The other love of my life was Tiny, my mastiff. Many stories about her but this is my favorite picture of her and DS:
Our white german shepherd "talks" to us. She likes to stand at the top of the stairs in our house and give a barking kind of howl. I'll usually respond conversationally, and then SHE responds. We can go back and forth like this for quite a while before she gets distracted.
My daughter's cat likes to head-butt people. If you're sitting on our sofa, he'll jump up onto the back, walk along the "spine" of the couch, then butt his head into yours. He'll continue doing it until you reach up and pet him.
Gotta love those furbabies!!
[This message edited by GabyBaby at 12:24 PM, July 18th (Thursday)]
WXH (serial cheater, 12+ OW. Undiagnosed SA?)
Note: I edit often for typos/clarity.
Sad, That pic is adorable!
Gabe then proceeds to "dig" the covers off of hubby (using
[This message edited by SI Staff at 12:31 PM, July 18th (Thursday)]
My tolerance for stupid shit is getting less and less.
For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning. - T.S. Eliot
My Dane was a great counter surfer, and nothing, was safe. If it was edible she was going to get it. She was known for eating entire loaves of sandwich bread. Nothing more frustrating than going to make lunches for the next day, and finding there is no bread at 9pm.
I had a Golden that was a total water hound - when he was about 4 months old he would go into the back yard (we were in college still) roll in this big nasty mud puddle, and go from golden to nearly black, and then when you let him in, he would go straight to the bathroom and hop in the tub, waiting his next bath. You didn't have to tell him, he just knew. He also had a trick of sleeping in the tub in our first apartment when we got out of college. He would work to close the stopper and it had a slow drip when we would get home from work he would have a wet belly, and legs from lying in the water that had collected in the tub during the day.
We have a black lab now that is a waterfowl dog. My H and son trained her, and she is amazingly smart, and probably the most athletic dog I have ever seen. If anyone picks up a shotgun in our house, she immediately gets excited, and is ready to retrieve. When she hears a loud noise (similar to a shotgun) she will watch the sky, and start looking for a duck. We have to give her the No Bird command before she will quit looking for it.
She sucks at remembering to turn off the tap though .
Kyle is such a cutie and sounds like a little tight rope walker.
tushnurse - Seeing Dane and counter surfer in the same sentence is hysterical. I'm sorry about your bread.
I love how your kitty shows so much affection
I'll start with Eliot and Webber (named after "Cats"). They were abandoned by their feral mother after their female littermate was killed by a fox. They were around three days old at the time, so I had to hand-raise them. This caused certain boundary issues, as they were convinced I was just a giant cat.
Eliot would climb onto the bed and bury his face in my (then very long) hair, then roll over. And over. And over. Each time, he'd get a little more tangled. There were a few times I had to have Mr. T come and cut the cat out of my hair.
Webber was a cuddler, and would jump in my lap and put his paws just on either side of my neck and sit there, eyes closed and nose-to-nose with me, purring. I never figured out why, but he had a bit of a drooling problem. When he'd purr, he'd blow little spit bubbles. Imagine me sitting there, face to face with an ostensibly dozing cat, little bubbles going "pop!" right between us.
Gypsie was a border collie dog, a gorgeous smooth coated tricolor. She had the most animated eyebrows, and a wicked sense of humor. (You can't tell me she didn't.) I could spend all day writing about what she would do in various situations, but my favorite thing of all was how she would bark or perform tricks according to hand signals. I could sit unseen in another room and have her "converse" with visitors. It was very funny.
Now I have Pookie, a chow/Aussie mix. She's decided she's Mr. T's dog. As you know, Mr. T is way into kung fu. He practices often in the back yard, and every form starts with a bow. Pooks and I tend to sit out there to watch him, and after her first month with us, she started to bow back to him. Now, every day when she greets him at the door, they bow to one another. She'll bow to anybody who comes to the door, too, so when strangers enter I ask them to bow to the dog. They do, every time. It cracks me up.
[This message edited by Threnody at 3:27 PM, July 18th (Thursday)]
Eliot would climb onto the bed and bury his face in my (then very long) hair, then roll over. And over. And over. Each time, he'd get a little more tangled
would love to meet your kitty, Jo!
Here she is as a kitten after being busted kissing her panda.
Here she is 2yrs later.
[This message edited by SI Staff at 7:44 PM, July 18th (Thursday)]
This thread needs some Kyle and Teddy pics.
My little spaz Gabe (aka GabyBaby):
CJ, our conversationalist:
Our head-butting kitty Adrian (left) and his brother Whisper:
[This message edited by GabyBaby at 8:48 PM, July 18th (Thursday)]
Also...what is it with cats and boxes?!! No box is safe in our house either.
I wish I knew. I like seeing them try to cram into a box that is too small, only get 2 paws in, and then look down like, "Damn. I don't fit."