Dog Tales

[Tremayne]

Share the antics, accidents and accomplishments of your canine companions, whether cute, clever, or thoroughly aggravating.

[Welsh Wench]

This is one about my first German Shepherd--Rommel.

We had gone out one night and Rommel had decided to treat himself to a 13x9 cake left on the countertop.
When we got home, the cake pan was on the floor and the dog was nowhere in sight.
We heard the tap-tap-tap of his claws in the bathtub.
He knew he was in trouble.

My husband pulled the shower curtain back and the dog bared his teeth and let out a
'GRRRRRR!!!!'
He pulled the shower curtain back and slowly backed out of the bathroom.

Turns out the dog was on a sugar high and we had to wait till he came back to earth.

[Lady Mikayla of Phoenicia]

Oh my gosh, I can't wait to see all the stories on this thread. 

Ok so I'll go... several years ago I was very hungover.  One of my then Italian Greyhounds asked to go potty and I told him in a minute, I felt a warm sensation and then... "oh shizzle, my dogs peeing on me!"     Yes, my dog really did pee on me in bed. 

[DonaCatalina]

We had a Bulldog named Belle. She really really loved playing with the water hose or just splashing
around in her baby pool.
But she loved the water hose so much that my husband had to start locking her out of the bathroom when he was in there.

*yepper*

[Lady Nicolette]

My mother had been on the road with my father for a few months and came back without him.  It was right near my 7th birth day and she had brought along a puppy for me.  The puppy was half coyote and half German Shepherd.  Her name was Cotton, and my mother dubbed all of the stories that arose around her "Cotton Tales." 

Cotton was incredibly savvy...She easily learned a volume of tricks and was the only dog I've ever had that could run with you while you were on a bicycle on a leash without causing any difficulty.  She would take notes to my mother when I was sick that I would clip to her collar, telling her to "go find mama."  If Cotton didn't like someone, you knew they weren't to be trusted and she once refused to let a friend in through the window of our house when he lost the key while he was staying with us, even though she quite approved of him at all other times.

One of the oddest (and coyote-ish) things she ever did, follows.  In those days, we had milk and eggs delivered by the milkman.  We also had a bread truck delivery in town, by the way.  This would have been about 1966 or 1967.  They would leave your order for you on your front porch every few days.   One morning, we'd let Cotton out into the front yard in the early morning.  She scratched at the door to be let back in and when I opened it, I saw that she'd taken a whole dozen eggs out of the egg carton that the milkman had left and set them very carefully on the doormat.  Not one was broken.  I assume it was her instinct to bring eggs back to puppies in the den, as coyotes are known to do. 

Cotton died in 1979 and is buried on my old property up in O'Brien, OR.  I still have her collar and name tag and we still tell Cotton Tales in my house.

[Ferret]

My little dog Auggie is the source of fun. Not a lick of sense. And probably the dumbest dog on the planet, you all but have to remind her to breathe. She is real cute and lovable.

Most of her joy came from my ex. Ira came home at noon one day and let Auggie out, Auggie came back dragging something bigger than her and ran under the bed with it, Ira had to dig it out, turned out to be a frozen squirrel, Auggie thought she'd found the motherlode. Ira threw it out in the yard and it was mine to deal with.

One day the male cat ran across the living room and jumped as high as he could and hung on the drapes, Auggie was in hot pursuit, and jumped up and grabbed onto him. The loud crash was the last of our drapes. Auggie could out run and out jump the cats, and the drapes went first.

One day my wife was sitting on the couch having dinner and watching Friends. The male cat ran across her lap, Auggie right behind. Auggie dropped a log on my wife's leg. Ira called me at work all mad, she didn't know Auggie could go on the fly ( neither did I ) and she didn't know they were hot. I pointed out the dog is 100 degrees, they don't come out cold.

The best though was when Ira called me, she was home from work, had a bad day and I was not to call her for at least two hours, no matter what. About five minutes later she called to let me know there was a commotion. She was having a bubble bath. Female cat disappeared. Male cat was sitting on the end of the tub. Auggie came in and started barking. She shooed her away. Auggie returned with her favorite squeaker ball. And started squeaking it. Then Auggie jumped up by the side of the tub, and dropped her squeaker ball in the water. She started jumping trying to get it out of the water. Auggie knocked the cat upside down into the water on my wife. The cat started clawing in all directions and tore up my wife's legs pretty good, jumped out of the tub and ran through the house. My wife was worried the cat would start licking the soap off and get sick so she stark naked, covered with bubbles, and bleeding like a stuck pig chased through the house to get the cat and clean him off. Then she called me to yell at me as this was all my fault. I asked her since she didn't want to be disturbed why she didn't leave the pets outside the bathroom and close the door. She screamed at me that they would scratch at the door. I said yes, leaving the door open was better than having them scratch at the door. She hung up on me.

Things worked out though. Still have my lovable little Auggie, and the ex is long gone.
Ferret

[Manwariel]

My rat terrier/beagle mix ate almost half a dozen bratwursts one day that were sitting on the table. We don't leave the chairs pulled out anymore when there's food on the table 

Whenever someone shines a laser pointer on the floor, she chases it and tries to eat it (she bites the carpet).

I have a friend who taught her sister's dog to open the door and let itself out, and to shut the door when it comes back in. When I was at my friend's house, the dog went out and their other dog was inside. The other dog scratched at the door, and the one outside let it out.

[Lady Nicolette]

Great stories, everyone!  Dogs have such personalities.  I love that they are one animal that seems to be able to have a great sense of humor, even at their own expense.

[DonaCatalina]

Belle the bulldog also loved ink pens. If you left an ink pen anywhere below kitchen counter height, she found a way to get it. Then there was Ada the Doberman who liked to play tattle tale.
Many times Ada would come find me at the sewing machine and whine until I followed her to see what Belle was doing.
The funniest time was when Ada came around the corner to tell on Belle, and when I got up to check, I had to laugh so hard I couldn't scold her.

60 Pound bulldog up on the table with a pen hanging out each side of her mouth like two cigarettes.

[Charlotte Rowan]

This is a great thread!

My dog wants to be involved in any kissing that goes on in our house. More than once, my fiance and I have been on the couch smooching, and Trip has come up and got his nose and tongue right in there. 

He's also fascinated with caffeinated beverages, for some reason. When we drink coffee or my fiance drinks Red Bull, Trip is always trying to lick the cup/can to get at it. The other day, he finally succeeded in getting a lap out of my coffee cup when I wasn't paying attention.

[BLAKDUKE]

Great thread, I fully predict here and now that this thread will eventually become the most popular.
I may have posted this elsewhere but do not remember where, so here goes. 
We have a heinz-57 dog(a mutt).  Well over the years she would ride with us every where and before she developed pancreatitis, she would eat where and when we ate, so it was not usual for us to stop at Wendys and get burgers and fries for us AND HER at the drive up window.  You know the scene, pull up to the menu, make your selections, go to the window and pay for the food, get change and receipt, get the food bag and drive off to eat.    We were on vacation in N.C. for the purpose of going to the N.C. faire and we were camped in Denver, N.C. for the week on vacation.  One night we were finishing up our days travel and I noticed that I was a little short of cash so I pulled into a bank with an ATM.  I pulled out the card and did all of the things that I needed to do.  I finished up and took my cash, card, and receipt and started to drive away when the dog started to bark.  I stopped and looked around thinking maybe she spotted another dog(she literally hates anything in fur).  Seeing nothing I started to pull away again and she started barking again and looking back at the ATM station.   I looked at my wife and she looked at me, we both looked at the dog and burst out laughing.  The dog was quite literally telling us that we forgot the food.  I had gotten my change and receipt but I left the food at the window.   We have cracked a rib every time we think about that.

[Lady Nicolette]

Nothing like dog antics to make you laugh!

[Taffy Saltwater]

My Pom Zippo (bless his little pea-picking heart) was just as mean as cat pee, but psychotically so.  He would get time outs to the kitchen on a regular basis.  "Zippo, KITCHEN" & he'd run into the kitchen, snapping, snarling, looking over his shoulder to see if we really meant it.  After a while, he'd come out to see if things were cool.

My son got a big kick out of entertaining his friends w/a "Zippo, KITCHEN".

[Lady Nicolette]

Song sung when any of my dogs acts oddly since the song came out (inspired by your story of Zippo, Taffy):

"Psycho doggie. Quest que cest. Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better. Run run run run run run run away ..."

Most dogs seem to have at least one neurotic behavior, no matter who they are.  My present dog, Beau, has many.  I'm sure that dog-spelled-backwards-is-god sent him to me just because I wouldn't send him away. 

Beau will only eat or drink from one spot in the kitchen.  A sort of very inconvenient central spot.  When doing either one, he stretches his entire body out as far as it possibly can go before stealthily dipping his head into whichever bowl he's got designs on.  If it's food he's after, he'll often do sort of a strange head maneuver over the food, dipping, swaying and circling the bowl many times with his snout before ever picking up a bite.  Then he'll grab a bite of food, rush frantically away from the bowl and deposit it elsewhere in the house and eat each piece one at a time.  With all of this ritual surrounding his food and water, you'd think that he'd be food aggressive.  He's not in the least.  You can take the most succulent morsel from him with no trouble whatsoever.  On the other hand, if a school bus or a large truck drives by or a delivery person is at the side door of the house, you don't dare get anywhere near him...He's passionately involved in being in what Cesar Millan calls a "red zone," where he will turn around and bite even me if I so much as approach him during these times. 

[Tipsy Gypsy]

Milord and I are thoroughly convinced that God does not send us "normal" dogs. And just as well, we'd bore each other to death!

Our boy, Rowdy, is Lab/Shepherd(?)/Collie(?)/who-knows-wtf mix. When he was about 3 years old, milord called me urgently to the patio to witness Rowdy alternately pacing around in restless circles, his favorite "squeaky" in his mouth, putting it down and attempting to squeak it by pressing on it with the front of his teeth, and when it made a pathetic wheeze instead, picked it up again. We looked at each other incredulously and said "He's telling us his squeaky is broke!" He took some comfort in our reassurance that we'd buy him a new one the very next day, and true to my word, I headed to the pet store the following morning. The kid working the counter seemed a little disturbed at the crazy lady squeaking all the toys until one produced the right sound, but I bore my prize home and nervously but eagerly presented Rowdy with my offering. His ears perked up, his eyes lit, and he siezed it eagerly, promptly putting it on the patio and smashing it. SQUEEE!! His furry face beaming, he snatched the toy up in his teeth and joyfully pranced around the patio with his squeaky, waving his "happy-flag" tail, as we breathed a sigh of relief that he was pleased. 


Our baby girl, Cassidy, is half Great Pyrenees, half whatever the neighborhood romeo was. She has no discernible imagination at all, but she's quite perceptive, and all heart. She's appointed herself my guardian angel, and takes her job very seriously. Until hurricane Rita, she never wanted more than a minute of cuddle time in our bed before she was satified and ready to bound off to her own. The night Rita made landfall, the campus where we work was turned into evacuation for special needs folks, and milord had to work overnight to help keep facilities running. Cass jumped into bed with me, and instead of a brief flop, curled up on the foot of the bed on his side, and stayed there- all night. When I told him about it the next morning, he remarked "She never wants to do that; she was protecting you!". That's my girl .