I once had a dog that lived on poo. Never ate dog food, she would just eat the poo from whatever critter was getting fattened up at the time (grain fed). She was also a hunter and a genuine wild game epicure. She would prepare her trophy thusly; She would lay out her prize in a choice sunny location ( she preferred woodchuck and muskrat). She would guard it while it gently baked in the sun. When it was just right, bloated, skin distended, legs pointing straight out (kinda like a disgusting football with legs), she would eat it. Every bit of it. Skin, bones, hair, guts, and all.
I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.
Hah, hilarious everyone! I had to gird my loins in order to bathe the mutts, so I took a valium. Hour and a half later I let the little monsters back in the house (they had to go back outside till I was sufficiently numb to bathe them without popping an aneurism) and gave them each a baff. First, the big dog. She's old and doesn't fight me, she just stands there in the tub, sulking, resigned. The chee hwah hwah thinks I'm doing somethign really terrible to her and constantly cries, whines, pounces at my legs and back while I'm sitting on the floor by the tub, and he hangs over the side of the tub looking down in at the old dog to see if I've killed her yet. Then more whining and pouncing until I'm finished with her. THEN it's HIS turn. Oh, they crying, it's pitiful. He sounds like I'm traumatizing him, and he hooks his front feet and chin over the side of the tub and scooches right up against my arm. I end up soaked. They get plain old people shampoo, tonight it was Suave tangerine. They smelled like tangerine wet dog. Then the chee hwah hwah ran laps around the house as fast as he could possibly go, while the old dog just went and laid on a towel on the floor for a while and fell asleep.
Migrane is gone, thank goodness for drugs sometimes.
ETA Tinknal, we had a hound dog of some kind (a Walker?) who loved to catch squirrels and store them away until they had become tender and juicy. She could catch squirrels like no dog I'd ever seen. She had a few trees around the yard that had roots that stuck up a foot or so, near the trunk. Nice little places to stash her catches. Many times I saw her rooting leaves up over a little pile and carefully compacting the leaves down, looking around furtively as she did so. After a couple of days, she'd go uncover it, snack on it for a while, then shove the remains back into the root crotch and recover it with leaves so she could save the rest for later. I always wondered how she never got poisoned. Once I took away a rotten squirrel and threw it over the back fence into the woods, and the absolute FURY in her voice as she barked at me was unbelievable. She was extremely angry with me for throwing away her squirrel. I never did that again.
We have two Aussie pups, and a couple days ago we ran to the store (45 min one way, plus shopping). When we got back I noticed that they had peed in their kennel. I had just taken the towels out of it before we left to wash them b/c they were peed on, so they were rolling around in their own pee. We didn't get back until 9:30pm, but I had to give them both baths. I bathed one, then as I was bathing the other one the first one pooped on the living room floor. *groan* I feel ya.
Ya got that right! I hate it when my buck 'goes all Captain Yellowbeard'.
We kept wondering why my son's Boer stud Raymond didn't stink. My son found out the hard way that Raymond is crooked.
DS hopped out of the truck one day after just arriving on the farm to relieve himself. He was checking out the view while doing his business when he noticed his leg grew very warm and then wet.
Looking behind him, he saw Raymond imitating him, but Raymond can't hit his beard, he shots a little off and he was hitting my son's leg. Another time Raymond snuck up on Dh while dh was mending fence. DS warned his dad to look out, Raymond's behind you. Raymond got dh's shoe before dh could move.
We've been having triplets this year. So some how he connects his dots.
I have heard that gun dogs are more guilty of this habit...I've had two dogs who displayed this behavior. One a Gordon setter and one I currently own, a Brittany. My Brit is especially fond of rolling in deer poop. She'll try to scarf a big gulp, too if I'm not at her side. I think like someone before suggested, it is an attempt to mask their own scent.
"Those who hammer their guns into plows will plow the fields of those who don't."-Thomas Jefferson
My understanding is that they roll in it to tell the pack what is in the neighborhood. And they come to you because you're their "pack" LOL I know, my DH is not impressed with the billboard announcement either, but can get the Malamute mix to stop... And the dog _adores_ him ROFL!
When my parents first got married, they opened up a plant nursery and landscaping business. It was located on an acre about a mile outside of town. They had a german shepherd, named Tip, and since they lived in an apartment, they decided to let him sleep at the nursery most nights. The property was fenced, he had a nice little shed to sleep in and his presence kept kids from messing around at the place.
Every so often, he just couldn't handle it...he tried really hard to be good but the urge would overcome him and he would have to rip open a bag of blood meal and roll in it. The nursery was on top of a hill. The road to the place was full of large dips, so right before you arrived, you could be seen from the front of the nursery and then you would glide down a hill out of sight before the road rose up and brought you to the front of the place.
Tip knew it was wrong. He only did it every once in a while and they always knew when he did it. As they approached, they would see him by the gate waiting for them. As they disappeared down the hill, he would run and hide at the very back of the property. My mom said every time he hid from them, sure enough, he had gotten into the blood meal and boy, did it stink.
My dog (French Brittany) will rub her neck into whatever dead thing she smells. I scold her and give her a bath. She actually loves water and swimming, but hates baths. When she is done, I take out the hair dryer. Most dogs bite at the air, but she loves to sit there with me brushing my hand up and down her to dry her out. When I stop, she pushes my hand for more. Go figure.