Man's best friend stories.
This is a discussion on Man's best friend stories. within the Off Topic & Humor Discussion forums, part of the The Back Porch category; This thread is for funny stories about your dog.
I'll start off first. My black lab was a very well behaved dog. He was trained ...
January 29th, 2013 06:19 PM
Man's best friend stories.
This thread is for funny stories about your dog.
I'll start off first. My black lab was a very well behaved dog. He was trained to never go through a door to the outside without permission and when outside he would never leave our yard. He could be outside for an hour or two and not go past his boundaries. He was very trustworthy.
After our move to Ohio we had a next door neighbor who slowly corrupted my dog. He would always sneak treats to my dog and would constantly try to call my dog across the property line with food. My dog would wait for permission at the edge of the property line for the first few years that we lived there. After a while though he was corrupted by the neighbor and he learned that he could go across our yard boundary without being punished. Eventually he started going on his own adventures because of my neighbors corrupting.
On one of his adventures he found a young lady who was jogging and decided to tag along. He ran with her for about 5 miles and eventually followed her all the way home. When they called us they wanted to keep him because he was so nice. We, of course, said no and I went and got my extremely tired out dog. He was around ten by then and he slept almost 12 hours straight after he got home from his adventure.
I haven’t heard any of the journalists who volunteered to be waterboarded asking to have their fingernails wrenched out with pliers, or electrodes attached to their genitals.
January 29th, 2013 06:30 PM
Not my story, not my dog...
DOG FOR SALE
A guy is driving around the back woods of Montana and he sees a sign in front of a broken down shanty-style house: 'Talking Dog For Sale 'He rings the bell and the owner appears and tells him the dog is in the backyard.
The guy goes into the backyard and sees a nice looking Labrador retriever sitting there.
'You talk?' he asks.
'Yep,' the Lab replies.
After the guy recovers from the shock of hearing a dog talk, he says 'So, what's your story?'
The Lab looks up and says, 'Well, I discovered that I could talk when I was pretty young. I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA.
In no time at all they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping.'
'I was one of their most valuable spies for eight years running...
But the jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger so I decided to settle down. I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security, wandering near suspicious characters and listening in.
I uncovered some incredible dealings and was awarded a batch of medals.'
'I got married, had a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired.'
The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.
'Ten dollars,' the guy says.
'Ten dollars? This dog is amazing! Why on earth are you selling him so cheap?'
'Because he's not trustworthy, he a liar. He's never been out of the yard'.
The last Blood Moon Tetrad for this millennium starts in April 2014 and ends in September 2015...according to NASA.
Certified Glock Armorer
NRA Life Member
January 29th, 2013 07:01 PM
My dog Pierce who is 12 now grew up in a fraternity house. He was well know for scrounging around the porch during parties to knock peoples' beers over to get a sip of the good stuff for himself. People learned to mind their drinks when Pierce was about.
"Was there no end to the conspiracy of irrational prejudice against Red Ryder and his peacemaker?"
Revolvers, “more elegant weapons for a more civilized age.”
January 29th, 2013 07:48 PM
Had a black & tan hound as a kid, named Elmer. We often argued who owned whom. We finally had to work out a contract with a pinkie/paw shake.
Elmer was a house dog, meaning he thought he owned the house. That part wasn't in the contract. Elmer rang the doorbell when he wanted in. When we didn't respond fast enough, he learned to open the door, twisting the knob with his teeth.
He ruined fishing for me. For whatever reason, he loved to try to eat my Bomber plugs. I had to cut off all the hooks to get them out of his mouth. Can't catch fish on a Bomber plug with no hooks. i know, I tried.
Elmer wasn't very bright. I was home sick with the flu once, for a week. Every day Elmer jumped out of my bed to go meet me at the bus stop. I had to rattle the food bowl to call him home.
I shot a squirrel once. When it hit the ground, I told Elmer to "fetch it." He turned his nose up and walked home. Seems that wasn't in the boy/dog contract. It took all night for him to rewrite the contract. Apparently Gravy Train is a powerful negotiating tool.
The only person Elmer ever bit was me. I bit him back. The next day he, and his two German Sheppard escorts, handed me a new contract containing an offer I couldn't refuse. The AFL-CIO could only hope to have a negotiator like Elmer.
I've got to get me another Elmer someday.
Retired USAF E-8. Lighten up and enjoy life because:
Paranoia strikes deep, into your heart it will creep. It starts when you're always afraid...
Buffalo Springfield - For What It's Worth
January 29th, 2013 08:24 PM
My BEST Dog
I had the perfect mixed breed... he was a Collie/ Pitbull mix. After he tore off your arm he would run for help!
January 29th, 2013 08:39 PM
My wife (girlfriend at the time) was on cancer treatments when I took her to the local SPCA just to get her out of the house (fresh air). While there she saw this absolutely gorgeous Border Collie. The Border Collie was about 2 years old and had been brought in the day before. We were the first people to sign up for her. A week later we got the call to come pick her up. My wife named her Mandy. I trained Mandy to set or lie in the yard while I walked 30-40 feet away. With my back turned I would point to one side or the other and Mandy would come and sit at that side and look up at me. She was my wife's constant companion in between her cancer treatments. Even the doctors said Mandy was my wife's best treatment. Mandy was an angel on four paws. At night she would go to each bedroom and check to make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be before she layed down. We lost her just after Christmas 2003 and still miss her.
January 29th, 2013 10:00 PM
I remember the first week we had Katie at our home. She was quiet and reserved, but friendly, just like she was at the pound. Three days into being with us we took her in to be spayed. Three days after surgery our quiet reserved dog was running around the house growling leaping down an entire flight of steps with lots of air hang time, and landing most of the way into the living room. With stitches no less!
That was our first experience with her orbiting behavior. Whenever she built up too much energy, she would orbit. We learned to run her hard and play with lots of enthusiasm to avoid most of the indoor orbits. She would frequently run once, twice, and occasionally three times around the house when retrieving fetches.
I really miss her.
January 29th, 2013 10:51 PM
Chloe was a giant sized Red Doberman that was the best home security system but to put it simply, there was a reason why she was a rescue. Despite her giant body size, I don't think her brain was comparable. She was a lover dog yet very protective and basically if there is down syndrome for dogs or something like it, she had it. Her spine was a bit crooked and her eyes were a bit crossed...which leads me to
Chloe was a bed wetter. Yup, dogs can do it to. For a time I kept finding little wet spots on her bed and other places throughout our home. She wasn't prone to accidents so I was dumbfounded to where it was coming from unless she was just licking herself on the bed and creating the wet spots.
So one day I was sitting in my lazy boy and she was by my side and I thought I heard the sound of one of those little indoor fountains peope have on end tables, coffee tables etc. I don't own one of those things so I looked around without getting up and noticed Chloe fast asleep beside me. I got up as quietly as possible to not disturb her sleep and lo and behold she had a slow stream of pee coming out of her.
There was also a time where she was chewing on a rawhide bone and somehow got a section of it lodged in her mouth to a point that she couldn't get it out. At first I thought she was being her usual dumb self but then realized the look of panic she had and had to help her remove the stuck bone from her mouth.
Ahhh what a special girl. She's still missed and always will be.
"Was there no end to the conspiracy of irrational prejudice against Red Ryder and his peacemaker?"
Revolvers, “more elegant weapons for a more civilized age.”
January 30th, 2013 07:59 AM
Friar Tuck, was a bird hunting machine!
He was a German wirehaired pointer and the best and worst dog I have ever been around but he was my first and last.
He loved to hunt, he loved to ride in the truck, sleep and eat. I think that's why we got along so good.
He slept in front of the gun safe, I think so he would not miss a hunting trip. He would wake up and get out of the way of the door and watch to see where you got rifle or shotgun, if you grabbed a rifle he went back to sleep. When you picked up a shotgun he went and a high gear. I do not understand how a dog can tell a difference, rifle hunts did not involve him, he was only interested in shotguns and birds.
I miss him every day.
It is pardonable to be defeated but never surprised.
2 Ruger alaskan .454s
January 30th, 2013 08:11 AM
This is a story about my Dad's hunting dog (Pointer) named Spooky.
He was a great hunting dog with only one weakness....skunks. Every hunting trip he would find at least one, which meant tomato juice. One time my Dad got so sick of his attacking skunks (and them attacking back) he just picked old Spook up and threw him in a creek. It was my brother's job to get the tomato juice and apply. As I was told...the car rides back were very unpleasant. Dad always got his limit of what he was hunting and Spooky always got a skunk or two. Decades later and my brother still can't stand the smell of tomato juice.
A woman must not depend on protection by men. A woman must learn to protect herself.
Susan B. Anthony
A armed society is a polite society. Manners are good when one has to back it up with his life.
January 30th, 2013 08:25 AM
One american bully I had once fell in love with grandfathers leg( rip gramps) and had him pinned in the corner "loving the heck out of his leg" .He yelled out "Criminy" (my gramps never swore in all the years I was blessed to learn from him) and my reply was " Just let him get done gramps!!!" Tired dog finished and went and laid down and took a nap
January 30th, 2013 09:04 AM
I appologize for the length of this.
She was a mixed breed of a possible Border Collie and sneaky neighbour's dog. She was not my dog originally, she belonged to my wife and her kids. She was rescued by my wife when she was still in Illinois and the dog became hers. The kids would drop pieces of food off their plates to the happily awaiting dog with no name and after gulping down the morsel without the benefit of chewing, would look up for more. The kids would ask "you want s'more?" Then drop some more bits. They named her S'more and she kind of had the colouration of S'mores.
When the wife and I married, she journeyed to West Virginia and the dog came with her. I really did not want a dog at that time but if I wanted the wife, I had to accept the dog. We had become somewhat acquainted by my visits before the marriage and the dog adopted me. Her problem was she was wired for sound like on steroids. Nervous, anxious and downright mean sometimes. Adjusting to a sudden move was tantamount to the near total destruction of the house we lived in. She tore the door knobs by chewing on them, clawed the door and door casings nearly off in an effort to get out. We really didn't know what to do but she soon settled down.
Then, we bought another house and moved and repeat the process above. It took some time but she soon got used to her new Castle and became the Matron of Defense. I have said that she was simply the meanest dog I had ever seen and felt that if in her prime, a burglar came to call, she would have shredded him.
She loved me however and really did not ask much in return only that I return that love. We became sort of buddies over the few years she was here, loved to go on walks, chase squirrels at the vacant lots nearby our home and would travel with me and the wife to visit her son in Indiana when he lived there and also her family in Illinois.
She began to go down hill in late 2010, we really did not know how old she was we guessed about 13, but I knew old age was creeping in. We went camping at Black Water Falls State Park that July and it was the last best time she really had. She began to have urinary problems, she got arthritis. We medicated her as best as possible, I even gave her some of my glucosamine for her joints and it eased her a bit. She still loved that walk and when I would grab her lead, she would jump up and down like a puppy, run to the back door and as I opened it, she would bolt across the yard to the gate. This was our last routine.
She resigned herself to sleeping on the couch downstairs, she could no longer navigate our long staircase to the bedroom, so we made it her personal domain. We had to put down puppy pads on top of plastic shower curtains because she was having problems. It was really disheartening to see her going down.
In December 2012 we had a burglary. The guy pried our back door open and entered, stole guns and left quickly. I think S'more slept through the "visit" and did not know anyone was there. If this would have happend several years ago, there would have been carnage upon the part of the thug from the dog. Unfortunately, she was not able to defend our home. She suffered a stroke shortly there after and we had to have her put to sleep on Dec. 21st. Needless to say, I miss the old gal, I had grown quite attached to her.
I used to wear a shirt that had the imprint of "I am my dog's personal trainer" and each time I see it, I think of S'more, and I think about the phrase "I want to be the kind of person that my dog thinks that I am."
I hope she's resting comfortably where she has gone and is waiting for me to take her for a walk.
Last edited by JoJoGunn; January 30th, 2013 at 09:25 PM.
"A Smith & Wesson always beats 4 aces!"
The Man Prayer. "Im a man, I can change, if I have to.....I guess!" ~ Red Green
January 30th, 2013 09:08 AM
Back in the late 70's the McRib sandwich hit here. I like ribs and one day decided to try one. It was terrible, I didn't care for it at all.....and I'm not picky. My wife didn't like it either, so I decided to give it to our Lab. I threw it to her in her pen, she sniffed it and threw it back out at me. (well maybe not exactly true)
Actually a few years ago we found an abandoned male puppy, a mix with maybe a touch of Rott? We also found 3 female pups tossed out along the road a few months later. We've raised them all, vaccinated, wormed, neutered, etc. Ultimately we have four yard dogs, and when I see them all laying out in the yard I always think of that Jeff Foxworthy joke about if your porch falls and kills more than 6 dogs, you might be a redneck. I'm getting close to fitting that.
Anyway 3 females and one male dog. We live very rural, with a pipeline nearby. Sometimes when the weather is nice my wife and I will walk a long distance on the pipeline. Of course the dogs go with us, and as soon as we hit the woods, the three female dogs pick up a deer scent or whatever and take off. The male dog who generally runs with them, will not leave us. He has promoted himself to our personal escort and he leads the way on our hike. We're thrilled to have him with us, I do believe he'll alert us to a snake-in-the-grass or pose a threat to anything else and buy us some time. He's extremely loyal as our escort, when we get back home the females are typically beat us back home.
When the grandkids come to visit, all the dogs love to be around them and play with them. The male, once again, is especially loyal and dedicated to them when their outside. We're lucky.
Turn the election's in 2014 to a "2A Revolution". It will serve as a 1994 refresher not to "infringe" on our Second Amendment. We know who they are now.........SEND 'EM HOME. Our success in this will be proportional to how hard we work to make it happen.
January 30th, 2013 10:42 AM
When I was a younger fella' I fell into the terrible habit of running ~5-6 miles a day. Because of the oppressive heat in Houston I would take-off on my run just as the sun was coming up. I lived in an apartment complex & one of my neighbors had a big, beautiful Rottweiler named "Max". He, his owners & I were good friends. I began my run earlier than usual one morning (in the dark) and about 3 miles from home, with just enough light to see, I realized that Max was trying his best to keep up with me, lumbering, huffing & slobbering along a few yards behind. I stopped & gave his pumpkin-sized head a good rub as he nuzzled against my thigh showing his appreciation for the exercise break. I tried to resume my run but strangely kept having to encourage Max follow me, stopping a dozen times to call him back from distractions & finally had to practically drag him home. He was completely exhausted by the time we rounded the last corner to his apartment. I knew Max's owners would be in frantic panic trying to find him so I immediately went & knocked on their door. It was still quite early in the morning as Max's "Mom" answered the door rubbing her eyes & looking a bit pissed about being awakened. Just as I proudly said, "Here's your dog", I see an over-sized black nose peek from behind her robe. Max is in his apartment & I realize that I've just dog-napped his identical twin from a neighborhood three miles away in Metro Houston! While Max and "the other Max" are socially sniffing one another on the porch, we're hard pressed to tell them apart. They are absolutely IDENTICAL, save for one small scar on pseudo Max's rump. As I tell the story & we begin to laugh, Max's "Dad" comes out as well, he can't tell them apart at all. Max & his owners go back inside their apartment, now I've gotta' get a huge, strange dog that I have NO idea where he lives...back home!
There was no way that new Max could ride on the back of my motorcycle, so we start walking back to where we met. And I had NO idea how long he had been following me when I first spotted him. Houston gets very HOT, very HUMID in a hurry and pseudo Max is already totally worn-out. This makes our 3 mile walk s-l-o-w & slobbery. As I get back to what I hope is Max's street, he begins to perk-up. In front of a nice house he breaks into a trot & goes straight through a doggie door into the garage. I can hear him loudly lapping from an inside water bowl while I'm still standing out in the driveway.
Now I'm not CERTAIN that pseudo Max lived there, but I knew for sure he didn't live with me. I thought about knocking on the door & explaining our exhaustive adventure. But I just walked back home. I had humped 12 miles, I was late for work & I was reminded that no good deed goes...unpunished.
There are only TWO kinds of people in this world; those who describe the world as filled with two kinds of people...and those who don't.
January 30th, 2013 11:37 AM
Several years ago, after we had our mini dachshund Fulmer for a while my wife went on a business trip for several days. She got home and got out of the car, Fulmer was so excited to see her he ran off the porch, ran to her, jumped at her and just scrambled all the way up til he was on top of her head. Like a squirrel running up a tree. Still not sure how he accomplished that!
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