My dog cracks me up.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Last night my husband was hosing down the patio. I was looking out the sliding glass door at him, and he “squirted” me. My dog Blaze (who was standing near me) went nuts! Barking and trying to bite the water. It was absolutely hilarious.

He’s also very cute when we play “bite the hand.” He won’t bite me at all, just likes to chase my hand with his mouth. But while he does that, and is laying on his belly, his little legs and feet smack the floor in unison. This is very hard to describe, but it’s very cute.

OK—cutesie dog story time! (Mine is an 8-year old Sheltie.)

2

One afternoon I came home to find that Tugger, my Jack Russell/Border Collie mix had carried a bunch of my dry food goods into the living room. We live in a very small rental, so the pantry is a lower cabinet in the kitchen. He had figured out how to open the cabinet door and had carried a full container of rolled oats, a 15 pound bag of potatoes, a couple of boxes of rice, and some cans of soup into the living room. He then got the bag of potatoes open and proceeded to ‘plant’ them in corners and in the couch cushions. We were finding potatos all evening.

Needless to say, we put baby-proofing latches on all of the cabinets that weekend… :smiley:

3

Hee.

I knew a Toller who loved his owner’s sprinkler system in the garden: he’d stand over the sprinkler head and use it as a waterpik. Same dog also used to sit in front of the lemon tree and wait for one to fall… he’d pick one up and then wonder why the “balls” from the “tennis ball tree” would taste so sour and weird…

:wink:

My current guys are the source of much amusement… We have one who likes to sleep on people’s heads, who raids kitchen counters and who knows how to get into every pantry, every container imaginable to man. She is the Fun Police of the household and won’t let her siblings stray too far when we’re at the park. She treats the boys like sheep. Her sense of humor is a mile wide, I swear. Loves to empty her toy box and throw toys at us until someone is willing to go play fetch with her. Her name is Zap, and she is an Aussie.

Valen is our old man (a Toller) who likes to complain that his bowl is empty. He’s perpetually hungry, you see… He’s also the guy who fetches stuff for you from the fridge and raids the meat drawer if you’re not careful. It’s a plus of being a trained service dog - you get the job done, but there’s nothing that says you can’t snack on the job.

Spanky, our Border Collie / Sheltie / Bathmat cross is a cat. Or at least he thinks he is. He sleeps on the back of the couches, in sunbeams. He’s a good snuggler. Functions very well as a rug…

Funny puppyhood story:

When Zap was about 8 months old and Valen was a grown guy (he was about 5 then)… they decided they needed to get into the food bin. I stored their food in a large “garbage” bin with a snap on lid (hail Rubbermaid!). Zap would try to get into it, but if she put her paws on one handle, it would tip. So, they somehow got together and BOTH held one side while Zap snapped off the lid. She then balanced herself on the rim and pitched head first into the food bin. She chomped away while Valen got some kibble that she was throwing over the side.

Yes, I caught them in the act. Yes, I let them do it to see how they’d solve the problem. Yes, I just about died laughing.

I didn’t have a very impressed puppy when I pulled her out of the bin and found a way to block access to the pantry…

4

I once had two very, very good dogs.

JC and Roman.

JC needed a little work when we came to us at 2 ½, but Roman was almost 10 when he got him a year later and always beautifully behaved. A real gentleman he was, the Cary Grant of greyhounds.

The second Christmas we had him, we found out that the traditions in whatever family he belonged to before us must have been different than our own, namely in that they must have believed in opening gifts on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day.

Because that night we came home after dinner to find wrapping paper spread all over the living room. While we were out, the dogs had very carefully pulled their gifts, sent by family and friends, out from under the tree and opened them all. Every single one had been some sort of food/treat, and all of it had been eaten. The wrapping paper was carefully opened, hardly torn at all, as was the plastic encasing most of the goodies. Our things (including a couple items that turned out to be food) weren’t touched at all. I’d placed all the gifts under the tree as they were received, so they’d had plenty of opportunity to do this prior to that day as well.

We were rather disappointed they chose to celebrate without us. Fortunately there was no fallout, so to speak, from gorging on what we figured to be a good 3-4 lbs. apiece in dog snacks. Not even a stray fart.

So let this be a lesson to all dogs: if you decide to be bad, do it in a good way!

5

My four dogs hang out in the back garden all day, and when I go out at about tea time to feed the sheep, the four of them come out from under the decking or in from the woods to wag tails, stretch, say hallo, all those happy dog greetings.

They’re all partial to that ‘greeting yawn’n’stretch’’ dogs do when they’re feeling really happy, you know, it’s almost head-splittingly wide and they shake their heads a little, and always end with almost human-like, singing sounds.

The other day, my dog Dirt not only performed a magnificent greeting-yawn, but such was the effort that her front feet left the ground.

Was worth a giggle, but then all four went into a greeting yawn sequence, all slightly enough off from each other, that it was like one of those Three Stooges, ‘Halloo, Halllooo, Halloooo…Hallo!’ routines.

6

We have a dog who likes to open presents, too. Our Pia is an 8-year old bulldog who came to us at age 3 as a rescue. She absolutely adores stuffed toys and carries her “babies” around all day long. So on her first Christmas with us we wrapped up some stuffed toys and showed her how to open them. She was very pleased to learn the unusual packages had things in there for her, and proceeded to unwrap the rest of her gifts all by herself. The next Christmas, we had the usual assortment of wrapped packages under the tree, and one Saturday the husband had to work and I went out for part of the afternoon. When I got home, it was like a Wrapping Paper Massacre had occured. Paper was torn and strewn around everywhere, she had unwrapped many of the gifts while we were gone. But the funniest part was that she entirely skipped over the hard boxes and hard-edged presents which did not resemble soft stuffed toys. She had unwrapped everything which could possibly be a stuffed toy to see what was for her - she unwrapped some packages of socks, underwear, and other items until she found the few things under the tree that were dog toys. I found her in our basement surrounded by a fort of brand new stuffed toys, very pleased with herself.

She also loves to “play act” pain and suffering when the mood strikes her. She had irritated the muscle in one of her legs one week and walked with a slight limp, acting very sullen and injured for several days. One afternoon the doorbell rang and we could see the UPS guy through the storm door. Pia HATES the UPS guy. She got up from her bed, ran at full speed to the door, jumping and bouncing around like a puppy. My husband witnessed the whole thing, angrily yelled “PIA!”, who then turned around with her head down, and limped all the way back to her bed. That dog can out-act Meryl Streep.

7

My Doberman is a spazzmonkey. When he was a small puppy, he was lying down on my sister’s lap, and abruptly decided to get up. He flipped up two feet, and landed -back first- on the floor. He sprang up and said “I meant to do that!”.

My Rottweiler insists that she needs food constantly. In fact, she is so desperate that she pulls up the carpet with her teeth to try to scrape little morsels of dried stuff from the fibers. This is loud and noisy at the same time.

8

I buy a lot of Auggie’s treats in bulk off of the internet. He loves chew hooves, and I got a box of 40 or 50 of them a few months ago. We keep his treats in a utility closet, which he knows as the “treat closet”. If I say “Auggie, treat closet?” he’ll run to the closet and wait for me to get him a treat.

 One day, I didn't shut the door very well, and when I got home from work, there were hooves all over the house.  It looked like a herd of cattle exploded.
9

My dog does loads of things that crack me up.

She’ll sit and watch the ceiling fan (while it’s on), head going around in circles, until she gets dizzy and tips over. Then she’ll shake her head walk around for 5 minutes and then she’s right back at it again.

When I clean, she HATES the vaccum cleaner. So she chases it while I push it back and forth, biting at it. Several times i’ve literally gotten into a tug of war with her, with the vaccum a good foot off the floor, trying to get it out of her mouth. (this is also why she stays INDOOR when I do outside work…she would try the same with the lawn mower or weed eater if she could.)

She hated the mailman with a passion. At my old house I used to have a mail slot next to the front door. She would raise such a fit when the mailman came he finally got to the point where he would only put the mail in the slot about an inch…JUST enough for her to get ahold of it and drag it in through the slot.

Probably the one thing that cracks me up the most about this dog, she doesn’t do anymore since I’ve moved. When I was married, and we first got her as a puppy, we ‘penned’ her up downstairs, so that she wouldn’t destroy anything while we were out of the house. It was nothing major, just a old baby fence from when the little tyke was a baby, and we would put it at the base of the stairs. So she would have full run of the basement bedroom and living room.

Well, fast forward about a year and a half, and me and the ex pull up in our car, and behold, there’s Belle’s head poking through the drapes, watching out the living room picture window upstairs. She watches us get out of the car, and start coming up the steps to the front door, and then dissapears from the front window. As i’m sticking my keys in the door, I hear the clumsy beast rumble through the foyer and down the stairs. As we open the door, she’s downstairs in the basement on the other side of the baby fence, just sitting like a good little angel, wagging her tail.

We took down the baby gate that day and never used it since, but for the next 5 years that scene would play itself out EVERYDAY when I got home, and everytime she would have this look of “Look! I’m such a GOOD DOG! I stayed downstairs ALL DAY!”

I could write a book on all the other strange/stupid things she does, but the hamsters would hate me. I swear the dog has ADD/ADHD.

10

Our dog Donner has a play pool that we fill up with water during the summer for him to have something to do while outside during the day. So what Donner does when he gets boerd is he will drag the pool over to one side of our yard, and get to the other side of the yard. Then he will sprit over to the pool and do a 5 foot leap into this foot deep kiddie pool. Hilarious to watch. He will also lay in the pool, walk around, coax the other dogs in the pool…Funniest dog we have had.

11

Mom’s dog Smidget was a scream.

My first year in college I came home and discovered that the sibs now ordered Dominoes on Fridays for dinner. :smiley:
Okay, week 1–the pizza is delivered and my 14yo brother meets the delivery at the door and carrys the pizza to the kitchen, serves himself a piece and starts walking to his seat at the table with the mini schauzer right under the plate. Now apparently Lil’Bro has hit that point where he has become clumbsy :smack: because that first piece of pizza falls and zap! Smidget is on it like white on rice, “munch, growl, yum, munch”. No problem-- there like eight pieces. :rolleyes:
Now comes Week 2–I met the delivery man, paid and carried the pizza to the kitchen table and we sit down and distribute the pizza while sitting down already. :cool: That way, Lil’ Bro actually gets to eat his first slice of 'za instead of dropping it and forfeiting it to the dog. College education–good for something. :cool: However, Smidget thinks :mad: , “That is MY piece of pizza he is eating!” and growls at him as he takes his first bite. I reprimanded the dog and he looked at me and GROWLED as if to say, “I always get the first piece!” Apparently, the dog had been tripping my brother and taking that first piece for as long as they had been calling out for pizza. And now I came along and spoiled it for him. :wink:

Another story. Second year of college I had a car. I learned on manual and have stayed with it. However, the only cars available for learning to drive at home that year were automatics. So Lil’ Bro had started learning to drive with automatics but wanted some experience with manual b/c Dad kept saying that it is important to know how at least. So I come home for a break and Lil’ Bro begs to drive my little Renaunlt 4-speed 4-banger. I say alright and somehow the dog, my mom, my baby sister, my brother & I get in the car. And we take a hurky jerky trip around the neighborhood. Teachng someone to drive is NERVE RACKING! :eek: Let us just state that he really needed to work on shifting, starting, stopping, in fact, the entire experience left me trembling.
We get back to the house and pile out of the car and into the house.

You gotta understand the Smidget knew treats/Milkbones were presented when he was a GOOD DOG. :smiley: Like if he did not greet the repairman with a snoot in the croach, or if he sat quietly while a guest talked, when the “company” left he would race to the cabinet where the MB were and sit and whine, yip, or bark to get your attention then try to appear angelic to get a MB.

And that is what he did on this occasion. HE figgered that since he had survived that “Learning Experince” w/o making a fuss or a nasty comment on Lil’ Bro’s driving skills or lack thereof he (the dog) deserved a MB. :smiley: Smidget was a character!