and we got her from the humane society. she was a (briefly) pre-owned beagle puppy (abused, too) who we now call nordberg. we also call her “rocketdog” because she torches puppy energy for periods at a time.
she bounces and looks pitiful and jumps in your lap and covers your face with licks incessantly when she wants to go for a walk.
the older beagle, quincy, will come and get you, drag you across the house to bring you to the kitchen to get a cookie. quincy could possibly the cutest beagle EVER mind you and i am up to debate that fact.
we spoil the hell out of both beagles, but we feel it’s because they’er so easy to spoil and they’re so damned cute and they were abused in their previous lives, we can make up for it somehow. they get what they want, when they want it and walk all over us and we love it.
now, how spoiled are your animals? i’m talking about real things animals want and get, not so much diamond-collar-for-fluffy-spoiled, when a dog has no use for a diamond collar.
My cats get the expensive prescribed food the vet recommended for the one, which was overweight. A drain on the ol’ budget, but Tobermory is worth it, and so is Vladimir. Two litterboxes, two food and water dishes, they can sleep wherever they please. I’d say my cats are spoiled.
Oh, lord, you people are going to have a hard time topping me on this one.
I have one dog, Padraic. He’s a wonderful dog with a fantastic personality, and we think he’s a mix of Mastiff, Great Dane and American Bison (100 pounds of solid muscle). We rescued him from the animal shelter when he was about three months old.
My wife is extremely obsessive about his care. Actually, from my standpoint this all is more an issue of spoiling my wife more than the dog, since she’s the one who actually worries about this stuff. He probably couldn’t care less about most of it. This translates to a lot of work and expense for me, but I think he deserves it.
He eats sirloin steak daily, not to mention fresh liver and roasted chicken from the deli. I take him to the vet every other week for accupuncture on his bad hip. He sleeps on the bed exclusively. I have to take him for a two-hour walk every day, rain or shine, whether I’ve gotten enough sleep or not (I work graveyards). If he wants to go out, any hour of the day or night, my wife gets me out of bed to take him (she’s agoraphobic and doesn’t go outside). We have a drawer in the kitchen full of chews that is left open at all times, so he can grab something whenever he wants. He also has a toybox that would rival most five-year-old child’s.
No doubt about it - in my next life, I want to be one of my wife’s pets!
My dog sleeps in the bed with me, but only after Harborwolf gets up for the day. I also take her with me if I’m going to visit someone, going to drop someone off somewhere, or just going to make a short trip. She loves the car, and just the word is enough to make her go crazy. I thought I spoiled her, but Thalion made me feel downright neglectful!
I have gotten my cat addicted to egg nogg apparently. Now that I’m out, she screams incessantly when I open the fridge to get something for myself. I’m seriously considering digging up the recipe for the stuff and whipping up a batch just so she’ll shut the hell up.
Wow. Okay. We have a cat (little Gryffy), and one of his hobbies is chasing bugs. I suspect many cats have this hobby as well.
Especially during the summer, when a wayward fly or other small bug might get in the house, the cat loves to chase it. However, because the cat is rather short, he can’t do much about the bug if it flies up to the ceiling. Little Gryffy will sit under the bug and cry and cry until we notice.
Then, one of the humans will pick him up and hold him aloft over our head, supporting his rump. The Gryff will then stretch way up to reach the bug. Of course, some bugs are determined and fly around trying to escape. Then, the human holding the cat will run around the house, based on directions provided by the other human, such as “it’s heading toward the hall! No, it’s doubling back to the kitchen!” It looks like we’re making a bizarre sacrifice to the gods, holding up a cat and running around the house like crazy people.
I know what you mean about spoiling them especially if they are rescue animals! I think the seeds of our pathetic life of cat stewardship were planted back when he was the sole survivor of an unwanted litter of kittens left to die. After his rescue, I couldn’t imagine saying no to anything he wants.
In other cat spoilage, the little Gryff is a lap cat. He also likes this fuzzy knit afgan we keep on our couch. He likes to sit on your lap, and he likes to sit on the afgan, but his favorite is sitting on the afgan when it is on your lap. If the afgan isn’t on your lap, he’ll go back and forth until you figure it out. I’ve sat under that stupid afgan in 80 degree weather so that the cat could enjoy his seating arrangement of choice.
Every single day I go home during lunch to walk my dogs. That’s in addition to the morning, afternoon and late night walks. If I can’t do all that I’d call the pet sitter.
Even then, I thought my dog was lonely during the day. So I got another dog for her to play with. Of course now I’m equally attached to both dogs.
They both get to live in an air-conditioned apartment and sleep anywhere they like, including the couch and my bed. I think that alone is pretty good for a dog. There’s a cool tiled area right by the door which Zoe (Collie mix) likes. Simon (Rat Terrier mix?) has much less hair and prefers the bed, especially if I’m in it.
I am about to buy my dog a heated dog bed. Because I worry that he gets cold in the new house, where his room isn’t very well heated. Even though he’s a Westie, a double-coated dog. I may get him two, since now that I’ve enclosed and paved the area under the porch and laundry room for him maybe his bed down there is too cold for the winter?
Mr.stretch has taken to making home-made dog biscuits* for the girls. You know you can find anything on the internet–including hundreds of recipes for dog biscuits. Their favorite: cheese-oatmeal-peanut butter made with whole wheat flour.
All the dogs are allowed on the beds–not any other furniture, just the beds. They hang out on the bed and watch tv with us at night. Usually at least one of them sleeps with us–sometimes all three Goldens. Our mutt doesn’t like to sleep on the bed with both of us but will sleep with me. I’m special.
*We call them biscuits, but let’s be honest–they are cookies. Our dogs get fresh cookies each week.
My cat has a taste for tuna, and if we don’t give him a spoonful of it at suppertime, he’ll cry for an hour and try to get into the fridge by himself. He doesn’t get the cheap stuff, though; he only eats the nice white Albacore tuna, ever since my mom gave him a bit to taste when she was making a sandwich. Try giving him the store brand 99c-a-can stuff, and he’ll try to bury it.
Also, when he comes into my room at night while I’m sitting in my comfy computer chair and looks at me just right… I have to get up and let him sit in the chair. I’ll pull over my other, not-quite-as-comfy desk chair for myself instead. I know, it’s idiotic. But I can’t help myself!
heh, cute… this is exactly what i thought when we i opened this thread up.
as soon as i figure out how to post pictures online, i’ll giev you nordberg and quincy pictures.
to get the sympathy vote, here is the condition in which we got them.
quincy: found running down the street on a rainy night. we live right by a VERY busy road, and we find out now that he’s car-blind (he’ll walk across the steret expecting the cars to stop…assuming they exist in quincyland). anyways, his front two teeth were cracked…kicked out, actually. i brought him in the house, bathed him and now he runs the universe. additionally, he was shot by a few bbs. we know this because we got him a tune up and they took an x ray and found them still inside him. with all that being said, he is easily the most headstrong animal i’ve ever dealt with. he growls if you try to move him, pick him up, make him do what you want. it’s not a “i’m going to bite you” growl, it’s a lot more of a “i do what i want” snit fit.
nordberg: found in a shelter as a tiny puppy thing. had two large pink spots from where a chain rubbed the fur off her flesh, one on the back of her neck, the other on her chest. she lived for the first few months of her live in a (presumably) 4 foot radius. she’s SOaffectionate and seems grateful for the life change. she is so sweet and loving and has no qualms about jumping in your lap no matter what you’re doing and cover your face with a plethora (heh…plethora) of kisses. she loves to play and does so at any given opportunity.
yes, her physical scars are finally beginning to fur over, but they’re still there.
When we bought my husband’s childhood home, I converted the double garage (with a tool room) into a cat suite. They have their own sofa and recliner, and my husband’s childhood crib. They have a 12 foot section of cedar tree with steps screwed to it, secured to floor and ceiling. Carpeted shelves around three walls, on different levels. An amoire to hold their litter, food and brushes. A water fountain. Windows with deep ledges for overseeing the front yard. Curtains over the insulated garage door. The tool room is now my office, with my computer, hockey memorbilia and bookshelves. It has a door so they can’t get in when I’m not here, because Lt. Dax likes to chew on books. (Bad Cat!) It is of course heated and air conditioned.
When the installers were running the cable out here for my computer, one of them asked if it was a playroom for my children. When I told him it was for my cats, he looked at me as if I was insane. Maybe I am, but my kitties love their suite, and they love their mama.
Ok I have always thought my dog was way spoiled but you guys (especially the Cat Servants) are a hoot
My dog doesn’t get the 7-source meal like Thalion’s but my parents and I both stock mass quantities of cans of unsalted green beans because along with her 3 cups of expensive “skin formula” food each day she gets a can of green beans (to keep her weight down).
Dolly has 2 very large beds at my house and 2 at my parents’. But she also sleeps on my bed at night (and theirs when she stays there).
Dolly’s been going to school since she was 10 weeks old (she’s almost 4 now). I pay $100 for every 8 week session, just for us to have something to do together once a week.
When I bought a house, I bought it close to my parents so Dolly could visit them every day. I couldn’t move in until I got a fence installed ($2500). Then when we got here, she became very itchy. So I switched her food, had someone come out to fix my whole-house humidifier, bought anti-itch creams (and rubbed her belly every night), got her an expensive “milk” bath from PetCo (ick) and a $50 bucket of fancy fishoil treats. Princess Dolly is itch-free now
She goes in the car with me everywhere I go. If she can’t, she goes to Grammy and Grampy’s house (where she is doubly spoiled). She is allowed on all the furniture. She has more toys than most 4-year-old children.
I have been known to sit on the floor when she’s looking comfy on the couch, or sleep with no blankets on the bed if she is on top the comforter…
But hey what would my life be if I had no Dolly to cater to? Boring, that’s what it’d be
Yeah, my dogs are spoiled. I have three of them, a small Jack Russel, a medium sized mutt of indeterminate bloodline, and a large Norwegian elkhound/Retriever mix.
My mom is the manager of a pet store, so I get 50% off pet supplies. They have more toys than I did as a kid. They get lots of treats, but I try to make sure they’re healthy ones, like compressed carrot bones, and the like. If they have lots of things to chew on of their own, they’ll be less likely to get bored and curious about what the furniture tastes like.
They all are allowed to share the furniture with us, because the way I see it, this house is for my family to enjoy, and they’re part of it. All guests who come over know we have dogs, and I supply lint rollers for the hair.
I’ll admit, it gets a bit crowded sometimes in our bed. Three dogs and my hubby-- I’ve ended up sleeping on the very edge more than once. Our solution? We’re buying a bigger bed.
All three of them know that the way to get what they want is to turn on their Cute Doggy Look and snuggle up to me. I can’t resist it.
The “middle dog”, Polaris, brings her food dish to me when its empty. My trainer was aghast, and declared the dog was training me, but the way I look at it is I wouldn’t deny a toddler food if he asked for it to show my dominance-- why do so with the dogs?
Well I can’t top you, but I need to introduce you to a friend of mine back in Northern Virginia. Her cats get only the best food, and it must be fresh. They get breakfast and dinner. A fresh bowl of dry food each, and a can of chicken or tuna or some primo canned cat food each meal. Whatever isn’t eaten (and 90% usually isn’t eaten) gets thrown away. Okay, not too extreme. But she likes them to have something really fresh, home-cooked, and different from the usual stuff, each day.
Her cats like fresh cooked fish. Not the same kind of fish either, her cats would get bored and you never know what they might be in the mood for. Best to have several different things ready just in case. My friend is a vegetarian and no longer eats fish, but nevertheless goes to the store several times a week to get fresh fish. Her local Fresh Foods’ (it’s a grocery chain) fish was not fresh enough. Several times the fish smelled a bit “off.”
So my friend found a fish place up in Maine that overnights fresh-caught fish to your door.
One time I totalled up her cats’ monthly food bill and was dismayed to discover that her cats ate at least $100 more a month in food than I do.
I had to stay at their house house once for a couple of weeks.
Durring my stay there my parents had to go out of town for a couple of days.
My Mom gave me specific instructions to feed the dogs at 7:30 am sharp.
I nodded to my Mother in acknowledgement yet the whole time I was thinking: “Yeah, yeah, those dogs will get fed when I’m good-n-Oged-dammed ready”
Well, 7:30 came the next morning; and here come these damned dogs barking at the top of their lungs waking me up and trying to get me out of bed to feed them.
Not to be had by no mangy mutts, I started yelling at them (doing my best to sound intimidating): “HEY!! HUSH UP!! GO-ON, GIT. SHOO!! <waves hand franticaly>”
Instead of these dogs tucking their tail between their legs and leaving my once peacefull room; they just tilted their head sideways like dogs do, almost as if to say “You realize together we outweigh you. right?”
Sure enough. One dog jumps on the bed and begins to push me off the bed using his snout. The other dog stayed on the floor and got himself a mouthfull of my shirt and began to PULL me off the bed.
Needless to say: The dogs won, and I promptly got up at 7:35 and fed the dogs like Mom had asked me to do in the first place.
