My Dog: She's Not Real Smart

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Since we got our new cat, Zoe, we had to get a new toy (or two). One of them is a laser pointer. Lucy very much loves the laser pointer. Or hates it, depending how you look at it. Since she’s a Jack Russell Terrier (At least she was a Jack Russell Terrier when we got her. Since then the Jack Russell people decided that the squatty-legged Jacks aren’t actually Jacks after all, but Parson Russell Terriers. So my dog’s breed changed on us. Weird, huh?) she figures if something moves, she should chase it. If it stops, she should bite it. This makes the little red dot a fantastic toy. It moves, it stops and (being a beam of light) it is bite-proof.

Lucy chases the red dot across the floor and tries to climb the walls when the dot zips up to the ceiling. If the dot, say, runs up the Little Woman’s leg and stops on her butt, Lucy will sorta, but not really, bite the dot. So, if this were to ever happen, Lucy sorta jumps up and bumps the Little Woman’s butt with her muzzle. (Lucy is shorter than butt-high on even the Little Woman. Lucy is way-small for a dog.)

The cat just stalks the dot a little and swats at it. She’s not as keyed up as Lucy about the whole thing. (But then, how could she be?) If the dot runs across the floor and then up the Little Woman’s leg and stops at the back of her knee, Zoe will just swat at the back of the Little Woman’s knee with her paw. This isn’t as funny.

Lucy just chases the dot wherever it goes. If the dot were to run across the kitchen floor and then dive into the water dish, Lucy will stick her face in the water dish to try to bite the dot. She’ll stay down there, snapping at the light, blowing bubbles out her nose and growling until she runs out of air. So far she’s always come up for air before she passes out in her water dish and drowns.

Because if she stayed under and drowned, the game wouldn’t be so much fun.
-Rue.

2

Forget baseball. The Great American Pasttime ought to be messing with the dog and the laser pointer. Mrs. Jockey’s dog, a Lhasa, is psycho, like a Terrier, but without the muscles. Moxie, (or as we call her, the wee beast) has the same reaction to the laser, she’ll chase it with reckless abandon, and follow it, biting as she goes. It’s especially funny to let it go under the closet door. Good thing she has a flat face. The amusing part is though, that she’ll wait for it to come back out again. for hours if we let her.

Ah, good times.

3

So what other “toys” did you get to amuse yourself while confounding the dog Rue. See, I pay attention to the details in the MMP, so it’s important to know what else you have to annoy Lucy with. Cats don’t care about much other than catnip from what I can tell. I have these friends who have two cats. These cats couldn’t care less about any toys they may have, preferring to do stuff like leap up in people’s laps and scratch furniture. All the usual cat stuff. However, give em a catnip toy and they go all nuts about it. Much like me with cold beer and cookies. Course we all know I go wild over cockies too, but that gets into the way TMIy stuff people don’t wanna know. Also, it’s a good way to remind vunderbob of that Freudian slip/typo he made a couple weeks ago. :smiley:

Speaking of vunderbob ever since he put that link to “Wally The Gator” in a post last week, I’ve had the chorus running around my head. I’ve even sung it outloud a few times. A certain burly gentleman looked at me real strange when he heard me singing it, whilst visiting Saturday evening. BTW Saturday evening was fun. So anyways I keep hearing inside my head and sometimes outloud:

“And Wally the Gator went Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
Wally the Gator went Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!
Spending all his time, by ending children’s lives.
Down in the bottom of the Swamp! Swamp! Swamp!”

When it gets outloud, I feel compelled to sorta shout out the “Chomp! Chomp! Chomp!” and the “Swamp! Swamp! Swamp!” That’s why I got the strange look. Then he asked if I got that from that weird message board I keep talking about. So, of course I said yes. Then I showed him last week’s MMP. He thought it was a riot, specially my post about planning a romantic evening with a certain burly gentleman. He said to tell y’all that I left plenty of room for dessert that night and even had seconds on dessert even though I also had appetizers. :wink: This one just might end up a keeper.

I went to a church party last night. Good bbq and cold beer. We Episcopalians know how to party. It was at the home of tow church members. I could put my house inside their house about 2 and a half times. BIIIIIIIIIIG House!

I don’t have a laser pointer or a dog or a cat. I do have a rabbit. He’s not really a pet rabbit, he just chose to live in my back yard and eat grass. I think he has a rabbit house underneath one of the storage buildings cause I see him coming out from under there a lot. He’s brown and cute and furry. So, it’s kinda like having a pet but I don’t have to actually take care of him cause he’s self-sufficient. Sounds like a good kind of pet to have, dontcha think?

-swampbear (who likes his critters and gentlemen furry)

4

When little Pandora was just a pup we did the same thing to her. She’d just chase it around the house like she’d never seen anything so cool in her short life. Then the boy discovered that she’d follow it though the glass door to the patio, or try to anyway.

We’re pretty sure that’s the way Pandora is the way she is.

5

Oooh, pet stories!

Let’s see.
My cat Nicky puts hair ties (the rubber band thingies) in the food bowls. I don’t know why. He’s not real bright. He also loves the laser pointer. Great toy, isn’t it? He chases it around and makes that chittery noise in his throat. It’s some sort of attack thing. He’s getting ready to “kill” the scary red dot.
Nicky likes to lay flat on his back like a dog. He lays spread-eagle, all four legs splayed out, with his head back, and looks just ridiculous.

My dog Molly (fearless protector of the baby bunnies in the back yard) has put her big fleecy football in the water bowl, and then come dumped it in my lap. Yuck. As if I want to play with a big soggy football. “Oh, but it squeaks!” you think. Sorry, no.
She also chews the fuzz off tennis balls. I don’t know why. She’s also not real bright. She also disembowels stuffed animals. It’s kind of funny to watch. She rips a hole in it, then proceeds to pull out the stuffing, carefully piling it up in a neat little pile. Then she carries around the limp, empty carcass. She got a new supply of stuffed animals when my kids went to the State Fair a few weeks ago. Her favorite is a baby blue sparkly unicorn.

In other news, my son is home sick today. He and my husband went to the football game yesterday and watched the Ravens beat the Steelers to a pulp and he caught a cold. Poor lil’ guy.

6

Pets… what a great subject for the MMP.
Saturday my mom and dad decided it was time to put their dog to sleep. He has been having a lot of health problems as any 20 year old dog would. They are going to the vet today to have it done.

7

Welby’s back!

Alas, my 11 y.o Boxer is too old and arthritic to chase laser pointers. Her idea of a good time is sitting next to me so I can scratch her butt.

Cats, however, were put on the earth by God Himself to be messed with. We have two cats, Booger the gray tabbie, and Cassie (who I call Audrey) the 20 lb calico Maine Coon. Audrey will leap 5 feet straight into the air to catch flies, and a game of laser tag will wear her out for a week.

I started calling her Audrey when she was a kitten because she would always find whatever human was in the kitchen, and say “FEED ME!!!”.

Did I ever mention that I hate cats? I have fantasies of feeding both of them to Rippy the Gator. CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP

Two stories for the MMP.

Friday, my boss stopped me in the hall, and said he needed to see me. Oh shit, what did I do? I walk in to his office, and he has a very strange smile on his face, and he hands me an elegant blue folder, and inside is a 10 year service pin and a a certificate. The strange look on his face is because I haven’t been here a year yet…

But I did have 9 years and change of prior civil service time when I started… :cool:

I also got to be a no effort hero again this weekend. I went to Virginia Beach to the train show (flea market for model railroaders) to work the table for my club. I got a wandering break, and went off in search of stuff for my shopping list. At the back of the exhibit hall, I came across an absolutely terrified 3 or 4 year old boy who was yelling for his daddy (sidebar: he had enough red hair that he could have been a Weasley from Harry Potter… cute kid). I tried to get him to follow me to the PA desk so his family could be paged, but he would not go. I stood there with him, calmed him down a bit, and sent a mom to the desk for help. She came back with a couple other people, including a cop in plain clothes. He started yelling again when they took him, because he said he was going to get in trouble for going with strangers, but he was reunited with Dad within 5 minutes of the page. I told Dad about the not going with strangers part, which made him real proud.

That made up for not finding the railroad decals I wanted.

8

And by Wally The Gator, I of course mean Rippy The Gator. :smack: Somehow Wally and Rippy have become one in my brain.

misstee :frowning: I’ve had to do that. It’s the best thing but it’s still so sad.

vunderbob Heehee! A “Little Shop Of Horrors” reference. Now I’m gonna have to watch that this week. Lucky for you I have my own copy or I’d be thinking mean things about ya while at the movie place.

9

Well, I seem to recall that I called him Chompy the Gator, because that chorus kept playing in my head…
:smack:

10

rue, you made my Monday morning! I’ll be chucklin’ every time I picture Lucy blowin’ bubbles in her water dish. Dim dogs…ya gotta love em!

swampy, sounds like somebody might be in loooovvee! :wink:

Who’s welby???

vunderbob, YOU the MAN!!!

We had us a really sweeeeeeeet weekend here. We got us a nice little high that gave us some loverly sunny weather in the 80s and kept ol Jeanne doing donuts out there in the 'lantic. Good!

I left home Sat morning to get some hairs cut afore goin’ to the market but alla a sudden like the ol Grand Cherokee zipped right to my favorite clothes store where I tole myself I was just gonna get me some new jeans. See, alla my treadmill walkin has made alla my ol jeans too BIG! :slight_smile: So, anyhoo, I tried on like ten pairs an found two I liked so I said okay, I need two pair. And then I HAD to have some shirts to go wif em. And then I HAD to have some new slacks sos I could wear the shirts to work afore casual Friday. So I tried on another ten pairs and found two I liked. So by then I seriously blew my *Bodily Improvements Budget * an now the hairs get a reprieve from the choppin block till next payday. That’s okay with Mr. Anachi cause he thinks I should still wear my hairs like some leftover from the 80s.

So I’m wearin a brand new outfit today which makes havin to do “billing” a tad less of a chore. That’s all I got for now.

Tupug – a serious clothes junkie

11

I don’t know, but it would be best if we kept his type away from the MMP.

12

Nice of welby to check in once a month or so and let us know he isn’t dead, isn’t it? Seriously, buddy, would it be too hard to sign on once a week for like 5 minutes just to find the MMP and type “still not dead” or something? Sheesh. Other peoples’ children.

I don’t have anything else to say because I don’t have any pets. I do have a lot of work to do here, so I’m not really online right now either. Nope. Nuh-uh.

13

See, I have a serious problem with this. I know wimmen and clothes shoppin’. A serious clothes junkie would have bought new shoes to go with each outfit. :smiley:

Speaking of new duds. I bought a bunch of summer shirts Thursday evening. I didn’t get to say that last Friday cause we didn’t have no Dope. :mad: Some of em will get to debut when I go on my cruise in October. I also bought a new pair of boaters or dockers or deck shoes or whatever ya call those things.

Puggy I am in serious like right now. I ain’t quite to the point where my inner teenaged girl wants to shriek and giggle whenever I think about a certain burly gentleman. 'Tis nice to be the object of someone’s affections though. :smiley:

14

We have a laser pointer ad two very stupid cats. Hours of fun. If you shine it on the ceiling, Aerin will jump for it, and Bailey will make little heartrending sad sounds, “I want the red dot! It’s so far away!”. I think we can get them running at about 40 mph up and down the hall. The speed’s really impressive considering how short our hall is.

I baked 8 loaves of bread yesterday, made two big dishes of scalloped potatoes and ham, and sewed a couch cover. Today I get to clean. Maybe I’ll make brownies or cookies or something, and make Mr. Lissar clean. Yep.

15

Oh yeah, laser pointers. Monday loves laser pointers. Monday is my dog. Well, Monday is also a day. Today, in fact. I thought I was being funny when I named my dog Monday, but it just confuses everyone else. If I stand outside calling, “Monday! Come, Monday!” (Chew on that, you Jimmy Buffett fans), people just look at me like I’m daft. “It’s Saturday, you silly bint,” they tell me, “Monday will coming along in two days anyway - you don’t have to call it.” Nobody gets that Monday is also my dog. A lot of times, I just refer to him as My Dog, or My Monday. Saves everyone a lot of trouble. Anyway, Monday (my dog, NOT the day) loves laser pointers. Picture Rue’s Lucy, only 60 pounds and 3 feet tall. Oh, and not a Parson Russell Terrier - Monday is a German Shorthair Pointer. Okay, don’t picture Rue’s dog at all. I’m sure she’s really cute, but that’s going to confuse things. Monday is a sight hound. That means he points at his prey, or in this case, the little red dot of the laser pointer. Just like in the cartoons - front leg lifted, snout pointed, back straight as an arrow. Monday just isn’t a very good sight hound. He only points for a few seconds, then he attacks. Like Lucy, he’s all over the place, biting and snapping in a general frenzy (not to be confused with a specific frenzy, I suppose), determined to eat that dot - except he’s 60 pounds of giant, muscled, hunting dog fury. It’s pretty funny, until you’re the one wearing the red dot on your arse. Then it’s not so funny.

I’ve also got a 3 pound, 7 week old kitten - Gracie. It’s generally known that kittens love laser pointers. For the most part, a 3 pound kitten isn’t going to win versus a 60 pound dog. Take, for example, yesterday’s scuffle. My sister, the instigator of much mayhem, was enjoying making Monday wear himself to frazzle chasing the laser pointer. He’d already upset his water dish, but I didn’t mind. He’s an energetic breed, and the more she made him run, the less I’d have to walk him later. I’m lazy. So sue me. Gracie comes sauntering around the corner in the midst of this melee, acting as if she owns the house, as she usually does. Concerned that she will be trampled, I leap from the couch and scurry over to scoop her up. I’m lazy, but I can be fast. As I’m bending over, I suddenly just KNOW. I feel that red dot burning into my denim clad arse, and know I’ve mere seconds before I’ve got 60 pounds of dog bearing down upon me. As I upright myself, Gracie also spies the dot. Moving with… well, catlike uh, grace, she leaps onto my ass and digs in with all four paws worth of claws just as Monday arrives to snap at my hindquarters as well. Yelping and spinning, Monday and I engage in an awkward pas de deux, twirling like the world’s oddest human ballerina and canine danseur, as Gracie executes a pretty little pirouette off of my ass and lands in a plant. Not to be outdone, she leaps in a beautiful grande jeté onto Monday’s snout, who makes one last futile attempt to snap at the laser dot, then makes a beeline for the floor beneath the coffee table, knocking my feet out from under me in the process. I try to recover gracefully, attempting at least a tour en l’air as I go down, but my prima ballerina days are long past. Really, my prima ballerina days never came around, who am I kidding. So the lesson here kiddies, is don’t let sadistic siblings play with laser pointers near your ass. Or something like that.

(Oh yeah - here’s Monday and Gracie, pre laser pointer scuffle.)

16

:eek: :smack: Note to self: Return to favorite clothes store on lunch hour…Buy shoes. Seriously, I have so many shoes, Mr. Anachi calls me “Imelda.”

I bow to a serious-clothes-junkie Master! :wink:

Yes, it is. But you will let us know when that inner teenaged girl comes out, won’t you??? :slight_smile:

17

No such luck with my dogs. I’ve tried the laser pointer around my PWDs, shaking the dot on the ground in front of their faces. They’d look, sniff, lett out a “pfft!”, and then ignore it.

18

Usually the MMP Regulars jump right in to be the First to Post (it’s considered Good Luck), but this week buttonjockey was first. Good for you, buttonjockey! Now you have to become a Regular. Or else…

I don’t have too many pet toys around here Swampy. Other than the radio-controlled car and the laser pointer, the rest of the toys are pet-driven. Some chew-bones and a squeeky ball (OK, I have to throw that, so it’s not totally pet-driven) and a rope-tug-toy (half the time Lucy just chews on it her ownself making it pet-driven, half the time it’s tug, so not). The cat got a mousy to play with and she liked it swell. So did Lucy. Lucy ate Mousie’s tail off and one ear. After surgery on Mousie* Lucy wasn’t allowed to play with it anymore, so Zoe only gets it when Lucy doesn’t want to play. So it’s not all that often.

Lucy chews the fuzz off tennis balls too, Biblio. I’m not trying to make Molly’s fuzz-chewing habit sound normal, but she’s not the only one who does that. I tried substituting a raquetball for the tennis ball since it’s already de-fuzzed, but Lucy chewed it in half, so it stopped with the ballness and got thrown out.

When Lucy is laying on the couch with us in the evenings watching TV and she hears a doorbell on the show, she has to run upstairs and bark at the front door. We tell her “it’s only the TV, stupid!” but she doesn’t believe us.

*Name that movie from the ridiculously short quote: “Mousie is a pilot!”

19

jay-c, I’m gonna pass out from the cuteness of that kitten. Happy pet stories are needed this morning, so thanks all of you . Animal control came by to pick up a sweet little stray a neighbor found and I cried all the way to work, thinking sad thoughts. Our pound is pretty cool about keeping animals a long time, but still. How’d somebody like a friendly little chocolate brown mutt with whiskers, shoe-button eyes, a white chest and one up one down ears? It’s times like this I regret not having a yard.

I do have two cats and they’re ridiculous. All their toys end up in their food dish, except for the epileptic mouse toy which lives in my bedroom, evidently. Tansy enjoys rolling around and falling off the furniture, plopping herself on my neck and emitting, erm, odors. Violet is a bird watching junky who still doesn’t seem to understand the concept of glass as a barrier. They’re both inordinately fond of olives, chomping my dwarf papyrus plant, and could care less about catnip.

I’m not speaking to Rue because he deceived us with stories of a false Jack Russell terrier. I will not mention that I found some nice meadow rue at the gardening center this weekend and it made me think of him.

swampy and burly gent, sittin’ inna tree, kay eye ess ess eye en gee…

20

couldn’t care less about catnip. Although they’re cats and if anybody had the attitude to care less about something, it would be a cat.