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The dog is man's best friend. So what is your favourite?
The dog is man's best friend. So what is your favourite?
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kenny, don't you be so sure. If one of them goes out one day and takes a fancy to living somewhere else, it will.
One of the ones who came to me about 13-14 years ago (Panther) was spoiled rotten and obviously very well looked after. He trotted across the fences and turned up at the back door here one day and all I did was say "hello" to him. He took one look at me and ran into the house and wouldn't leave. My mother carried him back to where he came from later that night (as her brother, who also lived close by at the time, had told her where he was from). She was invited in and it was obvious the people cared for the cat very much - and he appeared to do so for them. The next day he was straight back across the fences and in my house. He just wouldn't leave after that, no matter what. |
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Border collies look pretty intelligent until you see one carrying a 3-foot stick trying to negotiate a 2'6" gateway.
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How sttange Tommy, I've never heard of a well cared for cat who has good food, peace and tranquility leaving for no good reason but it obviously does happen. I'll have to follow them when they wander out lol, not that they travel far, and I keep them in at night.
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This was also at the time that next door's cat (Thomas) had also decided to move in (as good as).
Thomas didn't like any other cats, ever, and chased Panther all round the house as soon as he saw him, trying to punch his lights out. Panther didn't retaliate but just kept running until Thomas had had enough. This went on for months until Thomas gave up and accepted him. Panther would have had a much quieter life going back to where he lived - but would he? Oh no. |
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Very funny, Screaming!
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I was sharing a terraced house in Brighton years ago where we had a very thin black cat called The Ferret. The back yard was separated from next door by a high wall, but we knew the lady there also had a cat, as we used to hear her each evening calling out "Blackie! Blackie! Come and get your dinner!"
I feel a bit stupid now that it took us several weeks to work out who Blackie was. In the end we discovered he also had a woman a mile away on the Whitehawk estate who he used to pop in to occasionally for lunch. |
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I was sharing a terraced house in Brighton years ago where we had a very thin black cat called The Ferret. The back yard was separated from next door by a high wall, but we knew the lady there also had a cat, as we used to hear her each evening calling out "Blackie! Blackie! Come and get your dinner!"
I feel a bit stupid now that it took us several weeks to work out who Blackie was. In the end we discovered he also had a woman a mile away on the Whitehawk estate who he used to pop in to occasionally for lunch. |
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Screaming. You're quite right there!
 To be honest, that's the kind of mental exercise that I would recommend any dog owner should do deliberately. If he clatters the gate twice, but then works out to hold one only, you've got a good dog.If he's still ramming the gateposts after twenty tries...you've got a bull terrier. |
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The one who is currently in situ is 15 years old, for goodness sake, and decided to 'leave home' at about 13 and a half!
When he was ill with the trapped fur ball in January and I spoke to various members of the family from where he came about him, they were all extremely nice people. They still are - but as one of them said: "Cats know where they want to live and there's nothing you can do about it". Aye, it's muggings here who just happens to fall for it every time though. |
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I don't think Leo would move home. He's so frightened of other people if they come too close that I'm sure he'll stay put. Susie however would let anyone pick her up.
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well I'm sure they're grateful to you Tommy, in their own way.Cleo showed her gratitude in so many ways, She was a wonderful cat, About 3 years now since I lost her.Bless her.
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That's nice Tommy. I've never chosen to have a cat. I live too near heavy traffic and I can't relax when they go out. Cleo belonged to a woman whose daughter had moved into the area. The mother had moved into the daughter's house for a week to help her settle in and brought Cleo with her. Cleo appeared on my doorstep one day. I made a bit of a fuss of her and she stayed the night. I thought she was a stray but she had got lost in the area and was re-united with her owner the next day. She had to move into a flat some time later and couldn't take a pet so she asked me to have her. My current two were not looked after by neighbours so I took them in, although not at the same time.
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I remember, kenny.
I'm glad they've given you so much pleasure since you've taken them all on. You're definitely a 'cat person' - so well done to you. |
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Naydam, I used to have a border collie who would still be ramming that gate to this day if I hadn't taken the stick off her.
Poor old Brandy. Her previous owner used to leave her alone in the house all day, the only entertainment being when someone had to pop in at lunchtime and would switch on the TV for the afternoon to entertain her. As a consequence, by the time I got her, aged 10, she viewed the screen as closely as any telly addict, forever on the lookout for any non-human animal to appear. Horse racing and Roadrunner cartoons were great favourites, but greyhound racing was best of all. The moment the lids opened she'd be off, racing anti-clockwise around the living room until the moment the lure was thrown to the dogs, when she'd hurl herself at the screen. |
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That's really made me laugh Screaming!
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I wish I could post a picture of her, Tommy, but she preceded digital photography (or at least digital photography for my pocket).
Of all the dogs I've had, Brandy was the only one who left me in tears when the time came to put her down, which is odd, as I only had her about 18 months, the last 6 of which she couldn't walk more than a couple of hundred yards before having to lie down. It just felt such a wasted life she'd led. |
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That's a shame, Screaming. At least you gave her some enjoyment in her life, which she no doubt appreciated - so well done to you.
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How can you not be in tears when your dog is put down, with respect?
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I know I'm a big softy but even so.
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I loved the driving dogs from New Zealand on BBC tonight.
(Wonder if they could sail a boat?) |
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Kenny, there's nothing I can do about it. I never cried when either of my parents died. I can't force it.
The odd thing is it seems to affect other people more. Because I've never learnt to drive, my dogs tend to accompany me everywhere on foot. Living in small towns or villages as I have done for the last 25 or so years, I suppose I've become a sort of permanent feature of the landscape - the peculiar deaf bloke with the dog(s). So when one gets put down, it results in a small bit of the community life disappearing too. When I lived near Castle Cary I had a pair of, I suppose, setter crosses called Lady and Gent which I'd got from Heaven's Gate Animal Sanctuary at the ages of 9 and 7. When Gent had a stroke at the age of 16 and I called out the vet in the middle of the night to have the dog put to sleep, it was the vet who was in floods of tears and not me. I just felt sorry for Gent that he was a big clumsy mutt right to the end, soiling the vet's table while he was trying to euthanize him. Lady, by contrast, after also suffering a midnight stroke at the age of 17, had gone out the way she'd always lived her life, with a composed dignity. Weeping and sobbing simply weren't part of the moment. |
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A very good answer screaming as expected. I envy you. I'm just the opposite. When I lost my cat it was as hard as losing my Mum, daft as that sounds.
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Not daft at all, kenny. Not at all.
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Poor old Brandy. Her previous owner used to leave her alone in the house all day, the only entertainment being when someone had to pop in at lunchtime and would switch on the TV for the afternoon to entertain her. As a consequence, by the time I got her, aged 10, she viewed the screen as closely as any telly addict, forever on the lookout for any non-human animal to appear. Horse racing and Roadrunner cartoons were great favourites, but greyhound racing was best of all. The moment the lids opened she'd be off, racing anti-clockwise around the living room until the moment the lure was thrown to the dogs, when she'd hurl herself at the screen.
Have found a couple of old photos of her and scanned them. Here she is waiting for Teletext to update the horseracing results:  And relaxing in front of a cartoon: [ This image is no longer available. ] |
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nice photos,screaming.
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I have great affection for all breeds of dog but my favouritest of all is the Norwich Terrier ... not to be confused with the Norfolk Terrier, which has less erect - ooh matron
 - ears.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwich_Terrier |
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never heard of them before trilby
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This http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pWIv_z2pxo is a Norfolk - note the ears.
A far inferior breed to the Norwich - much like how Rangers and Septic Tank are from Glasgow ... and you should know by now where my allegiances lie  |
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scooby doo
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Great story and photos of Brandy screaming. Identical to my dog btw.
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People who don't exercise their dogs make my blood boil.
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Kenny my wife takes our dog over the park every morning for about an hour. Later I'll take her or we both take her out again for a walk along the river bank where she has a few swimming spots.
Both her walks are roughly at the same time and if you're 5 minutes late she lets you know and won't get off our case until we take her. |
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That's wonderful akabula. I'd have been very surprised if you didn't. Dogs are lovely animals, almost as good as cats.
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snoopy
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The odd thing about Brandy was her complete disregard for the cat which shared her home, as you can see in those photos. Yet when a cat appeared on TV, she would bark, run in circles and snap at the screen.
Purdy, the cat in those pics, came from Heaven's Gate animal sanctuary in Somerset. She had some sort of nervous disorder which left her unable to flex her front legs properly, so when she walked or tried to run, the front paws would come pounding down heavily on the ground. The house I lived in at that time still had the old suspended wooden floor in one of the rooms, so when she moved around, you'd hear deep, loud, Hammer Horror-style footsteps approaching the door, which would slowly creak open to reveal ... a tabby cat. |
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Ah bless, is she still around and getting out a bit?
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open dog thread and it's about facking cats. ffs imo.
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Afraid not, kenny. Those pictures were taken about a dozen years ago. She simply got very old and and generally deteriorated to the extent she was one of the few animals which I've had put to sleep before anything disastrous happened to their health, so she never suffered a stroke or organ failure or anything like that.
Now let's get this thread back on topic:  |
