OK, this is my first dog, so I really didn’t quite know what to expect. She’s overall a good dog-- doesn’t bark, is nice to the cats, doesn’t run away or chew my shoes. But Tuesday morning, I discovered that she had gotten into the pantry closet and eaten an ENTIRE, FULL container of Metamucil. :eek: She tried to wake me up in the middle of the night so she could pass some of it, but I didn’t take her seriously b/c she whines often for no reason, and it was 4am. As a result, there were Metamucilized poops all over the mudroom.
You’d think she’d have learned her lesson, but on Thursday, she got the cereal boxes off the counter and ate both of them. Clearly the message is that all food (and laxatives) must be under lock and key. But seriously, Metamucil?!? What a nutjob. She’s fine now, but the gaseous emissions for the last 4 days have been horrendous.
Please tell me that I’m not alone in this and that other people’s dogs do crazy stuff like this too…
My dog loves having her butt skritched - so much so that when she comes to you for lovin’, she’ll put her head on the floor and keep her hind end in the air. As you skritch at the base of her tail, she does something with her back legs, not exactly sure what, so that she ends up practically doing a somersault. She’ll get up and assume the position again, as long as you’re willing to skritch.
My dog is a wise old man now, but the first year we had him, what an idiot. He had a taste for Crayolas, not those cheap Rose Art crayons though. If my son was missing a particular color, I’d lift up the dog’s lips to see if his teeth were that color. If they weren’t, I’d check out the poop in the back yard.
The very first day we had him, I almost sent him back. It was in the spring and the yard was covered with wild onions. He ate onions until his belly was sticking out, then cried for an hour until he started farting. Then we cried.
Dogs are so entertaining, that’s why I love them so.
Growing up, I had a dog who did many strange things. He ate apples like a human, well sort of. We had apple trees in our backyard and once the apples fell, we’d see him laying beneath the trees with an apple between his paws. He’d take a bite, spin it a little, another bite, until he’d eaten all the way around the apple, leaving a core, just like a human. He also ate grapes, but ONLY if you peeled them. We would literally turn his nose up if you gave him an upeeled grape, but would sit there until you peeled it and gave it back to him. :rolleyes: He would also steal meat from the Hibachi. We didn’t have a big BBQ, just the little Hibachi. The dog would wait until he thought nobody was paying any attention. He’d slink up to the BBQ, look around, and, if he thought the coast was clear, grab the piece of meat and run for his life to a corner of the yard and gobble it up. Finally, every time we brought the dog back from the dog groomer, he’d insist on going in the backyard. Once we opened the door, he’d circle the entire yard, prancing, with his head held high. He was just a mutt, but when he did that he pranced just liked those prancing stallions. It was hilarious.
My current dog is a real nut job. I love him to death and he’s just a big love, but good grief he does nutty stuff. The first year we had him, someone had given me a huge box of chocolates. We all went out, but I left the box, closed, on the middle of our dining room table. I came home to find the box shredded, the little chocolate wrappers everywhere, but not a chocolate to be found. I thought for sure my dog was going to die or become very ill. Didn’t even faze him. The following week, someone brought a carrot cake over, still in it’s little plastic cover that surrounds the cakes at the grocery stores. Again, I stupidly left it sitting on the middle of the dining room table and we all went out to dinner with the idea we’d come back for cake and coffee. We came home, the cake container was separated and there wasn’t a single bit of cake left. Finally, this dog has a thing for sticks, he carries them everywhere. I’m not talking small “regular” sticks, I’m talking sticks that are about six inches in diameter. If he can’t find one that size, he’ll gather up several stick and carry them all at once.
One evening, we left a full tub margarine on the table. The tub was eight inches in diameter and five inches deep. The next morning, the tub was empty and our black lab’s coat had a nice, glossy glow to it.
This is the thing that I do not understand about dogs. How do they manage to eat what they eat, in such quantities? I mean, a whole tub of margarine? An entire container of Metamucil? Peeled grapes? I don’t get it! My cats like people food, but in moderation. They are much more restrained than dogs.
Every dog I’ve ever had has wanted to eat lotion. If I put lotion on my hands, arms, or feet, I’m going to get licked. They’ll eat Vaseline too. One dog managed to open a container of perfumed eye cream and ate the whole thing. One the other hand, Vick’s VaporRub sends them running from the room.
As I understand it, unlike humans ( for example ) dogs often don’t eat until they have enough; they eat until they physically can’t pack in another scrap of food. That’s why chocolate is dangerous to them; it contains a substance that is potentially poisonous, but only at chocolate dosages a human would never take. Since a dog eats more proportionally, they get a higher dose and can die.
At a guess, it may be because pack animals often make large kills, and need to get as much as possible before it gets stolen/goes bad.
Oddly enough, my male cats all love to eat Vaseline. They know what the sound of me opening the container is, and they all come running. It’s weird. However, they would NOT eat a whole container of it or anything.
Chinook the dog was my all time favorite liar and thief.
He adored everything mint flavored. He would climb onto the counter to get to tea bags, unzip purses to steal gum and breath mints, and defeated every childproof latch on the market to eat toothpaste and guzzle mouthwash. He could do all of these things very quietly, too, so after many hundred dollars in Vet bills, I* finally* learned to brush with baking soda, swish with nasty cinnamon-flavored mouthwash, and greet guests at the door with a request to remove all mint-flavored products from their person.
When he was just a puppy, he sprained his ankle, so the vet had me give him baby aspirin. Shouldn’t have been a life-changing event, but he spent the rest of his life wanting more! If I opened that cupboard (the very tall one in which the baby aspirin resided) he would come running. If his mere presence didn’t procure the desired pill, he would sit. Then he’d “shake”. Then he’d try shaking with his other foot. Then he’d roll over. Then he’d limp across the kitchen. Then he’d limp back, but with the other leg. I had to admire his creativity and lifelong persistence, and it certainly made medicating him easier. He never gave up hope that the next pill would be the coveted baby aspirin.
He also stole potatoes and hid them under the far left couch cushion. Just red potatoes – never russets. He didn’t eat them, rarely even left a tooth mark, just stole them to hide in that corner of the couch.
Once on Christmas my daughter left some candy on the couch. We went to my sister-in-law’s. Our dog Max ate all the chocolate Santas that were wrapped in foil and in a plastic mesh bag. She tore open several packs of Mentos. She did not like the Mentos. They were spread out all over the room.
In the spring I found a pile of foil with Santa colors and the plastic mesh in the back yard. I was always finding piles of thread, because she would eat my underwear.
Once our friends took care of her for the weekend. When I went to pick her up my friend didn’t want to tell me that Max had gotten into the dirty clothes, which were on the floor in the hallway, and ate all the crotches out of her underwear. She didn’t want to tell me because she had jeans on and she had on no underwear!
We would play keep-away with Max, throwing a tennis ball back and forth. She would try for it, and often get it, until she dropped with exhaustion.
Now we have Lily, a Jack Russell Terrier. Max is long gone from old age. We have tried to play keep-away. We throw the tennis ball and Lily looks at us like, “What the hell are you doing? I’m not chasing that.”
She gets hysterical about squirrels in the yard. So she barks at the window. When we first got her I unfortunately found that she was biting at the wood between the window panes when she was upset about the squirrels. She had chewed the wood right down to the glass. My husband had to build it up with some kind of material, sand it to match the wood, and paint it. The two windows there are now covered with plexiglass. I also can’t have curtains that hang down very far in there because she will turn her head and bite at the curtains until they are shredded.
My dog is downright normal compared to some of these canines. At least she doesn’t eat my underwear. That’s going to become my mantra, I think. Thanks for making me feel better about my insane puppy.
When I was younger and still living with my parents, my youngest aunt once came to visit. She brought with her a half full jar of Noxema. I know this because while we were out for the day, our 8 pound chihuahua ate it!
My late great Cheyenne was the smartest dog I’ve ever seen. But she was a thief, big time. When we let her out in the mornings, she would go over to the school bus stop and play with the kids waiting for the bus, then steal their lunches. Her timing was impeccable; she would grab and run JUST as the bus was slowing down, so the poor kid who’d left his lunch on the ground while playing had a choice: go hungry or miss the bus chasing the dog down. Mind you, she didn’t eat the lunches – they were trophies.
One winter, she stole some kid’s plastic sled after a snowstorm. Our neighbor called and told us to look out the front window. Cheyenne was running merrily along the ditchbank hauling this sled behind her (she was part Malamute), swinging it from side to side behind her, throwing it around and catching it.
She also stole chicken off our neighbor’s BBQ. I saw her do this. The neighbors behind us were having a little party and had set their Weber kettle out. Cheyenne was outside watching, and when the folks went inside to get drinks or something, she ran around the fence to their deck, jumped up, put her front paws on the picnic table, took a piece of chicken off the fire, ran back to our house and promptly ate it. The neighbors came back out and were chatting and turning the chicken (minus one piece) while Cheyenne stayed put. They went back in, and she repeated the exercise. She was a little ticked when I went out and took it away from her. She worked hard for that!
My Joplin boy is also a thief, but a lazy one. A counter surfer, he has eaten some seriously weird things: about a pound of good-quality chocolates, a box of brownie mix, part of a bag of flour, a half a pizza left unsupervised, bags of chips or anything else that might be left on the counters. He has a thing for eating paper and pens, and is obsessed with tissues, preferably used ones. He ate a half pound of butter once.
Aside from the eating disorder, he hates the sound of popping gum and bubble wrap. Thunder, lightning, nothing else fazes him, but a piece of bubble wrap will send him to a corner in mortal fear.
Joplin also likes to wake me by degrees. First, he gets on the bed and BREATHES on me. Hot smelly dog breath. If that fails to rouse me, he lays right up next to me and “presses” his head on mine. If I don’t respond, he moves his head to my chest, then the throat. Just pressing. Then he moans, so it vibrates. I can feel his tail wagging when he does this. Then he sighs in my ear. For the crowning move, he will drape his 80+ lb. body across me, dead weight.
I love my dog, but he’s nuts.
My name is Marley, and I have a crazy dog. Her name is Maggie, and she’s an English Springer Spaniel. The craziest thing she’s ever eaten, I think, is a bar of Ivory soap. (In the same meal, she chewed through a toothbrush, and more recently she’s gotten into shoes.) She threw up a couple of times, and there were bubbles in it. That’s how we realized what she’d wolfed down. She was very confused and sad, something on the lines of “I don’t understand - why is food being mean to me?” She’s never chowed down on soap again.
We got her about a year and a half ago, and we’ve gradually put locks on all the cabinets she can reach. Before that, she’d knock the tall cabinet open and rip into a bag of napkins. She doesn’t just chew paper, she loves to eat it. Tissues are a particular delicacy, but she has nothing against garbage bags or candy wrappers. She liked the bathroom garbage, but only when my mother was on her period. I was very insistent that we put a latch on that one.
But Maggie’s not crazy because of what she eats. It’s who she is. Her favorite passtime is chewing. She loves to play tug-of-war with any of her toys, which include bones and a few knotted ropes. Her joy is obvious as she tugs strands out of the rope and slowly dismantles the whole thing. A good, sturdy rope from the pet store typically lasts her a week. She’s a very insistent player, but if the mood strikes and her rope is somewhere else, she’s more than happy to chew on your fingers. I tolerate this more than anybody else does; she and I have a system. She doesn’t bite hard, and I hook my pinky behind her canines so she isn’t actually hurting me.
She chews something - usually paper from the garbage - almost every morning before I get up. She knows we don’t like it and she’s always acting guilty, but never tries to hide what she’s done and never considers not doing it. One morning, she ate through the shoelaces from both my dress shoes AND my sneakers.
Maggie is always starved for attention. But if you pet her, after a minute or two, she’ll inevitably start growling and snarling at you. And sometimes biting at your fingers. It’s a bad idea to get your face too close to her.
So you stand up and walk away, and when you come back (if she doesn’t follow you), she’ll pretend it never happened. Nobody has a clue why she does this. She’s hyper, but lazy. And she’s nervy, too! She will hop up onto your bed or couch and lay on you, and after a few minutes of attention, she’ll start growling at you. On your bed. Clearly, she has no sense of irony or propriety, even considering that she’s a dog.
Our dog Snuffles would pull the candy canes off the bottom branches of the Christmas tree, and eat them - plastic wrapping and all. After that year, we learned to move them up from those branches.
My mom encouraged her, though. Mom fed her tic-tacs. We used to say Snuffes was my mother’s fourth child.
We had one dog, Buster, that chewed through a very large container of vaseline and licked the jar clean. We had to replace the carpet in the entire house. He spent the next fifteen years apologizing. Buster was the best dog in the world.
Our other dog Butch went nuts when the mailman would come. The guy would just laugh because there was a window between him and ol’ Butch.
He wasn’t laughing the day the dog busted his head clear through the glass! Only thing that saved the mailman was bars on the window! :eek:
He also chewed the corner of my mother’s brand new mattress and had a blast tearing through my daughter’s first Easter basket. (only had the white “chocolate” that year thank goodness, but you should have seen what multicolor jellybeans looked like piled in our backyard!)
Nevertheless, Butch was still the second best dog in the world.
