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View Full Version : A warning for owners of Labs, Goldens, and other Bigdumbdogs



zoombwaz
09-30-2009, 01:54 PM
I have a theory about intelligence (or lack thereof) in retrievers. Let me state unequivocally from the outset that I love Labradors, Golden Retrievers, and lab mixes. I've had a series of retrievers, and unbridled exuberance and its cousin, unfocused enthusiasm (as in, "I'M ENTHUSIASTIC!! ABOUT WHAT? WHADDAYA GOT?”) are the best terms to describe their behavior. I had a golden retriever/yellow lab mix named Callie, who used to do this odd little dance around things that made her happy, including her rawhide Cheweez. which she would throw across the room, then dance around it: lunge in, shake head, jump back, step to the side, repeat. Hysterical. My first retriever, Jason, was a purebred black lab from grand field champion stock, the kind who look like beer kegs with legs and have a big square head with a brain the size of a le Seur pea rattling around inside. I should have named him Bullwinkle, because everybody who saw him pointed in mock horror, and exclaimed, "MOOSE!" Jason was 160 pounds of solid muscle unguided by any intellect.

A friend of mine, also a black lab owner, theorized that continual proximity to labs made their owners more and more stupid, as the dogs are so goofy, they suck the IQ points right out of one's head. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why the dog didn't get any smarter. I suggested that the black lab's head was to intelligence what a black hole is to mass and energy, where the intense tidal forces from the collapsed red giant star can bend the path of light, can capture any light beam or solid object that crosses its event horizon, and can absorb an infinite amount of energy and mass.

Similar to the black hole, the black lab's head is such a perfect intellectual vacuum that it can absorb an infinite amount of intellect from those humans near it, without becoming itself more intelligent. Naturally, since the owner is in closer proximity to the dog's intellectual event horizon than the casual participant, and for far longer periods of time, he or she bears the brunt of the mentally debilitating effects. As anecdotal evidence of the theory's validity, I offer the following cautionary tale of Labrador idiocy, and yes, I know that’s redundant.


My brother Pete and i took Jason to Eldorado Canyon State Park in Colorado for an afternoon of Labrador quality time, which of course requires little more than water and something to fetch. There is a strict leash law in Colorado, such that any dog off-leash in open rangeland can legally be shot by the rancher, but the definition of what constitutes a leash is less strictly enforced. Technically, it's supposed to be no longer than 6', but we had the Moose on a 1/2" x 30' polypropylene rope and called it good. We took him up the creek, found a nice deep pool, and started throwing rocks in the pool for him to fetch. “Happy dog, happy dog. Here's your rock, boss Throw it again, c'mon, c'mon, C'MON!!” We gradually increased the size of the rocks we were throwing in, until Pete heaved one that was too big for Jason to pick up into the deepest part of the pool. He dove in after it, but couldn't pick it up, even after repeated attempts with only his hips and tail out of the water, so he got mad at the rock (duh). and started barking at it. With his head and most of his body underwater. Barking underwater. These BIG bubbles would break the surface of the water, then the big, square head would pop up, take a deep breath, and go back down to bark some more. More BIG bubbles. Pete and I were in hysterics, and he was barely able to gasp out, "Rick, your dog is really stupid." We finally stopped laughing and dragged him out with the rope before he drowned himself, and threw a stick down the trail back to the parking lot. Evil rock was forgotten immediately. “Oboyoboyoboy, A STICK!! Happy dog, happy dog.” Once back in the parking lot,we saw the lot was about ¾ full and filling slowly. Since there wasn’t anybody giving us the hairy eyeball over our parking space, we decided to have a beer before we drove home, so we tied the end of Jason’s rope to the front bumper of Pete's Toyota pick up, cracked a couple of cold ones, and sat on the hood of the truck, watching the happy dog saying hi to all his newest best friends in the world, EVER!! At this juncture, with the moose as far away to the left as his 30' of rope would allow, a car pulled in across the dirt parking lot and about 40 feet to the right. This somewhat effeminate guy got out, and put his little foo-foo dog on the ground next to his car and clipped the dog's leash to her collar. Pete and I looked at each other, said "Uh-oh" in unison, and looked to see where Jason was, just in time to see him barreling past the pickup at full speed, running to say hi to Foo-Foo, his newest best friend in the world, EVER!! Pete said, "this is gonna be ugly..." and just as he said "ugly," 160 pounds of unguided muscle hit the end of his rope at full tilt boogie...


The big square head snapped down, as the rope stopped Jason dead in his tracks, but the ass-end kept right on going, up and over the suddenly stationary big square head, and landed on its back in the dirt parking lot, raising a cloud of dust at the impact crater, and jerked the rope so hard, the front of the pickup lurched violently a foot to the right, and caused Pete and I, who were not at all prepared for said sudden lurch to the right, to fall to the left, off the hood of the truck, each landing on his back, spilling his beer on himself, and Foo-Foo, in mortal fear for her life, peed on her owner's shoe and pants leg.

A moment of silence as the dust settled around the stunned moose lying on his back, and the beer soaked into the stunned brothers lying on theirs, and the stunned crowd in the parking lot surveyed the carnage, followed by an explosion of hysterical laughter. All the witnesses to this idiocy were laughing uncontrollably, the principles, not so much. Pete looked over at me and said. "Rick, your dog is really stupid," at which point Jason arrived, having already shaken off his crash and burn, and was delighted to find his two favorite best friends in the world, EVER! lying on their backs at his level, which of course means, “THEY MUST WANT KISSES!! OBOYOBOYOBOY!” I scrambled to my feet, narrowly avoiding Pete's fate, lying flat on his back, helpless, as 160 pounds of HAPPY LAB stood on his beer-soaked chest and gave him lots of slobbery kisses, while he yelled, "Get this big shit off of me!" More hysterical laughter from the assembled multitude, this time including me...

Cancel5
09-30-2009, 01:56 PM
I have a theory about intelligence (or lack thereof) in retrievers. Let me state unequivocally from the outset that I love Labradors, Golden Retrievers, and lab mixes. I've had a series of retrievers, and unbridled exuberance and its cousin, unfocused enthusiasm (as in, "I'M ENTHUSIASTIC!! ABOUT WHAT? WHADDAYA GOT?”) are the best terms to describe their behavior. I had a golden retriever/yellow lab mix named Callie, who used to do this odd little dance around things that made her happy, including her rawhide Cheweez. which she would throw across the room, then dance around it: lunge in, shake head, jump back, step to the side, repeat. Hysterical. My first retriever, Jason, was a purebred black lab from grand field champion stock, the kind who look like beer kegs with legs and have a big square head with a brain the size of a le Seur pea rattling around inside. I should have named him Bullwinkle, because everybody who saw him pointed in mock horror, and exclaimed, "MOOSE!" Jason was 160 pounds of solid muscle unguided by any intellect.

A friend of mine, also a black lab owner, theorized that continual proximity to labs made their owners more and more stupid, as the dogs are so goofy, they suck the IQ points right out of one's head. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why the dog didn't get any smarter. I suggested that the black lab's head was to intelligence what a black hole is to mass and energy, where the intense tidal forces from the collapsed red giant star can bend the path of light, can capture any light beam or solid object that crosses its event horizon, and can absorb an infinite amount of energy and mass.

Similar to the black hole, the black lab's head is such a perfect intellectual vacuum that it can absorb an infinite amount of intellect from those humans near it, without becoming itself more intelligent. Naturally, since the owner is in closer proximity to the dog's intellectual event horizon than the casual participant, and for far longer periods of time, he or she bears the brunt of the mentally debilitating effects. As anecdotal evidence of the theory's validity, I offer the following cautionary tale of Labrador idiocy, and yes, I know that’s redundant.


My brother Pete and i took Jason to Eldorado Canyon State Park in Colorado for an afternoon of Labrador quality time, which of course requires little more than water and something to fetch. There is a strict leash law in Colorado, such that any dog off-leash in open rangeland can legally be shot by the rancher, but the definition of what constitutes a leash is less strictly enforced. Technically, it's supposed to be no longer than 6', but we had the Moose on a 1/2" x 30' polypropylene rope and called it good. We took him up the creek, found a nice deep pool, and started throwing rocks in the pool for him to fetch. “Happy dog, happy dog. Here's your rock, boss Throw it again, c'mon, c'mon, C'MON!!” We gradually increased the size of the rocks we were throwing in, until Pete heaved one that was too big for Jason to pick up into the deepest part of the pool. He dove in after it, but couldn't pick it up, even after repeated attempts with only his hips and tail out of the water, so he got mad at the rock (duh). and started barking at it. With his head and most of his body underwater. Barking underwater. These BIG bubbles would break the surface of the water, then the big, square head would pop up, take a deep breath, and go back down to bark some more. More BIG bubbles. Pete and I were in hysterics, and he was barely able to gasp out, "Rick, your dog is really stupid." We finally stopped laughing and dragged him out with the rope before he drowned himself, and threw a stick down the trail back to the parking lot. Evil rock was forgotten immediately. “Oboyoboyoboy, A STICK!! Happy dog, happy dog.” Once back in the parking lot,we saw the lot was about ¾ full and filling slowly. Since there wasn’t anybody giving us the hairy eyeball over our parking space, we decided to have a beer before we drove home, so we tied the end of Jason’s rope to the front bumper of Pete's Toyota pick up, cracked a couple of cold ones, and sat on the hood of the truck, watching the happy dog saying hi to all his newest best friends in the world, EVER!! At this juncture, with the moose as far away to the left as his 30' of rope would allow, a car pulled in across the dirt parking lot and about 40 feet to the right. This somewhat effeminate guy got out, and put his little foo-foo dog on the ground next to his car and clipped the dog's leash to her collar. Pete and I looked at each other, said "Uh-oh" in unison, and looked to see where Jason was, just in time to see him barreling past the pickup at full speed, running to say hi to Foo-Foo, his newest best friend in the world, EVER!! Pete said, "this is gonna be ugly..." and just as he said "ugly," 160 pounds of unguided muscle hit the end of his rope at full tilt boogie...


The big square head snapped down, as the rope stopped Jason dead in his tracks, but the ass-end kept right on going, up and over the suddenly stationary big square head, and landed on its back in the dirt parking lot, raising a cloud of dust at the impact crater, and jerked the rope so hard, the front of the pickup lurched violently a foot to the right, and caused Pete and I, who were not at all prepared for said sudden lurch to the right, to fall to the left, off the hood of the truck, each landing on his back, spilling his beer on himself, and Foo-Foo, in mortal fear for her life, peed on her owner's shoe and pants leg.

A moment of silence as the dust settled around the stunned moose lying on his back, and the beer soaked into the stunned brothers lying on theirs, and the stunned crowd in the parking lot surveyed the carnage, followed by an explosion of hysterical laughter. All the witnesses to this idiocy were laughing uncontrollably, the principles, not so much. Pete looked over at me and said. "Rick, your dog is really stupid," at which point Jason arrived, having already shaken off his crash and burn, and was delighted to find his two favorite best friends in the world, EVER! lying on their backs at his level, which of course means, “THEY MUST WANT KISSES!! OBOYOBOYOBOY!” I scrambled to my feet, narrowly avoiding Pete's fate, lying flat on his back, helpless, as 160 pounds of HAPPY LAB stood on his beer-soaked chest and gave him lots of slobbery kisses, while he yelled, "Get this big shit off of me!" More hysterical laughter from the assembled multitude, this time including me...
Have you sent this in, yet? Have you heard from Jumbo. lately? How about Telstar?

Thorn
09-30-2009, 02:48 PM
That's pretty funny. I grew up in the country with a big black Lab named Buster. He went everywhere with me, always walked between me and the road, nearly sending me into the ditch, and basically kept me out of whatever trouble I might otherwise found myself doing. He was extremely protective of us, yet seemed to have a sixth sense as to who was a good person. He was my best pal, and I don't remember any silliness on his part at all.

Now I have a friend who has two Labs who are friendly and energetic and lots of fun. I've moved on to the herding group, but still have a very very soft spot in my heart for the big Labs.

christiefan915
09-30-2009, 05:59 PM
I have a theory about intelligence (or lack thereof) in retrievers. Let me state unequivocally from the outset that I love Labradors, Golden Retrievers, and lab mixes. I've had a series of retrievers, and unbridled exuberance and its cousin, unfocused enthusiasm (as in, "I'M ENTHUSIASTIC!! ABOUT WHAT? WHADDAYA GOT?”) are the best terms to describe their behavior. I had a golden retriever/yellow lab mix named Callie, who used to do this odd little dance around things that made her happy, including her rawhide Cheweez. which she would throw across the room, then dance around it: lunge in, shake head, jump back, step to the side, repeat. Hysterical. My first retriever, Jason, was a purebred black lab from grand field champion stock, the kind who look like beer kegs with legs and have a big square head with a brain the size of a le Seur pea rattling around inside. I should have named him Bullwinkle, because everybody who saw him pointed in mock horror, and exclaimed, "MOOSE!" Jason was 160 pounds of solid muscle unguided by any intellect.

A friend of mine, also a black lab owner, theorized that continual proximity to labs made their owners more and more stupid, as the dogs are so goofy, they suck the IQ points right out of one's head. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why the dog didn't get any smarter. I suggested that the black lab's head was to intelligence what a black hole is to mass and energy, where the intense tidal forces from the collapsed red giant star can bend the path of light, can capture any light beam or solid object that crosses its event horizon, and can absorb an infinite amount of energy and mass.

Similar to the black hole, the black lab's head is such a perfect intellectual vacuum that it can absorb an infinite amount of intellect from those humans near it, without becoming itself more intelligent. Naturally, since the owner is in closer proximity to the dog's intellectual event horizon than the casual participant, and for far longer periods of time, he or she bears the brunt of the mentally debilitating effects. As anecdotal evidence of the theory's validity, I offer the following cautionary tale of Labrador idiocy, and yes, I know that’s redundant.


My brother Pete and i took Jason to Eldorado Canyon State Park in Colorado for an afternoon of Labrador quality time, which of course requires little more than water and something to fetch. There is a strict leash law in Colorado, such that any dog off-leash in open rangeland can legally be shot by the rancher, but the definition of what constitutes a leash is less strictly enforced. Technically, it's supposed to be no longer than 6', but we had the Moose on a 1/2" x 30' polypropylene rope and called it good. We took him up the creek, found a nice deep pool, and started throwing rocks in the pool for him to fetch. “Happy dog, happy dog. Here's your rock, boss Throw it again, c'mon, c'mon, C'MON!!” We gradually increased the size of the rocks we were throwing in, until Pete heaved one that was too big for Jason to pick up into the deepest part of the pool. He dove in after it, but couldn't pick it up, even after repeated attempts with only his hips and tail out of the water, so he got mad at the rock (duh). and started barking at it. With his head and most of his body underwater. Barking underwater. These BIG bubbles would break the surface of the water, then the big, square head would pop up, take a deep breath, and go back down to bark some more. More BIG bubbles. Pete and I were in hysterics, and he was barely able to gasp out, "Rick, your dog is really stupid." We finally stopped laughing and dragged him out with the rope before he drowned himself, and threw a stick down the trail back to the parking lot. Evil rock was forgotten immediately. “Oboyoboyoboy, A STICK!! Happy dog, happy dog.” Once back in the parking lot,we saw the lot was about ¾ full and filling slowly. Since there wasn’t anybody giving us the hairy eyeball over our parking space, we decided to have a beer before we drove home, so we tied the end of Jason’s rope to the front bumper of Pete's Toyota pick up, cracked a couple of cold ones, and sat on the hood of the truck, watching the happy dog saying hi to all his newest best friends in the world, EVER!! At this juncture, with the moose as far away to the left as his 30' of rope would allow, a car pulled in across the dirt parking lot and about 40 feet to the right. This somewhat effeminate guy got out, and put his little foo-foo dog on the ground next to his car and clipped the dog's leash to her collar. Pete and I looked at each other, said "Uh-oh" in unison, and looked to see where Jason was, just in time to see him barreling past the pickup at full speed, running to say hi to Foo-Foo, his newest best friend in the world, EVER!! Pete said, "this is gonna be ugly..." and just as he said "ugly," 160 pounds of unguided muscle hit the end of his rope at full tilt boogie...


The big square head snapped down, as the rope stopped Jason dead in his tracks, but the ass-end kept right on going, up and over the suddenly stationary big square head, and landed on its back in the dirt parking lot, raising a cloud of dust at the impact crater, and jerked the rope so hard, the front of the pickup lurched violently a foot to the right, and caused Pete and I, who were not at all prepared for said sudden lurch to the right, to fall to the left, off the hood of the truck, each landing on his back, spilling his beer on himself, and Foo-Foo, in mortal fear for her life, peed on her owner's shoe and pants leg.

A moment of silence as the dust settled around the stunned moose lying on his back, and the beer soaked into the stunned brothers lying on theirs, and the stunned crowd in the parking lot surveyed the carnage, followed by an explosion of hysterical laughter. All the witnesses to this idiocy were laughing uncontrollably, the principles, not so much. Pete looked over at me and said. "Rick, your dog is really stupid," at which point Jason arrived, having already shaken off his crash and burn, and was delighted to find his two favorite best friends in the world, EVER! lying on their backs at his level, which of course means, “THEY MUST WANT KISSES!! OBOYOBOYOBOY!” I scrambled to my feet, narrowly avoiding Pete's fate, lying flat on his back, helpless, as 160 pounds of HAPPY LAB stood on his beer-soaked chest and gave him lots of slobbery kisses, while he yelled, "Get this big shit off of me!" More hysterical laughter from the assembled multitude, this time including me...

That's hilarious. It must be in their genes. Jason sounds like the dog (a golden retriever) in Marley and Me.

Minister of Truth
09-30-2009, 08:36 PM
I have never owned a dog, but if I were to ever get one, I think Golden Retrievers are pretty cool guys.

Thorn
09-30-2009, 08:55 PM
I have never owned a dog, but if I were to ever get one, I think Golden Retrievers are pretty cool guys.

They are a wonderful breed. Smart, affectionate, energetic, and biddable if you want to train. If you decide to go that way, make sure that the grandparents are still living. Several lines of Goldens have a vulnerability to cancer. A friend of mine so sadly just lost two of his wonderful Goldens to cancers within the past two years. If you have one without this vulnerability, though, you'll have a wonderful friend for nearly 15 years.

DamnYankee
09-30-2009, 09:15 PM
My sister had a Lab-Shepard mix, the son of an earlier dog, but it looked all lab, solid black and weighed at least 140. It wasn't so dumb though and was a good protector of the family. When they moved to Virginia from Maine her husband was busy at work and one of the movers started giving her a hard time. She was all alone with 5 kids. "Barney" sensed something was up and leaped over a 4' fence like it was a curb, got between sis and the perp and just glared at him. Needless to say he furniture got moved in without a scratch.

I used to wrestle with the dog and could not pin him. One winter I was visiting them in Maine and it was a dry winter- no snow at all. They lived on a lake and I brought my skates with me and literally skated miles that weekend. Barney followed along with me for as much as he could but I had a distinct advantage in speed and grip on the ice. I tired him out and was finally able to show him who was boss and pinned him on the ice in the middle of that big lake. He was still in good humor after that proving himself was a fine friend.

They had to kennel him during a vacation trip and poor Barney thought he was abandoned I suppose, because he died of a broken heart, age 8.

uscitizen
09-30-2009, 10:44 PM
The most important thing is that people take proper care of their dogs. Keep them from being a problem to others and such.

I shot a woman down the roads HUGE white german sheperd. I was sitting out back it came by chasing one of my cats I yelled at it and it growled at me so dead dog.
She told me she paid $500 for the dog. I told here I was sorry but she should have protected her investment better.

In KY you are allowed to shoot any dog that comes on your property and threatens or causes damage. My county also has a leash law.

DamnYankee
10-01-2009, 08:30 AM
What a sick bastard.

zoombwaz
10-01-2009, 08:43 AM
My sister had a Lab-Shepard mix, the son of an earlier dog, but it looked all lab, solid black and weighed at least 140. It wasn't so dumb though and was a good protector of the family. When they moved to Virginia from Maine her husband was busy at work and one of the movers started giving her a hard time. She was all alone with 5 kids. "Barney" sensed something was up and leaped over a 4' fence like it was a curb, got between sis and the perp and just glared at him. Needless to say he furniture got moved in without a scratch.

I used to wrestle with the dog and could not pin him. One winter I was visiting them in Maine and it was a dry winter- no snow at all. They lived on a lake and I brought my skates with me and literally skated miles that weekend. Barney followed along with me for as much as he could but I had a distinct advantage in speed and grip on the ice. I tired him out and was finally able to show him who was boss and pinned him on the ice in the middle of that big lake. He was still in good humor after that proving himself was a fine friend.

They had to kennel him during a vacation trip and poor Barney thought he was abandoned I suppose, because he died of a broken heart, age 8.


Oh, sure. Make me cry. There's no doubt in my mind that Barney died of a broken heart.

I lost Jason to diabetes when he was 12, and I felt like i'd lost a brother. I use the term Bigdumbdog with a lot of affection and tongue firmly in cheek, like Pete uses the term Annoyingdog to describe the three Goldens he has had (and in fact was in PetSmart, wondering out loudwhere the Annoyingdog food was, and a lady down the aisle asked him how many goldens he had. I asked how she knew he had a golden, and she said, "from the 'Annoyingdog'. I have six."). Pete and i knew Jason was really a smart dog getting over on us by playing dumb, but we felt he would be bummed if he knew we knew, so we played along. He was also loyal, very protective of my daughter Erika, who absolutely adored him, and he would put up with no end of physical mauling from Erika and her cousins. He had a couple of run-ins with the dog catcher in the small town in Colorado where we lived, and the first time, I had to bail this very sad-faced dog out of the kennel, but the second time, the animal control officer called me when i got home from work, told me he had Jason but said there would be no fine, because he saw some of the "rotten little bastards" (his words) from the neighborhood let Jason out of the fenced back yard via the alley gate, so it wasn't my fault. I asked if he had any trouble catching him, and he laughed and said, "Hell, I didn't even have to get out of my truck. I just leaned over, opened the passenger door, and yelled, 'Jason! Go for a ride in the truck?' He was in the cab in about half a second, and rode with me the rest of the day. He's sleeping under my desk right now."

"I'll be right down."

"Take your time. There's no hurry...he's good company."


But as cool as Jason was, and I could go on forever with stories about him, like running around with a "stick" in his mouth (the quotes are because the "stick" in question was a 5' log about 3" in diameter) and tried to run full speed between two trees 3' apart. Stopped him cold. He dropped the stick, shook his headhttp://www.nonstick.com/wsounds/shakeup.mp3, picked up the stick and tried it again at low speed, his successor, Callie, a yellow lab/golden mix, was convinced that the world loved her, and since she was determined to love it right back, the whole world did end up loving her. When we had to have her put down when her kidneys failed, the vet and his whole staff were in tears. When i called Pete to tell him, we both cried, and i'm tearing up as we speak.

uscitizen
10-01-2009, 10:40 AM
What a sick bastard.


No the sick bastards are the ones who do not properly care for their pets and animals. Especially those who treat pets as disposable toys to be discarded when they fail to amuse their owners.

I live out in the country where many from the city come to dump their unwanted animals off...

Mott the Hoople
10-01-2009, 11:18 AM
I have a theory about intelligence (or lack thereof) in retrievers. Let me state unequivocally from the outset that I love Labradors, Golden Retrievers, and lab mixes. I've had a series of retrievers, and unbridled exuberance and its cousin, unfocused enthusiasm (as in, "I'M ENTHUSIASTIC!! ABOUT WHAT? WHADDAYA GOT?”) are the best terms to describe their behavior. I had a golden retriever/yellow lab mix named Callie, who used to do this odd little dance around things that made her happy, including her rawhide Cheweez. which she would throw across the room, then dance around it: lunge in, shake head, jump back, step to the side, repeat. Hysterical. My first retriever, Jason, was a purebred black lab from grand field champion stock, the kind who look like beer kegs with legs and have a big square head with a brain the size of a le Seur pea rattling around inside. I should have named him Bullwinkle, because everybody who saw him pointed in mock horror, and exclaimed, "MOOSE!" Jason was 160 pounds of solid muscle unguided by any intellect.

A friend of mine, also a black lab owner, theorized that continual proximity to labs made their owners more and more stupid, as the dogs are so goofy, they suck the IQ points right out of one's head. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why the dog didn't get any smarter. I suggested that the black lab's head was to intelligence what a black hole is to mass and energy, where the intense tidal forces from the collapsed red giant star can bend the path of light, can capture any light beam or solid object that crosses its event horizon, and can absorb an infinite amount of energy and mass.

Similar to the black hole, the black lab's head is such a perfect intellectual vacuum that it can absorb an infinite amount of intellect from those humans near it, without becoming itself more intelligent. Naturally, since the owner is in closer proximity to the dog's intellectual event horizon than the casual participant, and for far longer periods of time, he or she bears the brunt of the mentally debilitating effects. As anecdotal evidence of the theory's validity, I offer the following cautionary tale of Labrador idiocy, and yes, I know that’s redundant.


My brother Pete and i took Jason to Eldorado Canyon State Park in Colorado for an afternoon of Labrador quality time, which of course requires little more than water and something to fetch. There is a strict leash law in Colorado, such that any dog off-leash in open rangeland can legally be shot by the rancher, but the definition of what constitutes a leash is less strictly enforced. Technically, it's supposed to be no longer than 6', but we had the Moose on a 1/2" x 30' polypropylene rope and called it good. We took him up the creek, found a nice deep pool, and started throwing rocks in the pool for him to fetch. “Happy dog, happy dog. Here's your rock, boss Throw it again, c'mon, c'mon, C'MON!!” We gradually increased the size of the rocks we were throwing in, until Pete heaved one that was too big for Jason to pick up into the deepest part of the pool. He dove in after it, but couldn't pick it up, even after repeated attempts with only his hips and tail out of the water, so he got mad at the rock (duh). and started barking at it. With his head and most of his body underwater. Barking underwater. These BIG bubbles would break the surface of the water, then the big, square head would pop up, take a deep breath, and go back down to bark some more. More BIG bubbles. Pete and I were in hysterics, and he was barely able to gasp out, "Rick, your dog is really stupid." We finally stopped laughing and dragged him out with the rope before he drowned himself, and threw a stick down the trail back to the parking lot. Evil rock was forgotten immediately. “Oboyoboyoboy, A STICK!! Happy dog, happy dog.” Once back in the parking lot,we saw the lot was about ¾ full and filling slowly. Since there wasn’t anybody giving us the hairy eyeball over our parking space, we decided to have a beer before we drove home, so we tied the end of Jason’s rope to the front bumper of Pete's Toyota pick up, cracked a couple of cold ones, and sat on the hood of the truck, watching the happy dog saying hi to all his newest best friends in the world, EVER!! At this juncture, with the moose as far away to the left as his 30' of rope would allow, a car pulled in across the dirt parking lot and about 40 feet to the right. This somewhat effeminate guy got out, and put his little foo-foo dog on the ground next to his car and clipped the dog's leash to her collar. Pete and I looked at each other, said "Uh-oh" in unison, and looked to see where Jason was, just in time to see him barreling past the pickup at full speed, running to say hi to Foo-Foo, his newest best friend in the world, EVER!! Pete said, "this is gonna be ugly..." and just as he said "ugly," 160 pounds of unguided muscle hit the end of his rope at full tilt boogie...


The big square head snapped down, as the rope stopped Jason dead in his tracks, but the ass-end kept right on going, up and over the suddenly stationary big square head, and landed on its back in the dirt parking lot, raising a cloud of dust at the impact crater, and jerked the rope so hard, the front of the pickup lurched violently a foot to the right, and caused Pete and I, who were not at all prepared for said sudden lurch to the right, to fall to the left, off the hood of the truck, each landing on his back, spilling his beer on himself, and Foo-Foo, in mortal fear for her life, peed on her owner's shoe and pants leg.

A moment of silence as the dust settled around the stunned moose lying on his back, and the beer soaked into the stunned brothers lying on theirs, and the stunned crowd in the parking lot surveyed the carnage, followed by an explosion of hysterical laughter. All the witnesses to this idiocy were laughing uncontrollably, the principles, not so much. Pete looked over at me and said. "Rick, your dog is really stupid," at which point Jason arrived, having already shaken off his crash and burn, and was delighted to find his two favorite best friends in the world, EVER! lying on their backs at his level, which of course means, “THEY MUST WANT KISSES!! OBOYOBOYOBOY!” I scrambled to my feet, narrowly avoiding Pete's fate, lying flat on his back, helpless, as 160 pounds of HAPPY LAB stood on his beer-soaked chest and gave him lots of slobbery kisses, while he yelled, "Get this big shit off of me!" More hysterical laughter from the assembled multitude, this time including me...
Dude, There DOGS! None of them is ever going to win the Nobel Prize or earn tenure at Harvard.

My black lab (now deceased) was fairly bright and he had real focused enthusiasm for three things. Hunting, breeding, sleeping and eating for which he did all four exceptionally well. What's amazing is that dog taught me how to hunt.

Course I always treated my dog like a dog (and he liked it that way too). I mean, dogs like to roll in bear shit. Does that make them dumb? No, it makes them a dog!

Mott the Hoople
10-01-2009, 11:20 AM
The most important thing is that people take proper care of their dogs. Keep them from being a problem to others and such.

I shot a woman down the roads HUGE white german sheperd. I was sitting out back it came by chasing one of my cats I yelled at it and it growled at me so dead dog.
She told me she paid $500 for the dog. I told here I was sorry but she should have protected her investment better.

In KY you are allowed to shoot any dog that comes on your property and threatens or causes damage. My county also has a leash law.
Yea, I had a shepard that killed a neighbors sheep. Tore me up when I shot him.

zoombwaz
10-01-2009, 06:22 PM
Dude, There DOGS! None of them is ever going to win the Nobel Prize or earn tenure at Harvard.

My black lab (now deceased) was fairly bright and he had real focused enthusiasm for three things. Hunting, breeding, sleeping and eating for which he did all four exceptionally well. What's amazing is that dog taught me how to hunt.

Course I always treated my dog like a dog (and he liked it that way too). I mean, dogs like to roll in bear shit. Does that make them dumb? No, it makes them a dog!

Well, no shit. That's why I love retrievers. They're big, goofy, loyal, and happy. And they're a blast to be around I wrote that just for the hell of it about 6 months ago, and sent it to friends who had retrievers or other big, goofy dogs to give them a laugh. I never intended it as a serious treatise on canine intelligence. Mostly, I just felt like writing OBOYOBOYOBOY a bunch of times in honor of my best friends in the world EVER.

WinterBorn
10-01-2009, 08:05 PM
I had a golden that was smarter than some people I have worked with.

He wanted to be a mother to any tiny animal he found. He raised 1 child, 2 kittens, and 2 puppies. When my mother-in-law came to tell my wife that her cousin had died suddenly, my wife grabbed the door jam and sunk to the floor (they were very close). That old dog came over and put one paw on my wife's shoulder so gently that my mother-in-law still talks about it.

I could send him to any room in the house verbally. He knew what a pizza box looked like from across the yard. When I had to have him put down it was one of the worst days of my life. He was not only a smart dog, he was one of the most gentle, loving souls I have ever known. And I miss him to this day.

Dogs may not be the smartest animals out there. But they have the capacity to love unconditionally and the ability to teach us to do the same. Maybe smarts aren't all they are cracked up to be.

One of the reasons I admire Thorn is for her signature. Truly a noble goal.

uscitizen
10-01-2009, 08:06 PM
Yea, I had a shepard that killed a neighbors sheep. Tore me up when I shot him.

Damn, that was hard.

My sincere sympathy. Unlike some I do not like to kill any thing except perhaps mosquitoes.

zoombwaz
10-02-2009, 05:45 AM
I had a golden that was smarter than some people I have worked with.

He wanted to be a mother to any tiny animal he found. He raised 1 child, 2 kittens, and 2 puppies. When my mother-in-law came to tell my wife that her cousin had died suddenly, my wife grabbed the door jam and sunk to the floor (they were very close). That old dog came over and put one paw on my wife's shoulder so gently that my mother-in-law still talks about it.

I could send him to any room in the house verbally. He knew what a pizza box looked like from across the yard. When I had to have him put down it was one of the worst days of my life. He was not only a smart dog, he was one of the most gentle, loving souls I have ever known. And I miss him to this day.

Dogs may not be the smartest animals out there. But they have the capacity to love unconditionally and the ability to teach us to do the same. Maybe smarts aren't all they are cracked up to be.

One of the reasons I admire Thorn is for her signature. Truly a noble goal.


Agreed.

One of the reasons dog-fighting is so unforgiveable is that it is not only animal cruelty in general, but specifically is also nothing less than a betrayal of that unconditional love and loyalty we have bred into dogs for 16,000 years. Since we as a species have undertaken the elimination through selective breeding of a wild animal's natural wariness of humans, in order to develop a companion species. it is incumbent upon us not to take undue advantage of that unquestioning trust which we have engendered in that species.

On a lighter note, I was watching a program on the Animal Channel about training Labs as service dogs. One of the segments dealt with the absolute necessity that the service dog obey commands and not be distracted by any external stimulus not directly related to their job, and the test for that discipline they gave this group of retrievers was a real hoot. They led the group into the test area, gave the commands "down" and "stay," and then, cruelty of all cruelties to a Lab (or a Golden), they dumped a box of tennis balls out in front of the dogs. Every Lab's head shot up, every Lab's body stiffened with the stress of the internal battle raging within, every pair of eyes tracked the balls as they rolled past, but not one dog broke the "stay" command. I was mightily impressed, especially since my yellow Lab/golden mix had jumped to her feet when the box was dumped, pressed her nose to the TV screen, and was at first whimpering at the sight of all those tennis balls rolling free, then stepped back from the TV and began alternately "talking" to the TV and looking at me with this look of concern on her face (the furrowed brow, what Pete calls the "oh, we almost had a thought" look), apparently very unhappy with the failure of the dogs on the screen to perform their due diligence as regards basic tennis ball management.

WinterBorn
10-02-2009, 06:56 AM
Agreed.

One of the reasons dog-fighting is so unforgiveable is that it is not only animal cruelty in general, but specifically is also nothing less than a betrayal of that unconditional love and loyalty we have bred into dogs for 16,000 years. Since we as a species have undertaken the elimination through selective breeding of a wild animal's natural wariness of humans, in order to develop a companion species. it is incumbent upon us not to take undue advantage of that unquestioning trust which we have engendered in that species.

On a lighter note, I was watching a program on the Animal Channel about training Labs as service dogs. One of the segments dealt with the absolute necessity that the service dog obey commands and not be distracted by any external stimulus not directly related to their job, and the test for that discipline they gave this group of retrievers was a real hoot. They led the group into the test area, gave the commands "down" and "stay," and then, cruelty of all cruelties to a Lab (or a Golden), they dumped a box of tennis balls out in front of the dogs. Every Lab's head shot up, every Lab's body stiffened with the stress of the internal battle raging within, every pair of eyes tracked the balls as they rolled past, but not one dog broke the "stay" command. I was mightily impressed, especially since my yellow Lab/golden mix had jumped to her feet when the box was dumped, pressed her nose to the TV screen, and was at first whimpering at the sight of all those tennis balls rolling free, then stepped back from the TV and began alternately "talking" to the TV and looking at me with this look of concern on her face (the furrowed brow, what Pete calls the "oh, we almost had a thought" look), apparently very unhappy with the failure of the dogs on the screen to perform their due diligence as regards basic tennis ball management.

My golden was the rare exception concerning tennis balls. He was a rescue, and already had grey around his muzzle when we adopted him (or he adopted us). I bought a few tennis balls, thinking he would love to play, be he was completely uninterested. But if you rolled an orange accross the floor he would chase it like a puppy. The vet estimated he was around 9 or 10, so he was way passed his prime.

What ruined us was him being diagnosed as having heart worms. The treatment was as likely to kill him as the heartworms. I asked the vet how long he had before the heartworms would cause serious health issues. The vet told us that the heartworms were pretty advanced, so he figured 6 months to a year. Knowing that, we started spoiling him and giving him more treats to eat, sharing "people food" with him ect. 5 years later when we had to have him put down, he was an overweight, happy dog with advanced arthritus and liver problems.

Sorry, remembering that shaggy old beast gets me smiling and ready to tear up at the same time.

Thorn
10-02-2009, 10:32 AM
Agreed.

One of the reasons dog-fighting is so unforgiveable is that it is not only animal cruelty in general, but specifically is also nothing less than a betrayal of that unconditional love and loyalty we have bred into dogs for 16,000 years. Since we as a species have undertaken the elimination through selective breeding of a wild animal's natural wariness of humans, in order to develop a companion species. it is incumbent upon us not to take undue advantage of that unquestioning trust which we have engendered in that species.

On a lighter note, I was watching a program on the Animal Channel about training Labs as service dogs. One of the segments dealt with the absolute necessity that the service dog obey commands and not be distracted by any external stimulus not directly related to their job, and the test for that discipline they gave this group of retrievers was a real hoot. They led the group into the test area, gave the commands "down" and "stay," and then, cruelty of all cruelties to a Lab (or a Golden), they dumped a box of tennis balls out in front of the dogs. Every Lab's head shot up, every Lab's body stiffened with the stress of the internal battle raging within, every pair of eyes tracked the balls as they rolled past, but not one dog broke the "stay" command. I was mightily impressed, especially since my yellow Lab/golden mix had jumped to her feet when the box was dumped, pressed her nose to the TV screen, and was at first whimpering at the sight of all those tennis balls rolling free, then stepped back from the TV and began alternately "talking" to the TV and looking at me with this look of concern on her face (the furrowed brow, what Pete calls the "oh, we almost had a thought" look), apparently very unhappy with the failure of the dogs on the screen to perform their due diligence as regards basic tennis ball management.

Actually, in making them companions we simply are emphasizing something that is inherent in their natures, the "pack" mindset, with the alteration that the humans become the alphas rather than other dogs. You can see a reversion to the Pack, sadly, when people ignorantly release unwanted pets into the country and they form packs of their own, suspicious of humans. That is, assuming that they survive before this happens, but that's for another thread.

My Australian Shepherd, now four, has been "a lot of dog" since he was a puppy. With a lot of love, maturity and training he's finally becoming calmer. We went through the Canine Good Citizen program when he was about two. One of the tests was to place the dog in a sit-stay while the testers walked around bouncing tennis balls, squeaking toys, and shaking treats. Amazingly, my guy actually held his stay and earned a treat and a toy along with his CGC title. More recently I took him to a fun Match in competitive-level obedience; his CGC instructor didn't even recognize him because he was so well behaved. His hind end wriggled enough to make a milkshake, but he didn't jump up and was fantastic in the ring. He has fun doing this, and loves all the attention, which is why we do it. :)

zoombwaz
10-02-2009, 11:48 AM
My golden was the rare exception concerning tennis balls. He was a rescue, and already had grey around his muzzle when we adopted him (or he adopted us). I bought a few tennis balls, thinking he would love to play, be he was completely uninterested. But if you rolled an orange accross the floor he would chase it like a puppy. The vet estimated he was around 9 or 10, so he was way passed his prime.

What ruined us was him being diagnosed as having heart worms. The treatment was as likely to kill him as the heartworms. I asked the vet how long he had before the heartworms would cause serious health issues. The vet told us that the heartworms were pretty advanced, so he figured 6 months to a year. Knowing that, we started spoiling him and giving him more treats to eat, sharing "people food" with him ect. 5 years later when we had to have him put down, he was an overweight, happy dog with advanced arthritus and liver problems.

Sorry, remembering that shaggy old beast gets me smiling and ready to tear up at the same time.


I know the feeling. As I mentioned before, Callie, my lab/golden mix, had to be put down because of kidney failure. The last few months of her life, we had to give her half a bag of saline solution subcutaneously (at the scruff of the neck) every night to help flush her system, and she was so trusting that she always came over immediately when I waved her over, and lay quietly through the whole nightly ordeal. I had to use hand signals because she was deaf, the result of a vet's assistant deciding to flush her ears out while she was still under anesthesia from surgery when she was 5, and rupturing both her eardrums, since she was unable to flinch away. Fortunately, she had been taught hand signals as part of her obedience training. When we started the IVs, I had asked the vet when I would know it was time to put her down, because I didn't want to prolong her life if she was going to be in pain and unhappy, He said, "she'll let you know when it's time. When she refuses the IV, it will be time to make the appointment to bring her in." That's exactly what happened: one night I motioned for her to come, but she wouldn't. She looked very unhappy about disobeying, so I put the IV away, and let her know it was okay. I called the vet the next morning.

The day of the appointment, a couple of hours before we were due at the vet's, I took her outside for a last game of fetch with the tennis ball. She was a tennis ball addict, and had been since puppyhood, but had no idea what the word "ball" meant, since we had never used that word. "What?" I hear you cry. "How the hell could she be a tennis ball addict and not know what a ball was?"

The explanation is a little convoluted, so bear with me. High school buddy and post-college roommate invents faux Spanish phrase: Que pata la bueno. Years later, he was over for dinner and mentioned it. My daughter Erika, then 10, asked what it meant. Nothing, she was told.

"Well, can we teach Callie it means something?"

"Sure, as long as we're consistent and never use the real name, because that would confuse her. What do you have in mind?"

"Tennis ball. We just got them for her and haven't started training her to fetch yet."

"I like it." We have a lot of wise-ass friends and relatives,and I thought it had potential for a lot of laughs at their expense, and that turned out to be the case. Que pata la bueno became shortened in time to que pata, and everyone who knew or met her was roped into at least a couple of rounds of que pata. My extended family still refers to que patas when talking about those round fuzzy things, and Callie has been gone for almost 6 years now. That last afternoon, I threw what turned out to be her last que pata. Where she used to run back with it, drop it at your feet and run out to turn and wait for the next throw, that day she trotted back, dropped the que pata about 8-10 feet away, walked slowly the rest of the way back, turned and leaned against my right leg, then looked up at me with this apologetic look on her face, because she was too tired and weak to do her job. Anybody who has had a gun dog or a working dog/herder knows I'm not anthropomorphizing. Retrieving or herding is their raison d'etre, and when they can't do their job they get depressed. Any reputable Border Collie breeder will tell you they don't make the best house pets, because they need to work, and if there's no herding to be done, you need to give them work to do. If you don't, they will find a job to do, and you won't like the job they find.

When Callie turned down a game of que pata, I knew it was all over but the crying.

Damocles
10-02-2009, 12:32 PM
My German Shepherd/Rottweiler mix is a big friendly doofus. His middle name is Doofenshmurtz...

I have many more years to hang with him, and he is already one of the better behaved dogs I have owned. (They are all well-behaved but rarely this early or easily). I am looking forward to many more years to hang with the Doof.

Lazy on a walk, he'll play incessantly with our lab mix or run back and forth for his favorite rope toy all day long.

Thorn
10-02-2009, 02:02 PM
My German Shepherd/Rottweiler mix is a big friendly doofus. His middle name is Doofenshmurtz...

I have many more years to hang with him, and he is already one of the better behaved dogs I have owned. (They are all well-behaved but rarely this early or easily). I am looking forward to many more years to hang with the Doof.

Lazy on a walk, he'll play incessantly with our lab mix or run back and forth for his favorite rope toy all day long.

Rory's a big goofball too. But he also loves to snuggle and is never more than a couple of feet away from me. He's a great pal. Here he is, thinking that he can drive, one half of our doggy family:

http://i207.photobucket.com/albums/bb206/Thornjpp/Rorywantstodrive.jpg

uscitizen
10-02-2009, 02:43 PM
Dogs are much better friends than most humans.

Cancel5
10-02-2009, 02:44 PM
My sister had a Lab-Shepard mix, the son of an earlier dog, but it looked all lab, solid black and weighed at least 140. It wasn't so dumb though and was a good protector of the family. When they moved to Virginia from Maine her husband was busy at work and one of the movers started giving her a hard time. She was all alone with 5 kids. "Barney" sensed something was up and leaped over a 4' fence like it was a curb, got between sis and the perp and just glared at him. Needless to say he furniture got moved in without a scratch.

I used to wrestle with the dog and could not pin him. One winter I was visiting them in Maine and it was a dry winter- no snow at all. They lived on a lake and I brought my skates with me and literally skated miles that weekend. Barney followed along with me for as much as he could but I had a distinct advantage in speed and grip on the ice. I tired him out and was finally able to show him who was boss and pinned him on the ice in the middle of that big lake. He was still in good humor after that proving himself was a fine friend.

They had to kennel him during a vacation trip and poor Barney thought he was abandoned I suppose, because he died of a broken heart, age 8.
Oh, what a downer! So sad!

Cypress
10-02-2009, 03:46 PM
That's pretty funny. I grew up in the country with a big black Lab named Buster. He went everywhere with me, always walked between me and the road, nearly sending me into the ditch, and basically kept me out of whatever trouble I might otherwise found myself doing. He was extremely protective of us, yet seemed to have a sixth sense as to who was a good person. He was my best pal, and I don't remember any silliness on his part at all.

Now I have a friend who has two Labs who are friendly and energetic and lots of fun. I've moved on to the herding group, but still have a very very soft spot in my heart for the big Labs.


Labs are really cool, but pretty hyper sometimes it seems like.

My best furry buddy ever was a German Shepard named Heidi. She was so cool, friendly and mellow. Never too hyper, and never to lethargic. Man, Shepards are beautiful dogs too, IMO. Just classic canine features.

Hey Thorn, what do you know about Huskies or malamutes? How would they be with a little dog, like a shitzu? And are they super hyper or anything? I live in a cool, temperate climate, so I don’t think a huskie would be hating the weather here…..

Thorn
10-02-2009, 04:04 PM
Labs are really cool, but pretty hyper sometimes it seems like.

My best furry buddy ever was a German Shepard named Heidi. She was so cool, friendly and mellow. Never too hyper, and never to lethargic. Man, Shepards are beautiful dogs too, IMO. Just classic canine features.

Hey Thorn, what do you know about Huskies or malamutes? How would they be with a little dog, like a shitzu? And are they super hyper or anything? I live in a cool, temperate climate, so I don’t think a huskie would be hating the weather here…..

A friend of mine raises Siberians, I'll ask her. She has never had a small dog around, though! I know that they're intelligent, sometimes too much so!, and very wilful. It may take a few days for her to get back to me but I'll let you know what she says.

Everyone has mentioned so many different breeds; I love them all! At the dog show last weekend, one competitor in Obedience had the sweetest Rottie who was very stressed out. People have sometimes misguided expectations about certain breeds' behaviors and sometimes treat them accordingly. This poor girl's owner told me of a couple of incidents at shows where people had all but terrorized this poor dog, assuming that she was "tough". At her owner's request, I spent a lot of time just petting her and helping to make her feel at ease. She loved it!

Cypress
10-02-2009, 04:12 PM
A friend of mine raises Siberians, I'll ask her. She has never had a small dog around, though! I know that they're intelligent, sometimes too much so!, and very wilful. It may take a few days for her to get back to me but I'll let you know what she says.

Everyone has mentioned so many different breeds; I love them all! At the dog show last weekend, one competitor in Obedience had the sweetest Rottie who was very stressed out. People have sometimes misguided expectations about certain breeds' behaviors and sometimes treat them accordingly. This poor girl's owner told me of a couple of incidents at shows where people had all but terrorized this poor dog, assuming that she was "tough". At her owner's request, I spent a lot of time just petting her and helping to make her feel at ease. She loved it!


Thanks! I just think those Huskies look awesome, I have no idea what it would be like to own one.

Totally understand about the misconceptions.... Most of those so-called mean dogs I've had experience with are total pussy cats! It's those damn little dogs you have to watch out for!

The rottie probably sensed your good vibes. You sound like a total animal person, and animals can sense that. One thing I've learned about dogs, is that they are excellent judges of people. !

Cancel5
10-02-2009, 06:36 PM
Thanks! I just think those Huskies look awesome, I have no idea what it would be like to own one.

Totally understand about the misconceptions.... Most of those so-called mean dogs I've had experience with are total pussy cats! It's those damn little dogs you have to watch out for!

The rottie probably sensed your good vibes. You sound like a total animal person, and animals can sense that. One thing I've learned about dogs, is that they are excellent judges of people. !
I love to watch them get ready for a race!!!! It is so exciting! They are so eager and ready to set off with the sleigh! The excitement is infectious!

zoombwaz
10-04-2009, 01:52 PM
A friend of mine raises Siberians, I'll ask her. She has never had a small dog around, though! I know that they're intelligent, sometimes too much so!, and very wilful. It may take a few days for her to get back to me but I'll let you know what she says.

Everyone has mentioned so many different breeds; I love them all! At the dog show last weekend, one competitor in Obedience had the sweetest Rottie who was very stressed out. People have sometimes misguided expectations about certain breeds' behaviors and sometimes treat them accordingly. This poor girl's owner told me of a couple of incidents at shows where people had all but terrorized this poor dog, assuming that she was "tough". At her owner's request, I spent a lot of time just petting her and helping to make her feel at ease. She loved it!


Most dog competitions are fun to watch Retriever field trials are a blast. Border Collie herding trials are amazing. Agility trials, K9 trials, and obedience trials are fun as well, because the dogs are doing what they love (although I have been told that Basset Hounds tend to fall asleep during long sit-stays). I saw a Basset Hound fetch his own ear when searching for the object touched by his handler. The handler looked disgusted, but the crowd was on the dog's side...the ear fit the criteria he was given: bring back the first object you find that has the handler's smell on it...when you're snuffling along the ground and your ears are so long they drag on the ground, it's pretty much guaranteed that if you turn in either direction, the first object you're going to run into is your ear, which means it was the handler's fault for touching the dog's ears in the first place. He contaminated the field by introducing two more objects with his scent (duh). Then we have the horsey set's favorite: the Jack Russell races, which are absolute madness. My daughter was an equestrian, riding in combined training events, and saw one race where the usual 12 dogs started, with the usual 12 pre-adolescent girls and boys waiting at the end to catch the little shits as they come tearing through the chute at the finish line, but in this race 13 dogs finished; one Jack Russell amongst the spectators got overly excited and entered the race from the sidelines, meaning we now have one pre-adolescent too few to catch the dogs, and worse only five of the kids had the presence of mind to secure their own charges before attempting to corrall the 13th dog. The other seven lost control of theirs, so we now have 8 manic little dogs on the loose instead of just one. I love it when a plan comes together.

The coolest demonstration of obedience I have ever seen was not in an obediance competition, but in the Colorado Sled Dog Championships in the weight pull event, where they hook a singler dog to a sled, and see which dog can pull the heaviest load a prescribed distance. The woman who gave my black Lab Jason his obedience training had a Samoyed named Puff, who excelled in the obedience trials. Like your Aussie, Puff would shake with excitement at the end of each exercize until he heard her say the magic words, "exercize over," at which point he'd jump up into her arms. The crowd ate it up.

Shek new Puff was strong, and figured he could at least hold his own in the weight pull, so she entered him. Against a bunch of big bruisers: Siberians. Malamutes, Huskie mixes, some shepards, Bernese mountain dogs, St. Bernards, Great Pyrenees. a lot of Kings, Rexes, Dukes, Princes...big, macho dogs, with manly names and macho, manly owners.

And Puff, whose owner was (gasp) A WOMAN! And great was the hilarity when they called his name over the P.A., with much hooting and stomping of feet. As each manly named dog took its turn in the first round, the manly owners would stand at the finish line and shout out encouragement, imprecations, and even the odd tongue-in-cheek threat (of being neutered if he lost, what else?) to their big bruisers with the royal and/or tough-guy names. Diane walked to the finish line, turned to Puff, and said quietly (and once only, for each round) ”Puff, come.” And Puff obeyed. Every round. And he won. And after the last round, when all the hooting had long since stopped, she took Puff out of his traces, stood up, and said, “exercise over.” Nobody laughed when Puff jumped into her arms.

Thorn
10-04-2009, 08:44 PM
Most dog competitions are fun to watch Retriever field trials are a blast. Border Collie herding trials are amazing. Agility trials, K9 trials, and obedience trials are fun as well, because the dogs are doing what they love (although I have been told that Basset Hounds tend to fall asleep during long sit-stays). I saw a Basset Hound fetch his own ear when searching for the object touched by his handler. The handler looked disgusted, but the crowd was on the dog's side...the ear fit the criteria he was given: bring back the first object you find that has the handler's smell on it...when you're snuffling along the ground and your ears are so long they drag on the ground, it's pretty much guaranteed that if you turn in either direction, the first object you're going to run into is your ear, which means it was the handler's fault for touching the dog's ears in the first place. He contaminated the field by introducing two more objects with his scent (duh). Then we have the horsey set's favorite: the Jack Russell races, which are absolute madness. My daughter was an equestrian, riding in combined training events, and saw one race where the usual 12 dogs started, with the usual 12 pre-adolescent girls and boys waiting at the end to catch the little shits as they come tearing through the chute at the finish line, but in this race 13 dogs finished; one Jack Russell amongst the spectators got overly excited and entered the race from the sidelines, meaning we now have one pre-adolescent too few to catch the dogs, and worse only five of the kids had the presence of mind to secure their own charges before attempting to corrall the 13th dog. The other seven lost control of theirs, so we now have 8 manic little dogs on the loose instead of just one. I love it when a plan comes together.

The coolest demonstration of obedience I have ever seen was not in an obediance competition, but in the Colorado Sled Dog Championships in the weight pull event, where they hook a singler dog to a sled, and see which dog can pull the heaviest load a prescribed distance. The woman who gave my black Lab Jason his obedience training had a Samoyed named Puff, who excelled in the obedience trials. Like your Aussie, Puff would shake with excitement at the end of each exercize until he heard her say the magic words, "exercize over," at which point he'd jump up into her arms. The crowd ate it up.

Shek new Puff was strong, and figured he could at least hold his own in the weight pull, so she entered him. Against a bunch of big bruisers: Siberians. Malamutes, Huskie mixes, some shepards, Bernese mountain dogs, St. Bernards, Great Pyrenees. a lot of Kings, Rexes, Dukes, Princes...big, macho dogs, with manly names and macho, manly owners.

And Puff, whose owner was (gasp) A WOMAN! And great was the hilarity when they called his name over the P.A., with much hooting and stomping of feet. As each manly named dog took its turn in the first round, the manly owners would stand at the finish line and shout out encouragement, imprecations, and even the odd tongue-in-cheek threat (of being neutered if he lost, what else?) to their big bruisers with the royal and/or tough-guy names. Diane walked to the finish line, turned to Puff, and said quietly (and once only, for each round) ”Puff, come.” And Puff obeyed. Every round. And he won. And after the last round, when all the hooting had long since stopped, she took Puff out of his traces, stood up, and said, “exercise over.” Nobody laughed when Puff jumped into her arms.

I've watched the international herding trials; they just amaze me. Here's something even more mind-boggling, if you haven't seen it before (or even if you have):

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1137883380?bctid=17075685001

I'll be competing next weekend in Agility trials with my Border Collie. He's brilliant, it's I who am the amateur and have everything to learn. He is extremely enthusiastic, and fast (the only time I thought to look at the time clock, we had done a 16-obstacle jumper's course in 19.56 seconds). He obviously enjoys himself so much that even if he messes up he's enormously entertaining. We're both looking forward to a very good time. In the meantime I expect he'll continue to wake me before first light, hoping I'll accompany him into the back yard to run him through the Agility course we have set up there. :p

WinterBorn
10-05-2009, 05:04 AM
I've watched the international herding trials; they just amaze me. Here's something even more mind-boggling, if you haven't seen it before (or even if you have):

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1137883380?bctid=17075685001

I'll be competing next weekend in Agility trials with my Border Collie. He's brilliant, it's I who am the amateur and have everything to learn. He is extremely enthusiastic, and fast (the only time I thought to look at the time clock, we had done a 16-obstacle jumper's course in 19.56 seconds). He obviously enjoys himself so much that even if he messes up he's enormously entertaining. We're both looking forward to a very good time. In the meantime I expect he'll continue to wake me before first light, hoping I'll accompany him into the back yard to run him through the Agility course we have set up there. :p

I love that video. In addition to being a testament to the amazing abilities of the herding dogs, it shows how far man can go when he is bored.

It also may answer the age old question "Do robots dream of electric sheep?"

zoombwaz
10-05-2009, 06:58 AM
I've watched the international herding trials; they just amaze me. Here's something even more mind-boggling, if you haven't seen it before (or even if you have):

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1137883380?bctid=17075685001

I'll be competing next weekend in Agility trials with my Border Collie. He's brilliant, it's I who am the amateur and have everything to learn. He is extremely enthusiastic, and fast (the only time I thought to look at the time clock, we had done a 16-obstacle jumper's course in 19.56 seconds). He obviously enjoys himself so much that even if he messes up he's enormously entertaining. We're both looking forward to a very good time. In the meantime I expect he'll continue to wake me before first light, hoping I'll accompany him into the back yard to run him through the Agility course we have set up there. :p


Mind-boggling is right. That video was stunning.

The thing that impressed me about the one local herding trials I attended was that while one Border Collie was going through its paces, ALL of the other dogs in the competition were watching intently, whether they had already competed or were waiting their turn. Incredibly smart dogs.

It was there we met Donald Mccaig, author of Eminent Dogs, Dangerous Men and Nop'sTrials. He's the one who told us that if you don't give a Border Collie a job to do, the dog will find a job to do, and you won't like the job he finds.

Thorn
10-05-2009, 09:51 AM
Mind-boggling is right. That video was stunning.

The thing that impressed me about the one local herding trials I attended was that while one Border Collie was going through its paces, ALL of the other dogs in the competition were watching intently, whether they had already competed or were waiting their turn. Incredibly smart dogs.

It was there we met Donald Mccaig, author of Eminent Dogs, Dangerous Men and Nop'sTrials. He's the one who told us that if you don't give a Border Collie a job to do, the dog will find a job to do, and you won't like the job he finds.

All true. You should see Barley waiting for his turn in the Agility ring, or just if we're walking past. The intensity of his gaze could burn holes! That statement about giving a BC a job has become a mantra, I think, and is oft-repeated. It is absolutely true! As to his intelligence, some of my fellow agility handlers have suggested that I just show him a map of the course and let him take it from there. I only have to show him something once, and I swear sometimes he has it figured out before we start. Our Agility coach and I are also convinced that he can count.

On his other side, the BC is the sweetest, most affectionate breed I've ever lived with.

zoombwaz
10-05-2009, 06:23 PM
Actually, in making them companions we simply are emphasizing something that is inherent in their natures, the "pack" mindset, with the alteration that the humans become the alphas rather than other dogs. You can see a reversion to the Pack, sadly, when people ignorantly release unwanted pets into the country and they form packs of their own, suspicious of humans. That is, assuming that they survive before this happens, but that's for another thread.



Yup, and the people who can't control their dogs are the ones who are unwilling or unable to assume the alpha role. When I worked as a pool and spa technician, we had a lot of customers with dogs, most of whom I was on very good terms with (the dogs, not the customers). Later as the service manager, I still assigned myself a full day of service calls, both because I was the second best mechanic and because I hated being in the office. One cutomer in particular, who lived way out in the middle of nowhere, at least 15 miles from East Jesus, had this beast that was half husky and half wolf (or so he claimed), and the rule was that either this snarling monster had to be inside when we got there, or somebody had to be home to bring him in. I got there to start the pool up for the season, and the dog was out, raising holy hell with me from inside the 6' stockade fence, and nobody was home.

Being the service manager, I knew nobody was going to be anywhere near the place for weeks, and even though it was their fault for leaving the hound of the Baskervilles out, I really wanted to get their pool started up on that trip. I knew he was just ornery and not attack trained, so I figured, what the hell, let’s take a shot at this bear. I got my tool belt, walked up to the gate, and in my best “take no prisoners” voice, I said, “SIT!!” His ass hit the ground in about a half second, but he looked conflicted,sort of like, “I don’t recognize the voice or the scent, but this sumbitch means business. I know. I’ll scoot forward a little bit and see if he notices...”

“STAY!!”

“Shit, he noticed...guess i’ll stay.”

So I walked in the gate like I owned the place, and ignored the dog until I got to the filter system, set my tool belt down, faced the dog, who was still sitting, but looking over his shoulder at me , bent over slightly, slapped my hands on my knees, and said, “You wanna play?” The dog immediately dropped into the “play” stance: down almost on his elbows, front paws splayed, butt in the air, tail wagging. All mine. I said, “Come on up and say hi!” And the monster came bounding up like a puppy, and my new best friend in the world EVER. We had a great time. We played ball, stick, plastic shovel, 3/4” box wrench...WTF? How the hell did you get that? C’mon pup, give me the wrench back. That’s my toy, not yours. Drop it. Good dog. Oh, I know this game...when I reach for it, you’re gonna snatch it up again. Well, aren’t we clever? Got news for you pup. Homey don’t play that. I’m not going to risk getting my hand on that wrench a half-second before your jaws clamp down on both, and...LOOK! A flying turtle! (don’t laugh...it works on my dad too..ask Froggie or apple about that)

He whirled and looked where I was pointing “WHERE? WHERE?”

Thinking, “sucker” I snatched up the wrench before he could turn around again, and

Oh, no...

Doggie slobber...

All over my wrench...

a 1/8” thick coating, with the viscosity of a 60/40 mixture of Pennzoil 10W30 and snot...

Aarrgh....is it even water soluble? Barely.


Remember two things: 1) be the alpha, and 2) wear gloves.