waiting room, so I had that to contend with as well......Thank goodness that Poodle was on a leash or it would have eaten my boy up. 


  
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote SVT_Tactical Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/16/2012 at 07:12
Laugh
"Most folks are about as happy as they make their minds up to be" - Abraham Lincoln
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote budperm Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/16/2012 at 09:10
HA! Excellent
 
I was an Asthmatic as a child and allergic to most everything to boot.  That meant we could only have dogs that didn't shed like poodles or chihuahuas.  Well mom started with chihuahuas first.
Tidbit was his name and usually he was quite friendly to people and other dogs.  A neighbor a couple of doors down had a dobbie (a silver) thjat was quite nasty to most anything and was always kept on a chain.  I remember one day the chain broke and here comes the dobbie at full speed.  I'm playing with tidbit in the front yard and was starting to head for the door while calling Tidibit in behind me.  well Tidbit wasn't budging.  He had positioned himself between me and the approaching dobbie and was standing his ground.  The dobbie barking like crazy goes to bite tidbit
and tidbit launches himself into the air and latches onto the dobbie's upper lip and won't let go!!!
The next thing I know the dobbie is running in circles yelping and shaking his head trying to dislodge Tidbit from his upper lip.  Tidbit is holding on for dear life and growling like crazy.  Then Tidbit starts to shake his head like he is trying to tear off the dobbie's lip.  The doobie is still running around in circles yelping and now has a look of pure terror in he's eyes.
Finally the Dobbie bolts for home with tidbit still hanging off his lip and growling.  I chased them all the way back to the dobbie's house and found the pair on the front porch with the Dobbie laying on the ground with his head under his paws shaking all over and tidbit standing over his nose barking up a storm.  I called Tidbit and with a final bark he turned around, kicked sand at the Dobbie and came strutting back to me.  That Dobbie never came down to our house again!!! 
Don't messs with a Chihuahua!!! Excellent 
"Peace is that brief glorious moment in history when everybody stands around reloading".
--Thomas Jefferson



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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote BeltFed Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/16/2012 at 10:22
ExcellentLaugh
It's not the size of the dog in fight. It's the size of the fight in the dog.
Life's concerns should be about the 120lb pack your trying to get to the top of the mountain, and not the rock in your boot.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote BeltFed Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/17/2012 at 13:02
Just happened to remember this one this morning.
 
When we lived in old Looneyville, we had few places to walk the dogs. We could go to Central Park 5 blocks away, and walk through street robbery central, and past the homeless drunks begging for money, or we could go to a 1/2 block size field a block away that belonged to UofL. We chose the field 99.9% of the time.
Now to give Tracer, our 2nd German Shepherd a decent workout, we would walk around the edge of the field and throw a frisbee for her, until she was good and tired. We also made her carry her frisbee to and from the field. It kept her quiet and focused.
One day we got to the field where we unleashed the dogs, and out in the middle of the field was a squirrel. Tracer saw the squirrel, and the squirrel saw Tracer at the same time. The squirrel took off for some trees on the edge of the field, and Tracer took off for the squirrel. Tracer caught up with the squirrel about 15 yards from the trees, we thought the squirrel was toast. The problem was Tracer still had her frisbee in her mouth, and was unwilling to let go of it. Not able to catch the squirrel with the frisbee, she did the next best thing, she hit the squirrel on the head with the frisbee. Now this stunned the squirrel slightly, and it looked like his fate was sealed, but he took off again, and Tracer hit him again. Now the squirrel started dodging and running (with a stunned look on his face), and Tracer kept swatting at that squirrel with the frisbee, but the squirrel finally managed to make it to a tree and safety. It ran up the tree and started barking at Tracer. At this point Tracer spits the frisbee out of her mouth and started barking at the squirrel. The wife and I were laughing so hard we couldn't walk straight. The look of frustration on that dogs face, as her and that squirrel barked at each other was priceless.
If she had just spit that frisbee out, she could have had fresh squirrel, instead, the wife and I got a really good laugh.
Life's concerns should be about the 120lb pack your trying to get to the top of the mountain, and not the rock in your boot.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote budperm Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/17/2012 at 13:41
My paternal Grandmother divorced and remarried a Civil Engineer.  He had a company that put in most of the cables for Mayport naval Station radar and Communications.  As partial payment he took 16 wooden barricks.
 
He then built Holiday Cottage Court on the Ocean front in Seminole Beach, Florida and ran that the last half of his life.
 
For security and companionship They raised Airdales which look like huge brown and black terriers.
Airdales love kids and are very protective.  I remember playing on the beach as a kid with kellie the momma Airdale and two of her many offspring.  The kid I was playing with was called to dinner but didn't want to leave the beach. Well his mom came marching down the dunes griping I blue streak and seeing red.  The kid was obviously scaried and tried to hide behind me...  Well Kellie took all this in and then positioned herself between the mother and the kid and wouldn't let her get near the kid.  Everything was fine until the lady raised her hand in a threatening manor.  Kellie promptly started growling and advancing on the lady.  Kellie marched that mom right back up the dunes all the way to her cottage.  Kellie came back down and licked both me and the kid and we went back to playing.  A few minutes later my stepgrandpa shows up with the lady hiding in his shadow.  She was pretty mad.  Gramps asked me what had happened?  I told him... kid didn't want to leave and his mom got mad and raised her hand to smack him then Kellie took charge and protected the kid.  Gramps told the lady he was sorry but that was the way the dogs were trained, to protect.  The lady obviously POed started to yell at him...Kellie took one step forward and started to growl again.  The lady turned white, shout up, collected her kid and high tailed it back to the Cottage.  Gramps turned to Kellie and scratched her behind her ear chuckled and left....  Kellie was the ugliest big dog I ever loved... Excellent
 
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                                                Dead Deer Dog Farts
A friend of mine, I'll call Dave, came up for some deer hunting, so off we went. He managed to kill a doe (we hunt for meat, not horns) in the bottom of a small valley we call the hollar monster (because it's so deep and steep). We dressed it out and took the meat he wanted, and left the rest. I figured the scavangers would take care of it, and I didn't figure my dogs would find it that far off the trail.
Well guess who mucked up. Travis, Tracer, and Barkly (our Shelty) all found that deer carcus, and dined quite heavily on it. I didn't find out until they showed up in the front yard, playing with deer legs. Well the wife was P'Oed, she figured that dogs with diarrhea was not a good thing. Little did we know that there are worse things.
The next morning the wife and I had to go out for about 3 or 4 hours, and we always leave the dogs in the house. We also figured we were going to come home to a mess, but that's why we have tile floors (not really, but they come in handy). We finished our buisness and hurried home, hoping to divert a disaster.
We got out of the car and walked up to the back door. OH MY GAWD, that SMELLLL, we're going to need coal shovels and buckets of water and bleach we thought. That smell is coming through 2 doors and a mud room, and it is already unbareable. Opened the back door and then the smell really hit us. That's right, the smell at the back door was just a wiff, a slight scent of what greeted us in the mud room. By this time the wife was reading me the riot act, and I was affraid I was going to be sleeping on the couch and paying for her hotel room. I started to worry that maybe the dogs had died, the smell was so bad, but Barkly and Tracer started barking, something Tracer rarely did.
We opened the door to the house, and it was worse than coming through the back door. A buzzard couldn't have survived in there. I felt sorry for the dogs and they made the stinch. That's right, stinch. As we walked in the house we checked the floor for accidents, but nothing was there. I mean NOTHING. No where in the house was there an accident, no diarrhea, no huge piles of pup poop, not even a skid mark. The dogs have GAS, REALLY REALLY BAD GAS.
We opened the house and emptied a can of air freshiner, but it was to late; the smell had taken root and it wasn't leaving, no matter what we did.
Well after the wife chewed on my rear for the next hour, telling me that was the last time deer were ever going to be hunted on our property, and Dave was banished forever, and I had to remove or bury the carcus immeadiatly, I took to the hollar to bury the carcus.
Remember I said there are things worse than dogs with diarrhea; how about dead deer dog farts, as the incident became to be known by. You see poop can be cleaned up, and the house can be aired out, but dead deer dog farts seep into everything, and as long as the dogs have the offending dead deer in them, the farts continue. In our case, it took 3 days, or maybe I lost my sense of smell.
Now I called Dave and told him what happened, and he felt terrible. He came by the house a week later and apoligized to the wife and offered her a scented candle that he had written a note on, the note said, "Dead Deer Dog Fart Remover". For a minute, I thought she was going to hit him with it, but she accepted his apology, and made him swear to dispose of any deer kills in the future, where the dogs couldn't get to it.
 
You know I caught Travis trying to dig up that carcus 3 days after I buried it. Good thing the wife made me stand guard over it. 
Life's concerns should be about the 120lb pack your trying to get to the top of the mountain, and not the rock in your boot.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote cheaptrick Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/18/2012 at 16:08
Excellent
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Big Grin
"Most folks are about as happy as they make their minds up to be" - Abraham Lincoln
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote budperm Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/18/2012 at 16:26
I give that one to you Lynn!  Sounds like Dead Deer Farts have raw cabbage farts beat hands to you nose!!! ExcellentExcellentExcellent
"Peace is that brief glorious moment in history when everybody stands around reloading".
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Alan Robertson Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/18/2012 at 18:47
Hey Bud-
Chihuahuas make good trotline bait.
"Garg'n uair dhuisgear"
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Alan Robertson Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/19/2012 at 20:59
"Garg'n uair dhuisgear"
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Alan Robertson Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/19/2012 at 21:06
"Garg'n uair dhuisgear"
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote budperm Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/20/2012 at 00:13
 
  I think someone is bored and looking for trouble!!! Wink
"Peace is that brief glorious moment in history when everybody stands around reloading".
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Alan Robertson Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/20/2012 at 01:03
"Garg'n uair dhuisgear"
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote BeltFed Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/20/2012 at 09:33
Cat Tales are good too.
 
Siamese on rye, hold the tail.
Life's concerns should be about the 120lb pack your trying to get to the top of the mountain, and not the rock in your boot.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote BeltFed Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: April/24/2012 at 14:34
It's time for a dog tale.
 
Our first sheltie was getting up in years, and we had cut his walks short. Our practice was to take Tracer, Travis, and Jasper (the sheltie) on the first leg of the walk, and then take Jasper back to the house, then finish the rest of the walk with Travis and Tracer.
I had started one of these walks when Travis disappeared. Not thinking to much about it, I continued the walk, and would occasionally call for him. I finished the first leg of the walk and Tracer and I took Jasper back to the house and continued the walk. Travis still hasn't shown up, so I told Tracer to go get him. She took off into the woods, and in about 5 minutes comes back with Travis carrying a young racoon in his mouth. They both come up to me, and it is obvious this coon is still alive, and very pissed off. I told Travis to drop the coon, but he didn't want to. Finally after several commands, Travis bit down on the coon, then put him down. This is when things got exciting. While the coon was hurt, he was not down, and I was the first thing he saw. That coon came after me with both arms out trying to grab my leg and his teeth were bared, and he was snarreling. I chambered a round in my rifle and started trotting backward, and taking aim, but Travis and Tracer both were trying to grab the coon and getting in my line of fire (should have let them have that coon). I was yelling at the dogs to move (so I could get a shot), and trying to keep that coon off my leg. Finally I got a clear shot and took it, expecting an instant stop. That little sucker wasn't phased (did I miss). Round 2, I know I hit him, but he's still coming. Round 3, he's slowing down, but he hasn't stopped. Round 4, finally, he goes down, but he's not dead. Travis get him; Travis finished him off. His bite proved more powerful than a 55gr. FMJ .223, more than once.
We finished our walk.
Life's concerns should be about the 120lb pack your trying to get to the top of the mountain, and not the rock in your boot.
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