I have an Exporter. She will chase thrown objects, pick them up, and take them further away before dropping them and coming back. Once she Exported 24 tennis balls to the other side of a river and I had to go borrow someone’s lab to get them back.
Here’s one.
I found Hazelnut emaciated on the side of the road a few months ago. I think she’s about 1.5 years old now. This dog weighs 50 lbs and eats like a horse; I swear she must eat at least 2000 calories a day. She runs, and runs, and runs (we have a small farm, so she has room.) She is solid muscle.
Every night, at midnight, right before I go to bed I feed her a big meal (her third big meal of the day). By 5 am her stomach is growling so loudly that it wakes me up, and if I don’t feed her something she starts doing that dog-puke-heaving thing, and will vomit bile. This is not how I wish to wake up in the morning.
So now I take a baked potato to bed with me every night. When the stomach growling starts, I hand her the potato, and she eats it and goes back to sleep until a reasonable hour. I hope she grows out of this.
She got lucky when you found her.
When I get up in the morning I open the back door and just leave it standing open all the time when I’m home so the cats and dogs can come and go (fenced back yard.)
Later in the morning today I went in the bathroom–didn’t have my glasses on-- and I saw something on the floor that looked like a mouse. Or maybe a leaf with the stem attached. It wasn’t moving. I got my glasses, and yes, it was a mouse. But it was a catnip mouse. I have three cats, but I don’t buy them catnip mice. So I’m guessing my huntress Tikva bagged it in the wild.
My Turkish Van, “Mookie”, was an accomplished Nerf basketball player in his athletic prime. He was a prolific ballhawk, always up and trying to strip me when I was dribbling. When I’d put up a shot he would crash the boards and soar for the rebound, bringing it down with his front paws. Then he would protect the ball from me trying to get it back from him. He had all the instincts, and not coincidentally he loves to sit and watch the ballgames with me. Unfortunately he didn’t have any means of shooting a jumpshot, which would have been really interesting. This is how he earned the nickname Rondo.
He also has a tenacious appetite for anything made of wood, enjoys kicking all the water out of the bowl, really likes to pluck the high e string on my guitar and once slowly devoured an entire sock over a period of months. He’s an odd boy but that’s why we love him. 
Is Cuthbert named for the Cuthbert who adopted Anne of Green Gables fame? I dig it.
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I can’t claim anything so literary. It was just that I had an Albert and a Bertram who were both long-haired white cats, so when I added another long-haired white cat, Cuthbert just fit!
Reminds me of another peculiarity of our dog Simone. She occasionally watces TV, although frequently ignores it completely. I watch a lot of military history as well as dog-themed shows and nature programs. Simone has been completely unfazed by bombs, shells, broadsides, screaming Stukas, the Rebel Yell, bagpipes, lions, hyenas, even dinosaur roars. But she fled in terror from the Zulu war cry in the movie of the same name. I have to wonder why. We found her wandering on the streets, but it seems unlikely she was persued by a Zulu war band.
You mean you couldn’t, at least until today.
Is the next one to be Dibert? Englebert? This sparkeles with the luminescence of 10 000 foot-lamberts.
Malthus, that tetherbal story is amazing.
I thought I had the only cat who munched on cucumber. I made a Youtube clip of it.But in doing so, I found out there are at least ten cucumber eating cats on YouTube.
Dagbert and Egbert or Edelbert, of course!
(Except my husband put the kibosh on it. Boo.)
Boo indeed. However, since a good husband is more rare than a white long haired cat, I would probably concede his point. We cannot have you going for another name change and becoming jsfeliscatus or similar
Where to start?
My border collie is obsessed with ball fetching. Now, most owners of BCs can probably say the same thing, but Scout’s ball drive borders on psychotic. She’s almost 12-years-old and can run for hours and hours after a ball. In fact, I was doing some grading today in the backyard and eventually had to come in 'cuz I couldn’t work with her dropping the ball in my lap every 30 seconds.
The dog we recently lost and our new puppy both do what we call “bitey yawns.” They yawn while sitting next to/on a lap and “accidentally” gently close the mouth on a human extremity.
My Maddy Moo, who we lost last year, was my “heart dog.” She disliked being hugged or over-petted, but wanted to be next to me 24/7. One of my pieces always had to be lightly touching one of hers.
Jack the collie is into murdering rodentia and dragging the corpses into the house. Last summer he got hold of a 'possum and created an SVU-style crime scene in the kitchen. Shudder.
In December I hauled out of bed one morning and stepped on a BIG, DEAD, FROZEN SQUIRREL in my barefeet! At first I thought it was Jack’s stuffed squirrel toy, but no . . . However, unlike the 'possum crime, I think the poor squirrel died of something and the carcass froze (or he just froze and fell out of a tree). Yummmmm, frozen squirrel!
Perhaps other canines do this ultimate gross thing: 1) Eat poop in the yard; 2) barf poop in the house; 3) eat poop-barf. Repeat as needed.
Our grey former cat, Hailey, we nicknamed “Nurse Kitty”. Whenever one of us wasn’t feeling goo (physically), she’d stay with us until we felt better. She also seemed to have a preternatural knack for knowing when Mom hadn’t taken her drugs. (In this case, she could care less if I didn’t take mine, but with Mom, she damn well knew.)
Our smaller grey cat, Toby, I swear could read clocks. He always knew when it was time for Mom to pick me up from work. “NAOW! Go get my brother NAOW!!”
We had a border collie/lab mix who got to be a hero once. My mom lives in the boonies on an almost 7-acre lot. One day when she was dog-sitting for us, she leashed up Bernie and went walking to the far back of her lot. Since it was summer, the foliage was thick and my mom became disoriented. She was thinking she cold walk towards the road sounds and take the long way back to the house, but she was worried about walking along a narrow road with no sidewalk leading a dog.
On a hunch, she unhooked Bernie’s leash and followed her… back to the house. Good girl!
My Abyssinian boy has a unique resting spot to survey his domain:
How does he get UP there without slipping right back off?
My shelter mutt is terrified of BOXES. Also cameras. If she encounters either, she hides posthaste.
I was taking pictures of the cat, and the pup was feeling jealous so just had to investigate - but as soon as i turned the camera her way she was GONE.
He’s a cat. That’s how. 
He’s very agile and quite comfortable up there as if it were designed for him.