Let's talk about our Doggies!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

It’s mundane and pointless to most people, but to me, MY DOGGIE IS THE BEST ANIMAL ON THE WHOLE PLANET. :slight_smile:

My husband gave me Cinny (short for Cinnamon) on February 22, just a week before my birthday. She was adopted from a shelter and we figured she was only about four weeks old. She’s a boxer mix, mostly boxer, but a different sort of snout. This is what Cinny looked like at first:http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b260/Andygirl1974/Doggie024.jpg

In all likelihood, she was probably the cutest puppy ever to have lived. This is pretty much a fact. We got all of her shots and got her tail docked, which was a much labored decision. But she did very well with that and recovered in no time. At first she didn’t want to be housebroken, which had me and hubby frustrated for a good while because neither of us has ever had a dog before and it was all new territory. But we just kept trying and trying, and all the while she just kept getting cuter:


Suddenly she started doing all the right things, pooping outside almost all of the time (and peeing too!) and becoming a little shadow behind me everywhere I walked. She started going on car rides and having fun with that, and playing fetch for as long as I will keep throwing. She loves running around and hanging by her doghouse, where she spends part of her day. And just last week we had her spayed. She has pretty much become a dream dog and does the cutest things. The only problem I am still having is that she has a tendency to want to put her teeth on us all the time, not biting, but just sort of nipping. I have been told this is normal for a puppy, and she’s starting to lay off of it a bit.

So this is Cinny as of yesterday:

I have no idea how big she is going to end up, she’s about 25 pounds right now and seems to grow every day. We wuv her so much I can’t even stand it. She is the best thing to happen to this family (and to me especially), for a long time. I love her!!!

Hopefully this thread isn’t too cheesy, and for those who feel similarly about your doggies, please tell me about them and post pics if you have them. Also, about how often do you bathe your dogs? I was giving Cinny a bath every week, but she is less stinky now that she’s getting older. Should I just wait until she gets dirty or give her one whether she needs it or not?

2

Oh, and how do you break a dog of trying to eat poo out of the catbox? That’s her ickiest habit so far.

3

She’s dead cute Indy!

Nipping needs to be stopped now: she’s gonna be a big 'un by the looks of her feet :eek: . “Bah” is a fairly similar sound that the mother makes when puppies are biting too hard so if she gets you (on purpose) just bark it at her and pull your limb away. Or a bop on the nose if she doesn’t get that.

And for as long as dogs and cats will live alongside, dogs will eat cat poo. You have to keep her separate from it.

Squeee

Ahem.

Alvin is my eight year old male rottweiler. He’s about 70kg (he’s a tad overweight at the moment) and as a result can be very intimidating. But he’s a gentlemen.

He was kind of antisocial for the first three months we had him; he was so happy to get away from his siblings (eldest) and just sleep. He slept under our couch the entire time. He looked like a little bear cub. He was always big on attitude. You looked at him sideways and he’d carry on like you’d insulted his mother, barking and grumbling (not growling). He’s a talker and people would always ask why he was growling. He’s a total love sponge and adores kids (but he can’t finish a whole one).

He also has his own cat.

He’s slowed down a lot in the last few months, he lives a geriatric lifestyle with my grandparents, getting fed and walked all the time and they adore him. He’s originally my dad’s dog and when my dad visits, he’s just in heaven. When Dad leaves, he won’t get off his bed (Cot mattress. Best bed ever).

4

All three of our dogs love to sift the cats’ litterboxes for crunchy treats. This may explain why dog breath smells the way it does. But, fecal breath and all, these three are GOODDOGGIES, oh yes dey are.

5

I’m seriously not shitting on this thread.

I got Jezzie’s ashes back today. She is on the armoire next to critic. Her collar is around her urn.

She was 16 years old. Considering when I found her she diagnosed as probably having less than 2 days to live, I think she was very lucky. For 15 years of her life, she was my shadow. While other people saw her as an ugly, shy mutt, I saw her as a beautiful, loyal, smart cur. She learned any trick (except for retrieving, blame it on the golden she was raised with) quickly. She was well mannered, gentle, patient and deeply neurotic. She loved butt scratches and chin rubs and dinner. But mostly, she loved me. I was her life. No one else could let her outside, she wouldn’t eat if I wasn’t home, I was her human damnit! 15 years have a lot of good stories to tell, about her going to college, playing “tree the cat”, the first and last time she ever went into heat, getting in my bed when I was gone and leaving one tennis shoe as evidence, the groan when you scratched her just right, the time the door was left open to the house and she stayed home, but the greyhound wandered a few miles away, puppy kisses, “where’s the kitty?”, the time she adopted a cat, on and on. There will never be another one quite like her, I was extraordinarily lucky.

So that is the tail of the doggie that was supposed to die at least 5 times in 16 years, but only did once. PUPPY KISSES!!!

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Maggie is my standard poodle. My poodly girl. She’s bouncy and excited and adores me. I never wanted a poodle. When a co-worker was set on getting a puppy (and I knew it wasn’t going to work out - she just didn’t have the right temperment and she was afraid of dogs) I tried to talk her into a doberman, since I love dobes. Nope, she had to have a standard poodle. I went with her to the breeder’s to pick up the puppy. I bonded immediately - she was scared immediately. We took the dog back to work with us, and at 3 mos she laid sweet and quiet in the cubicle until it was time to leave. I loaned my coworker a crate, gave her dog dishes and toys and left them. The next morning she called me and said the dog had to go - the pup was following her everywhere. There aren’t enough :rolleyes: in the world. She took the pup back to the breeder, who refused to sell it to our CFO when he called to buy her. She said the dog was going to stay in her kennel and be a brood bitch, since two homes didn’t work out. I called a week later and she said “what took you so long?” She knew the dog belonged with me.

Grace is my current doberman. I’ve had a doberman for the last 20 years or so. Two years ago I saw her walking on the road by my farm. I know all the dogs around my place, andshe was new. I asked a neighbor about her and he said he saw her be dumped by someone. I took her home and she settled into a dog bed like she would never leave. A week later Simon, my other dobe, died of heart failure at the age of 14. That’s why she’s Grace - someone wanted to make sure I wasn’t dobie-less. I lost her for 8 days once - I think someone tried to steal her. She ended up with a doberman breed 45 miles away, who tracked me through her tags.

Wolf was the barn dog at the place where I used to board my horse. I left there because th manager had gotten into drugs and wasn’t caring for the horses like he should’ve been. I bought my farmhouse and 13 acres and left for greener pastures. One day I got a call from one of the other boarders - apparently the manager took off with a couple months of board he hadn’t given the farm owner. He left behind 6 horses and the dog. The horses all found homes easily, of course, but no one wanted a middle-aged alaskan malamute. I agreed to take him, but I said he wouldn’t be a pet - he’d just be a guest for life. That means no extraordinary vet expenses, just food, water, shelter and heartworm protection. Of course that didn’t last for long. He was standoffish at first. When the weather was bad I’d have to drag him by the collar to get him to go inside. He seemed to expect to be hit if he came indoors. Now he comes in and settles on a dog bed and is happy.

Paddy is an English setter I got from the dog pound. At our local pound, strays have about a 10% chance of being adopted. Otherwise it’s euthanasia When they picked him up, he was covered in ticks. He was probably a hunting dog who got lost in the field or was dumped for not being a good enough hunter. I don’t think he’d ever been in a house, either. But it didn’t take him long to settle in, and now he doesn’t want to let me out of his sight. At night when I’m sitting at my computer hi head is either in my lap or on my foot.

StG

7

I have three dogs.

Blaze is my sweet boy. He’s a Sheltie, and almost 11 years old. I got him for my birthday when he was 7 weeks old. He was an “only” dog for the first ten years, and is not very socialized to other dogs. But one day…

I was at the park by the duck pond. It was a coolish day, and it was a weekday, and I was all alone. Except for this black dog I could see across the pond, splashing and chasing ducks and having a wonderful time. She made her way around the pond and came bounding up to me. Startled me for a minute, but she jumped on me and wagged her tail - so full of joy! No collar, kinda skinny, and no one around. I started thinking… :wink: My husband had left his own black lab back in Florida when he moved here (before we met.) He had heard recently that Doggie had died of old age, and was sad. He missed her. Blaze was old and not very active. Here was a new Labrador - maybe I should bring her home? I sat in my car to call him, but he didn’t answer his cell phone. I had an appointment in an hour! What to do, what to do? [http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b109/rmix/my%20dogs/lucy/th_2330edit.jpg]Lucy](Photo Storage) made the decision for me. She jumped in my car, over my lap - wet and muddy! It was a sign!

I took her home, but had to see how the two dogs interacted. I had about 30 minutes to observe. I took her into the back yard, and brought out Blaze. They were fine! Blaze didn’t want to play, but he definitely wanted to check her out. I noticed that she had a scar on her belly - she was probably spayed. Point in her favor! I fed her and she wolfed it down, then I left a big bowl of water, brought Blaze in, and left her in the back yard. I finally got hold of hubby, and he agreed to keep her, after we looked for her owners (whick we had no luck finding.) I took her to the vet, and had her scanned for a chip. No chip! She was ours. That was a year ago. She’s 3 years old now (estimated.)

Our latest acquisition is Ernie. We first noticed him on walks around the neighborhood. He’s a little poodle mix, and was always running loose. Lucy loved him! They would play and run. I started letting him in the house, and they would wrestle and play tug-o-war and run around like crazy dogs! Then I would put him out a couple of hours later. One evening i put him out and he wouldn’t quit barking. By this time, I had figured out where his house was, so I went down there and tried to tell them where he had been, but the mom didn’t speak English very well. After that, they started chaining him up in the (open) garage! Poor thing. I went in the garage two times (trespassing?:eek:) and checked on him. No water or food, poop everywhere that he had stepped in…bad conditions. One day they were having a garage sale, and my husband saw the puppy chained up. He came home and said let’s go offer to buy him. So we did, and they said yes! They have three small children and both work - no time for a dog.

So he’s been to the vet, and is in good health except for a yeast infection in his ears, and poor baby goes to the vet tonight to get neutered tomorrow.

I have three dogs! :slight_smile: :slight_smile: :slight_smile:

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This is Billy. He annoys the crap out of me, unfortunately. But, my wife and daughter love him, so I tolerate him.

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Awww, such cute babies! Here are my two.

Ladybug (Bug, Boo, Grandma) is the lab mix (chow, I think is the other part). She’s 11+ years old and that’s why she’s Grandma. The arthritis is starting to slow her down, but she’s still just as cute and sweet as ever, and just loves a good back scratch. She was Himself’s father’s dog and we adopted her when he died.

Jasmine (Jazz, Jasminium Simplicipuppius, Doofus) is the black-mouth curr mix. I have no idea what she’s mixed with. Hell, she could even be pure-bred for all I know, as she looks very much like a curr. She was found as a puppy, dumped in the parking lot at the prison my husband was working at. She’s very sweet, but is very shy of people and anything shaped like a stick. :rolleyes: :mad: It took her a while to even get over her fear of me.

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My Boy Joey

He’s the light of my life.

'nuff said! :smiley:

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Gypsy here here here and here saying goodbye, a Norwegian Elkhound (named after the bot on MST3K). We got her right after our honeymoon in Jan '93. She’d sit beside the bed and stare at me until I woke up, then lick my nose and tell me she wanted out. Vocal critter, that dog. And chewed, not usually on our stuff (not like the Eskimo that ate a $300 pair of boots) but she once chewed down a tree. We got her one of those giant 6 foot long rawhide bones, she had it disassembled in one night.
Developed dysplacia after a few years, I carried her up and down the stairs for years (we live in a tri-level), finally it got to the point that it was obviously hurting her, the pills weren’t helping and the vet wasn’t optimistic about surgery, so we had her put down in '01.
I still have her collar in my car.

Then there’s Kiara the American Eskimo that ate my boots. Does this “marwaarraraawararara” singing thing when she sees us through the screen door. Dorky little fuzzball, as fiercely protective as most of her breed and absolutely loves kids - adults have no chance of getting past her un-barked at, and only a 50/50 chance of making friends with her. She will NOT play with younger kids (well, fetch and stuff) but anything that could possibly hurt a little one (even tug of war) is right out. Even playing rough with me she won’t use her teeth.

Sierra was a very young rescue, just a puppy when we got her and terrified of loud noises, fast moving objects, etc. Pretty obvious that she was abused, she doesn’t play except with Kiara (who doesn’t give her a choice), Sierra would be perfectly content to sit at my feet getting her ears scratched for eternity. I am totally her person - doesn’t particularly care who comes and goes as long as I’m near. Kind of weird because she was badkittypriestess’s dog originally, but somehow she attached herself to me. She’s getting old now and having some trouble on the hardwood floors, but unlike Gypsy she won’t wait for someone to come help her. If I’m at the front door, she’s at the front door.

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This is Sienna. This morning, I got out of bed to use the bathroom, and upon returning, I find that she has stolen my spot in bed. Well, half my spot. I get in bed, try to worm her over to Acid Lamp’s side, and use my 24 inches of space to lay on my back. Of course, she wiggles up the bed and nuzzles my armpit for an hour or so until she decides that it’s time to wake up. Very sweet, but she can definitely be a sneaky bitch when she wants to.

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Daisy the Wonder Beagle is now 12, getting white around the muzzle, and after all these years has apparently fallen into the Old Person’s “What the hell, it won’t matter in a hundred years” mindset, and has decided to use the People’s Bathroom upstairs instead of asking to go outside. I have no idea why it’s easier for her to climb a flight of stairs and pee than it is to come and scratch at the door in the dining room right next to where I’m sitting, but then again, “what the hell, it won’t matter in a hundred years”.

She gets a bath when the smell draws itself forcibly to my attention. Which is usually in the summer.

But we did finally figure out the Flea Solution: it’s called Sentinel, and is worth the many-many pennies that each apparently solid-gold little tablet costs. No more flea soap, flea powder, flea collars, flea spray. It’s heaven. This is the first year we’ve used it, and the acid test will come at the end of August, when normally every year we can look down at our own chests and see fleas on us, it’s that bad. Our next-door neighbor, with whom we share a back yard chain link fence, has an aging, rheumy Chihuahua that is long-standing flea vector–until Sassy passes, we will never be completely flea-less.

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I love this thread. Way better than those cat threads. I love all your dogs, too, and you are not doing much to allay my sneaking suspicion that I will end up with more than one rescue dog one day. Hopefully it won’t be too soon, but I’m a total softie and the right pooch at the right time with the right story will probably convince me to take on another canine companion, thus adding an extra layer of complexity to my life that I don’t need. Oh well. I love dogs, so I’ll live.

I rescued Jimbo in October last year. He is a “pit bull mix” - parentage undetermined, but I reckon he’s mostly red nose pit bull with some French mastiff thrown in (to explain his absurdly massive head and chest).

(Every time I talk about my dog the discussion gets hijacked into a pit bull argument. I’m happy to get involved but please don’t hijack this thread into that; if there is interest I can start an “ask the unrepentant pit bull owner” thread. I beseech everyone to remember that he’s a dog, just like any other. Pit bulls are “restricted” in this jurisdiction which means a few things. For one thing all “pit bull type dogs” have to wear a muzzle in public. For another thing, every time I talk about my dog I have to explain the stupid pit bull law (and every time I show that picture, someone asks about the muzzle), and reassure them that my dog is really very nice.)

The worst thing about the pit bull law is that most shelters don’t adopt them out any more, they get put down as soon as they turn up in the shelter. So there is something of a pit bull underground railroad, where alert shelter staff pick out the ones that are absolutely too nice to be put down just because of their breed, and adopt them into loving homes like mine. So that’s how I got Jimbo.

He has never shown a shred of aggression towards human or animal (even if you are sticking your finger in his eye while he is eating his dinner), he doesn’t bark at passers-by, and nothing pleases him more than a good snuggle. He loves everyone, fears nothing, and he has even come to an understanding with the vacuum cleaner (after some tense moments in the beginning). He gets along really well with little dogs, which is really something to see considering they’re usually smaller than his head. He’s been attacked twice by off-leash dogs, but those incidents upset me a lot more than they upset him!

A few months ago he had a big growth on his front leg that we had to have removed. He was quite a trooper and even put up with being the buttof everyone’s jokes. (The lampshade didn’t last long after that picture was taken. But he healed very well in the end.)

This past weekend I took him up camping on a 100 acre property with about 50 people around. I let him off the leash for a while, it was the first chance he’s had since I’ve owned him to run free and he loved every second of it. He charmed the pants off everybody, dogs, sheep, kids and adults alike. I’m so proud of him!

15

Doggies! Squee!

I have no dogs yet, but I plan to work on that when I finally move into a house this summer.

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My doggie is currently sick. :frowning: But we have a vet appointment scheduled and we’re keeping her on a limited diet…

She’s a Westie (West Highland white terrier), tiny and adorable, she barks at everything and chases snowballs and tries to eat the garden hose and really hates when we open the blinds or the ironing board, and she’ll be 7 this year. I’ll try to find pictures if I can.

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We’ve only one current hound - Pumpkin. She’s very, very sweet but clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed. :stuck_out_tongue:

We lost our beautiful Idol to bone cancer at the end of March. He was not yet 10, and it all seemed so unfair to lose him so young. I miss him very much.

Also waiting for us on the other side are JC, who was our very first hound; Roman, who was quite possibly the best dog evar; and Rob Roy, who proved that just because you are old doesn’t mean you have to act like it. :slight_smile:

We’ll be getting another hound in a couple of months. His name is Tough - can hardly wait to get some better pics of him.

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Well, I would talk about our doggie, but she’s nearly a cat. She’s a Shih Tzu called Jewels (she came with the name), and she’s two years old. We got her from a rescue after she’d been neglected or abused or og-knows-what. She wasn’t potty trained, although the rescue told us she was. She’s housebroken now, though. She is really the baby’s doggie, always outside his door if he’s napping, underfoot when he’s playing. We keep her puppy cut, but the only pictures I have are before we started trimming her down.

Sleepy Jewels
Bath time

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Here is Daisy, a Basset Hound puppy. She’s not technically my dog (rather, my sister’s) but we’re all moving in together in about a week. She is quite adorable, if a little on the oblivious side. I’m looking forward to living with a pet again, particularly such a cutie!

20

“Who’s the best doggy? SASCHA!!! Yay! She’s got her baby!! Victory laps!!!”

This is what I say every day when I get home. Sascha always greets us at the door, with something held in her mouth to express her joy, typically her “baby” which is currently a stuffed squeaky hedgehog toy. She then celebrates our homecoming by doing laps: through the kitchen, into the livingroom, around the couch to the front door, repeat.

She is 10 years old and has been the best dog ever. I’ve had people on the street offer to buy her off of me for their kids. She can close the door, speak, shake, dig, and lie down on command. She has a huge vocabulary - we practically have to speak in code when discussing any sort of walk, trip, etc. She trusts me completely and will let me do things she doesn’t like because she knows it will make her better. I could go on and on about what a great dog she is.

But none of that is as important as the fact that she gives me boundless, unconditional, joyful love, no matter what. She is the first creature on this earth to ever give me that.