Squirrel!!!
Dear Leet,
My person also got me one of those instruments of torture. I discovered that lying down and refusing to go anywhere with it on worked wonders. Now she uses one of those chokey collars but if I don’t pull, it doesn’t bother me.
DMark, Surly and I lived in Germany for three years. All those dogs had been lobotomized and were no fun at all. They didn’t even want to sniff my butt. I mean, really! How rude!
Ramush
Dear Leet,
My mama got me one of those and I hated it too. She didn’t care! I rubbed my face on the road until it bled, but did she give in? She did not! Then she said she was fed up and took me home and did NOT. TAKE. IT. OFF. I had to wear it almost all the time for a while. Actually I wore it so much I quit noticing it. THEN when I got to have it off again, I realized it means walk-time! Now she just holds the nosey part in front of my nose and I stick my nose right in because walkwalkwalkwalk!!!
It helped when she took lots of little treats along too. When I would try to scrape my face off on the road she would wave a treat at me and then give it to me as soon as I walked nicely. I’m easy to distract that way. Good luck!
Your friend,
Damnit Sally
from Tobermory and Attila, the cats who run Baker’s apartment(never mind we have to share with that upstart dachshund Nathan)
We are reporting your post for the bad language used above!
Walk along all nice and suddenly throw yourself on the ground and start hacking like a cat horking a hairball. The idiot on the other end of the leash will fall to her knees and pull the muzzle off, thus allowing you to run wildly through the parking lot and maybe getting to run on the highway.
I’m not allowed to walk dogs anymore.
Dear Leet,
Can you fetch? If so, kindly fetch me a bucket.
Regrets,
Rob
Dammit Sally,
Are we long lost littermates?
Dammit Higgins
P.S. to Leet…can’t say I have that issue as I have one of those prongy things for a collar. My problem is the couple I live with keep shooing me away, holding their noses and saying something about gassing the air. Weird humans.
Fiona again, here…
MROWR! RAAWR! FSSST!
So there.
Leet,
Be like me (everything is a chew toy) When he goes out of the room; gnaw on it like a piece of rawhide until he can’t use it anymore & throw it away, like the sofa pillows & the afghan (blanket not dog) & my brothers’ homework & their action figures & the magazines & the RSA token, & the computer wire, & the…gotta go, he’s coming back, but you get the idea.
O.b.L.
Leet,
My mom got me the Halti the day she brought she home because she says it’s “…the greatest thing ever invented.” I never had a problem with it and we go for walks & runs all the time. And I’m a Blue Tick Coon Hound.
Trust me, your Granddad will be much happier and willing to take you for walks when you’re wearing it, and we all know that when our humans are happy everything is right in the world.
Good luck!
Your friend,
Ruby Tuesday
<all the cats in the thread>
The obsequiousness is strong in this one.
</all the cats in this thread>
Real sad.
I didn’t mean to do it. Grampa and I went out to get the mail, and I was off my leash, and there was another dog being walked that Grampa didn’t see. And I ran at him and barked at him because he didn’t want to play with me. And then I didn’t come when I was called, and kept trying to circle away from Grampa and get back to the dog to bark at it.
I didn’t mean to do it. I was just excited, and I wanted to see if the other dog would play with me. And I have been in the house all day. But Grampa hollered at me real bad, and told me I was a naughty dog, and told me we couldn’t play in the yard anymore today because I was Bad Dog. And he made me sit and stay until the other dog was out of sight.
I’m real, real sorry for being Bad Dog. Tell Grampa that I am trying hard to be Good Dog now, and I will try to remember not to chase other dogs, and that I was real good playing Fetch this morning and didn’t jump and try to grab the throwie thing out of his hand.
I don’t like it when Grampa is mad at me.
Regards,
Leet
Poor leet. Just remember, no one can be good all the time. And it gets easier when you get older. Mostly. I bet your Grampa still loves you.
StG
Yes, Grampa still loves me. He told me I was a Hero Dog on last night’s walk.
We - that is, I, with my sharp doggy eyes and not Grampa’s old fart eyes - spotted another doggy who was wandering around trailing a leash and looking upset. Grampa and I agreed he was probably lost, so I lured him over to get him to sniff my butt and say Hello and Grampa grabbed the leash. I didn’t bark or jump or do anything naughty. I was very nice to the other little dog.
Then Grampa and I took him back down into the next subdivision and found his mommy looking for him and calling for him anxiously. And they were real happy to see each other again, and Grampa said I was a Hero Dog like Lassie (who I never heard of, but it sounded like a good thing, so I wagged my tail).
Then in the middle of the night I chewed up the tail on my stuffed platypus and it didn’t agree with me and I horked it up on the rug. So Grampa had to clean it up this morning. But he said it wasn’t my fault.
So we are back to normal.
Regards,
Leet
Leet, if your grandpa figures out how to give you tiny treats like cut up cheese the size of a raisin every time you take a happy step with your Gentle Leader on, until you are so interested in earning treats you forget about what’s on your head, you are doomed to wear that thing without a care. So make sure he doesn’t read this.
– evil dog trainer who uses GL’s all the time
Leet - Yo’re no Lassie! Silly girl collie (played by a boy, of course!). You’re Rin Tin Tin! Heck, you could even be related! You should get Gramps to read you his new biography. Heck, you could even be related!
Yours in dogdom,
Pat, Jake, Maggie, Sophie, Andy and Wylie