The "My dog is a nutjob" thread

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
41

I love these stories! Dogs always have interesting personalities.

My dog (half lab, half springer) is fixated on his rubber chicken. One of our friends gave him a rubber chicken when we got him from the rescue group and he tore it apart in about a week, but he hid the pieces. 6 months later you’d see him walking around with a rubber chicken leg in his mouth. So we finally threw out all of the pieces and bought him a new one. He just carries this one around or lays on the floor and licks it, usually on it’s crotch.

My wife and I have a saying " Any situation is improved by a rubber chicken!" because that is the way our dog thinks. It doesn’t matter what you are doing, he’ll suddenly stand up and run out of the room and return with it. And if anyone comes to visit and sits on the couch he will walk up and lay it in their lap, as if saying “Look at this wondrous rubber chicken! Is it not beautiful? Behold it’s majesty!” and then pick it back up and walk away.

He also loves wiggling on the floor on his back, but he is embarassed by it. If he sees you looking at him he will quickly flip over and pretend he’s just been standing there licking his leg.

He cracked me up last night. I taught him to “roll over” about a month ago and last night he was just staring at me eating an ice cream sandwich and then suddenly he laid down and rolled over and stood up and started pawing my leg. I was dying!

42

Today’s nutjob dog story is that she ate a small bar of soap. Or, she chewed it into teeny tiny bits on the couch, not sure how much if it went down into the void within. Clearly what tastes good to this dog and what conceivably could ever taste good to me diverge greatly.

43

My dog Lita is part border collie, part lab, all apeshit. I’ve got her name and my cell number on a gold bone on her collar.

I have a fenced-in back yard, but I can’t keep her in it. She finds a spot to dig and will flatten her body like a worm and slip through the low spot. Later that afternoon, I’ll get a call from somebody in my neighborhood. “Hi, there’s a dog named Lita over here…”

I’ve put bricks and cement blocks in those holes, staked the fence down and wired it, and blocked it with plyboard. It looks like security fencing provided by Sanford & Son. It does no good. She will find any low spot and exploit it. As she’s gotten older (10 months this month) she’s also gotten stronger. She’s gotten to where she can PUSH the concrete blocks aside so she can dig.

At first, she kept going to my neighbor’s house three doors down, who own a large black lab named Smoky. She loves playing with him, so I arranged a little deal with my neighbor where I’d drop her off in the mornings. Went well for a couple of weeks, then she kept giving him the slip whenever he’d let the dogs out to pee. Then the inevitable call that afternoon on my cell. “Hi, there’s a dog named Lita over here…”

Now she’s gotten smart enough to know if she spends too much time at a neighbor’s, they’ll call me, so she’ll just prowl onward. Sometimes I don’t see her for 2-3 days, but she’ll eventually be back at my door.

Yes, I do have a leash. She hates the leash. That’s why she disappears before I wake up so I can’t leash her.

The times she’s not escaped, she’s chewed up shoes, leather, books, plastic, remotes, and a $300 pair of glasses. She chewed up a Raymond Feist book before I finished reading it. I had to spend another $25 to find out how the damn story ended. She climbed up to the top of my desk to chew the strap off my camera. I left tissues soaked with my flu snot laying around the house and she ate them.

I once bought a pair of feather pillows for my guest bed. When I got back that day, one pillow was in the guest bedroom, completely ripped apart and feathers scattered everywhere. If that weren’t bad enough, she dragged the other pillow outside through the dog flap and destroyed it too, leaving feathers scattered all over the yard like it was Turkey Christmas. My mulcher still hasn’t been able to get them all up.

I love that dog, but I swear if the SPCA calls me up and tells me she’s there, I’m going to tell them they got the wrong number.

44

My brother had a dog eat 3 thawing frozen bread dough loaves. They had to take the dog to the vet before the dough expanded to much. They learned that their dog will eat stuff from the back of the counter, and not to ever leave any food out for even a minute or the dog will eat it. The dog woofed it down when they went to the bathroom. “Where the Hell’s my dough?”

45

My dog once chewed up a tube of J-B Weld. He didn’t poop for two weeks.

46

My oldest guy is a black lab mix. He’s going on 14 years old and has slowed down a lot but will still eat anything and everything left out on the counter or in garbage cans.

Several years ago I came home from work to find a trail of hotdog, tortilla, pizza, etc wrappers strewn from the fridge into the bedroom. Cooper was asleep at the other end with a tummy full of food from the fridge. I figured I hadn’t pushed the door all the way shut when I left and it swung open.

Next day . . . another food trail, another full dog. Was it possible I left the door open again? The next day I checked the door very carefully before leaving and Cooper still had a fridge fiesta. Next day I left my video camera on and filmed the dog opening the fridge door with nose and paw leverage. For the remainder of my time in that house I had to bungie cord the fridge shut. Our new fridge seems to have a much stronger seal, as Coop has been unable to open it.

Cooper has also had a life of adventure outside of food: A fight with a very angry raccoon, three separate showdowns with three different pit bulls over the years (not his fault, the pits were dog-aggressive), survived a bad car accident, etc etc.

47

What did they do, induce vomiting?

I was a bit worried when my dogs got to a box of instant oatmeal, containing half a dozen packets or so. But it mostly went through their guts undigested.

48

Yes. The dog felt a bit under the weather a couple days, but is so stupid it would have done it again the next day.

49

The problem was the yeast dough was swallowed in large chunks and the stomach is warm. The yeast multiplies like crazy.

50

Crazy dogs galore:

My brats:

http://www.baddogs.com/bdc/viewstory.cfm?storyid=1760

The most expensive crazy dog ever:

http://www.baddogs.com/bdc/viewstory.cfm?storyid=1586

51

I have so many great dog-is-a-nutjob stories, it’s hard to pick just one. But this one’s a classic.

I rescued my second Boston Terror (no, that’s not a typo :wink: ) from a puppy mill and proceeded to enlist my first BT to help teach him how to be a dog. During that process, one of the dogs got injured – I think the older dog had muscle spasms in her shoulder. So the vet told me to fix her up by taking an old sock, pouring a pound or so of uncooked white rice into the sock, and tie the end closed. Then pop the rice sock in the microwave for a minute or two and then use it as a hot compress to ease Girly Dog’s muscle spasms. (This, in addition to several hundred dollars worth of drugs. )

So one night I used the rice sock on the dog and didn’t put it away. The next day, I came home from work to find that the Rescued Dog had found the sock and had also found the smell of the rice inside irresistable. Evidently, he and my other dog had danced around the house with this sock, flinging their heads back and forth, until the entire pound of rice was emptied in my living room. And in my kitchen. And in the bedroom.

I got out the vacuum and proceeded to clean up the rice. Couldn’t find the sock. Surely that blasted dog didn’t eat the freaking sock too? No, I found it that night… in the bed. Under the covers. Along with about a quarter pound or so of rice.

I got that all cleaned up and then my dog pooped rice for the next four days. It’s still the funniest thing any of my pets has ever done. I still found tiny grains of rice behind furniture and under things months later when I moved out.

52

One day I came home from work to my duplex that I had recently moved into. My roommate and I had left our dogs outside for the day, so the first thing I did was go to the back door and open it. To find a three inch layer of fluffy white foam covering the entire yard. My roomates dog had not only eviscerated my dog’s bed, but then they apparently spent the next few hours going nuts with it all over the yard. It looked like a fake Christmas scene. I had to really bite my lip to keep from laughing while I scolded her.

One Thanksgiving eve, my boyfriend and I turned off the light to go to sleep after a fine evening of turkey, etc. After about five minutes of total silence and darkness, we hear a distinct THUD from downstairs. Upon investigating, it seems Jake, his blue heeler, had jumped up on the stove, unwrapped the foil from the turkey, and threw the carcass on the floor. By the time I got to the scene, both he and my dog were innocently lying on their beds, looking at me like, “How did that get there?”

My dog also ate the crotches out of my underwear. But the funniest was when I had a striped knitted bikini which apparently had elastic that wasn’t tasty. Plus the knit caused the cloth to unravel fairly evenly. When I found them they looked absolutely, perfectly like a pair of crotchless panties. Then the next day my dog pooped a rainbow colored poop.

One last one. My roommate and I had a party, and a bunch of people showed up. After a few hours, I took a seat on the couch, and looked up to see my dog in the kitchen. A guy I had never seen before was pouring an entire can of beer into his cupped hand as my dog lapped it up. I realized…my dog can pound a beer faster than I can!

53

This morning, Maggie dragged one of my tennis shoes down the stairs and pulled one of the laces partway out, but didn’t eat through it. Lucky her.
Her other victim, if I interpreted it correctly, was my mother’s hair coloring kit. She bit into the tube, but failed at dyeing herself or the bed chestnut brown.

54

I thought I had the nuttiest nutbar dog of all, Diggity, my late Golden Retriever. He drove me crazy for 15 years – his volume was cranked up to 11 until the day he keeled over. He was completely housebroken and knew basic commands, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t really make him do anything he didn’t want to do.

He somehow managed to knock a small bottle of Kahlua off the top of the refrigerator and drank it. He ate the seat belts in the back of the car. He consumed many stuffed toys, socks, shoes, a nerf football. He shredded phone books, toilet paper, Allen Ginberg’s “Howl” and countless other stuff. No matter how puppy proofed the house was, he’d always find its weakness.

Man, I miss that dumb dog. There was never was a happier, goofier dog alive. Well, maybe there was one goofier one. For the nutbar dog of all times, you all should read Marley & Me: Life and Love With the World’s Worst Dog. It’s a very funny tribute to bad dogs everywhere.

55

My dog Olive, is half border collie, half springer spaniel. My cat, Mango is not that bright - I tried for 2 years to get him to use the cat flap to no avail. Then one day I heard him scratching to come in, but didn’t bother getting up - half noticed Olive getting up. Then I see Mango inside. The same thing happened the next day, so I had to follow Olive the following day - she went and opened the door for Mango - standing with her head sticking out the flap whilst Mango squeezed his way inside. She did this for about 5 months, then Mango suddenly worked out how to do it by himself!
When she was a puppy she ate a bag of dried apricots - then all that night proceeded to sick them up, one by one under my bed - all rehydrated again.
The other day she helped herself to an avocado - there were two, but apparently she only wanted one. Then the following week, I noticed one of the two new avocados were missing - just assumed Olive had helped herself again. When I went to bed, I found a hard unripe advocado under my pillow - I think she thought she’d leave it there til it got ripe enough to eat.

56

My dog Laska, now departed from this world, used to eat those miniature Christmas light bulbs and pencils.

She liked the traditional yellow pencils best.

57

Shoesdog’s (she’s a miniature Australian Shepherd) nutjobieness is that she is not motivated by food (she’ll share any of it with any other creature), but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have food “issues”. When she gets anxious or nervous while at home alone during the day I can always tell.

I can tell she had a “bad day” because tiny 3 kernel food piles will be hidden in various places around the house. Under a couch cushion, in a small neatly pushed together blanket pouch on my bed. Once I found a small pile of clothes stolen from the laundry room piled in the middle of the hallway. The sides of the pile were all neatly tucked under and around something. When I picked them all up, I discovered that the “something” was her upside-down food dish, carefully hidden under the dirty clothes pile.

If I give her something especially tasty for dinner, say roast juices left over from cooking and soaked into her normal dinner, she becomes a complete neurotic nut about her dinner. She’ll whine at it in the most pathetically weird way, and push her nose all around at it. If I let her, she’ll push it over and try to bury it.

She’ll drop a steak bone with nice meat bits left on it to rush out and play with her favorite toy (the boomer) if she hears you say the word. As I said, she’ll share her food with not a single growl, but don’t TOUCH any of her toys, that will get you in trouble.

She also “talks back” when commanded to do something she doesn’t want to do. She has this talky-growl that she uses. It’s hard to be firm and commanding when you’re laughing too hard.

58

When I was little my grandmother had a poodle, Buffy, and a large tabby cat, Tiger. Buffy loved to grab Tiger’s ear in her mouth and drag her around the house, sliding her over the tile floors. She was gentle and never hurt Tiger, so she never put up a fuss.

Buffy would go to the groomer’s sometimes and they would always put bows in her fur right where her ears were attached to her head. They would paint her toenails to match the color of the bows. She didn’t mind if the paint was purple, blue, or green, but if it was red she would get upset and chew the paint off. Presumably she thought she was bleeding. They say dogs are colorblind, but I don’t know.

My uncle has a Pembroke Welsh Corgi that is terrified of thunder, and has to hide behind the toilet until it stops thundering. If he can’t hide behind the toilet, his only other means of coping with the thunder is to poop on the floor, repeatedly, until the thunder goes away.