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The Good, the Bad, and the Oh My God of living with dogs!

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Just When You Think You’ve Mastered Something…

July 11, 2018 By Jodi

Sunday, my niece and I met some friends in Boston for the afternoon. We left for home around 5:45, and after hitting some traffic, and dropping her off, I arrived home after 8:30 pm.

Hubby had fed the dogs and made dinner for me, so after dinner we headed out for a quick walk so the dogs could potty.

When we walk the dogs together, Hubby is in charge of Sampson and I have the D-Dog.  I have to go on the record here and say, I do not like walking the dogs together.

This is not fun for any of us.

Delilah walks too fast for Sampson, and Sampson walks too slow for Delilah. Even with Hubby walking Sampson, he still wants to keep up and be with me, and he pushes himself too hard.

When Hubby walks Sampson, he also walks him off-leash. While Sampson listens well off-leash, I still don’t care for it. I don’t care for it, for two reasons.

  1. Sampson can go much farther than I like into someone’s yard.
  2. You just never know when something wild and crazy can happen.

Okay, I’ve set the scene.

Delilah and I are leading the charge, and I’m doing my best to rein her in. Sampson is behind me, and he’s doing his best to keep up.

After a few minutes both dogs have done their poops, and Sampson has just inched way too far up on someone’s lawn, and taken another dump.  As I’m bending to pick it up, I see someone on the same side of the street as us, and I can tell they have a dog. I also note there is someone sitting out on their front step, so I say to Hubby, you need to leash him up, because there are people in front, and people behind and the ones behind us have a dog.

I am already in avoidance mode with Delilah, so we cross the street, and I give her a couple of treats.

As the pair approach, I can see it’s the young guy who lives up the street, and has a Bernese Mountain dog. Really nice guy, sweet dog, but I just can’t vouch for how much training either one of them has had.

Hubby is in the middle of the street with Sampson, and Delilah and I are on the opposite side. She is sitting in front of me, focused on getting some treats.

I wave to the dog, “Hi Bear!” (His name is Barry, but considering his size, I just call him Bear.)

Dave (Barry’s owner….I wish he’d named the dog Buster) smiles and asks, “Can he say Hello?”

This gives me hope, because at least he knows enough to ask.

Now…neither one of my dogs has ever learned the proper way to meet and greet. In the obedience classes we went to, dogs were just allowed to run up to each other, and that usually worked out well…in a classroom situation. But outside of the classroom, well….we do live in DADO center, and most of our encounters have been off-leash dogs that just run strait up to them. Since Sampson’s gotten older, and less mobile, AND Hubby is with him, I feel fairly certain HE can handle it.

BUT, I’m not letting Delilah anywhere near the dog, so I say, “He can, but she’s not always good with other dogs.”

Sampson and Barry sniff each other, and the greeting/meeting goes well. Delilah is still oblivious to what’s going on, because she’s still focused on the treats.

Meet and greet over, and Hubby and Sampson start walking towards us to head home, when Delilah suddenly registers Barry.

She lunges at him.

Thankfully, I’ve had years of practice at catching her before she jumps into a fray, so I shortened her leash. She still wants at the dog, so I grab her harness to keep her from ripping my arm out of its socket.

At this point, Hubby and Sampson have reached us, and she’s still ready to roll. I’m not sure if she was in a “I want to meet you” mode, or “I’ll take a piece of that” mode, but I wasn’t ready to find out.

Believe it or not, I really wasn’t all that upset with her reaction to Bear. Hubby and I have long suspected her vision isn’t great.  Since her Endothelial Decompensation diagnosis, I’ve really been observing her, and I think she has a hard time seeing certain things. She sees a white treat on a dark driveway far easier than she sees a dark treat.  Since Barry is a dark colored dog, and it was at night I suspect she really didn’t notice him at first, and when she did she was startled.

Maybe that’s just the Pollyanna in me.

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Filed Under: WTF Wednesday Tagged With: Life With Sampson And Delilah, W.T.F. Wednesday

WTF Wednesday-An Eye for An Eye

May 6, 2015 By Jodi

Welcome to WTF Wednesday.  The day where I read and review news stories about animals and generally ask WTF was the human thinking? 

Most times I find myself wishing for an eye for an eye. 

 

You've heard this one right?

You’ve heard this one right?

Dog Thrown from Car Window

Dog thrown from car

Photo courtesy of Rochester, NH Police Dept.’s Facebook Page

All kinds of WTF on this one. The original story stated the dog had recently had puppies and been thrown from a car. At first I thought the owners might need to head over to The Poodle (and Dog) Blog for the Neanderthal or Lizard Brain award.

I thought, how hard could it really be to track these assholes down? I mean at some point they need to sell or give away the puppies, right? A smart cop would be scouring the papers/Craig’s List for the next month or so and should easily be able to discover the douche bag that threw the dog out.

Case closed.

Enter the next bit of WTF. I bookmarked the page so I could reference it in this post and when I checked the Rochester, NH Police Dept’s Facebook page, it had been updated saying the story of the dog being thrown out of a car was fabricated.

FABRICATED!

Who makes shit like this up? And WTF for?

Dog Found in Crate in Intersection

Dog found in intersection

Photo courtesy of NBC 2 News.

This little guy was found in a crate in an intersection in Naples, Florida. 

Brian Lachat initially thought it was a recycle bin. He watched as one car and then another hit the container. Then he saw the dog flopping around and quickly rescued the dog.

Turns out the dog had been surrendered to a rescue and was coming back from being neutered. Hopefully he was still juiced up on anesthesia because apparently the transport van lost the dog.

LOST THE DOG. And the crate.

How the hell do you lose a crate? Do you not notice a door is open. Or maybe think, hmmm I put three dogs in, but now there are only two…where did the third dog go?

How do you not know a door came open?

It boggles my mind.

I’m not trying to bash the rescue but maybe they should screen their volunteers just a tiny bit closer. Maybe one of their questions should be, WTF do you do to secure a dog in transport?

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Filed Under: WTF Wednesday Tagged With: Humor, W.T.F. Wednesday

A Great Dane Ate 43 Socks – WTF Wednesday

September 10, 2014 By Jodi

Welcome to WTF Wednesday.  The day where I read and review news stories about animals and generally ask WTF was the human thinking?

You've heard this one right?

You’ve heard this one right?

Oregon dog eats 43 socks. 

43 socks. A three-year-old Great Dane ate 43 socks.

I have so many questions.  SO MANY.

Do these people pay attention to the dog at all?  Whose turn was it to watch the dog?  Who does the laundry in your house?  Didn’t you wonder where all those socks were?  How many pairs of socks do you own?  What was the time frame, I mean did the dog get up one morning and eat 43 socks?   Did the dog stop eating his regular food because he has a sock fetish?  And finally, last but not least, WTF?

Let’s look at these questions one by one. 

Do these people pay attention to the dog at all?   I mean wouldn’t you notice?  The dog has a sock.  The sock is gone.  Where is the sock?   Hey puppy, I see you have a sock in your mouth. Shit, where’d that sock go?  You didn’t eat that sock did you?

My reality.  Sampson was being playful last Thursday.  He had the little squeaky from one of his toys, he picked it up in his mouth and threw it to me.  I threw it back.  We did this three or four times.  Then I threw the squeaky and he opened his mouth, but didn’t toss the squeaky back.  I screamed, “Drop it, drop it” and shoved my hand in his mouth.  The squeaky was not there.  I called the vet. As I was on the phone waiting to find out whether I should make him vomit or not I found a little squeaky on the floor. Both Hubby and I are fairly certain that he did NOT swallow a squeaker.  But it’s filed in the back of my mind, just in case he starts acting weird. (And for those of you who are curious, the answer is do not make him vomit.  Vomiting could cause the squeaker to lodge in his esophagus on the way back up.)

Sorry, my point is, I was watching my dog!!

Whose turn was it to watch the dog?   I blame the wife.  I mean we all know women pay more attention than men do, men are easily distracted, especially if the TV is on.

My reality.  Me to Hubby, how did this paper towel get torn up?  Hubby, I don’t know.  Me, what do you mean you don’t know?  You are sitting right in front of it!  Hubby pausing the TV, hush woman, The Big Bang Theory is on.

Who does the laundry in your house? Wouldn’t the person doing the laundry notice socks were missing?  Hmm…looks like Sally wore one sock this week.  NOT!

My reality.  Me.  I do the laundry in the house.  I pay attention to what I’m washing. When I’m short a sock I know about it.  Shit, come to think of it, where is that blue sock?  Delilah, Delilah, baby girl, come here!!

WHAT?  Socks?  Siriusly? Who in their right mind eats socks?  Ohh..it was a Dane you say?  Right.

WHAT? Socks? Siriusly? What dog in their right mind eats socks? Ohh..it was a Dane you say? Well that explains it.

Didn’t you wonder where all those socks went? Like, hubby goes to work every day, every day he changes his socks.  You do laundry once a week, why then aren’t there fourteen socks in the laundry?

My reality.  Gee I know Hubby wore a pair of socks every day this week, how come there are only three in the hamper?  Where’s that damn dog?

How many freaking pairs of socks do you own? Where do you store them?  Do you have a dresser just for socks?  Inquiring minds want to know.

My reality.  I barely have enough socks to last me a week.  If I were missing a dozen…well I wouldn’t have any.

What was the time frame, I mean did the dog get up one morning and eat 43 socks or did this happen over time?  Gee, I’ve been noticing that Fido has come out of the bedroom every morning for the last month with a sock in his mouth.  Where does the sock go?  Or gee, did you see the six packs of socks I just opened?  I know I put them somewhere.

My reality. When my dogs have anything in their mouth I’m paying attention. Delilah, drop that cookie!  I said drop it and don’t even think of trading it for a napkin.  Napkins are designed to wipe the outside of your mouth, not butt floss for the inside.

Did the dog stop eating his regular food because he has a sock fetish? I mean, socks are material. Material absorbs fluid.  If you add two plus two to forty three, I get that stomach has no room for kibbles.

My reality.  Delilah does not eat her food.  Shit, I better call the vet, something is wrong with this dog.

WTF?  No really, WTF?  I could see one sock, maybe two, but forty three? 

Funny enough, the owners of the Great Dane declined to identify themselves  I’m not surprised really, a dog that can eat 43 socks could probably win a pie eating contest. 

Apparently this story was submitted by a veterinarian for a contest called “They Ate What?” The scary thing is a rock eating frog took first place.  I’m not even touching who was watching that frog.

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Filed Under: WTF Wednesday Tagged With: Humor, Jodi Stone, W.T.F. Wednesday

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About Jodi

jodiHi, my name is Jodi. Thanks for stopping by and checking out my blog! I have all kinds of fun writing about my two crazy pups, Sampson and Delilah. Find out more!

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Heart Like A Dog by Jodi E. Stone is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.
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