Early Morning Open Thread: Pet’s Pet


From commentor Josie:

This is my gentle Akbash goat guarding dog Teddi and her cat Wiley. Teddi is not a rescue in the classic sense, but I did rescue her from her older half brothers who were picking on her. My son had bought three dogs to guard his goats and made the mistake of putting them in my dog run until he could take them to the ranch. I heard Teddi crying pitifully, and, well, you can guess the rest. When my son returned for the dogs, she was firmly ensconced in the house, and he had only two goat guarding dogs. She now guards me, two small dogs, two cats and several birds and is the best friend a person could have. The cat, Wiley, is the offspring of a feral cat that I fed along with several others. I caught him and his sister and neutered them and they are quite tame. Wiley lost his ear when a mean neighborhood cat beat him up, but we have since moved and have an eight foot fence which he is only too happy to stay behind. He loves Teddi, especially in the winter, when she is like having a big cuddly heater next to you.








Late Night Open Thread: Dog Awesomeness

…for the definition where ‘awesome’ = ‘silly’.








Early Morning Open Thread: Pedro




From commentor TattooSydney:

The first I knew about Pedro was when I got a call from my husband out of the blue asking whether we could get a dog. I said yes, and foolishly asked what kind of dogs we should look at, only to be told “He’s a red cattle dog. I’ll send you a photo. I’m going to fill in the papers now.”
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Pedro came from the rescue shelter pre-trained, devoted and badly damaged in his little doggy head. With us, he has always been the sweetest and cleverest and doggiest of dogs. However, as we discovered, he had (and has) serious fear issues with anyone else (although only if we are there). Worse, when frightened his immediate response is attack, man or dog, to protect us.
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We floundered for a while through trainers hopeless and without hope – one got bitten, two said we should just put him down because he would always be a risk to us and other people. We resorted to training him by instinct and Patricia McConnell, with pretty good success. We finally found a good vet who has helped us turn him into a fairly normal dog who can go for a walk without killing (or even barking at) anything, quite likes going to the vet (they stuff him silly with treats) and even (a significant breakthrough) lets other dogs sniff his bottom.
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He’s still a dog just for me, hubby and our flatmate, kept separate from other people all the time, but he’s my best friend and I wouldn’t swap him for another dog and all the money in the world.
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I have attached that first photo and my favourite Pedro photos – him at his most cuddly.








Early Morning Open Thread: Pink Bows


From commentor Dog Is My Copilot:

This is a memorial, sadly… RIP, Brandy…
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In December 2006, Golden Bond Rescue contacted me to do a dog evaluation in Puyallup, Washington. The dog’s name was Brandy. After the evaluation was done, GB asked if my husband and I could foster her. My husband (the softy) said that if she came into the household, she’d be a permanent part of the family. Well… She came… and she stayed.
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From the very start, we could see that Brandy was going to “need a little work.” It was obvious that she had a mind of her own and didn’t regard most humans as “master.” She quickly earned the nick-name “PITA.” (Yes, that’s an acronym!) Brandy was somewhat like a bull in a china shop and claimed the role of lead dog in our small pack. Without much behavioral training, she was a handful.
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We worked with Brandy over the next two years to instill some manners and she eventually came to respect us “humans” but there was always that “me first” attitude. She, like many other Goldens, wanted attention and a paw in the lap was her first approach. Snapping at treats (and most food in general)… one had to be careful about handing her tasty morsels. Breaking her from that “I’ll go through the door first” habit was difficult. In as much work as she was, she still worked her way into our hearts and home.
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One of our fondest memories of Brandy is the day she came home from the groomer with pink bows in her ears. Knowing Brandy’s demeanor and temperament, pink bows just weren’t fitting for a tom-boy. She looked up at us with a happy “grin” as if to say “look at me! Aren’t I cute?” We laughed profusely that day and likely we will in the future. The attached picture pretty much tells the story.
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We have three other dogs, a Golden named Buddy who I adopted from Golden Bond, the Rat Terrier/Chihuahua we refer to as the “little man,” who we adopted from Puyallup animal rescue just this year, and a little Pomeranian named Millie. Millie was rescued by Old Dog Haven and “found us” on PetFinder.com. Brandy has been a huge help to little Millie, who was terrified of human contact. You see, Millie was likely a puppy mill dog and Brandy served as Millie’s mentor and guide through the human world. For that we are grateful. Millie has blossomed into a lovable little creature with Brandy’s help.
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It is with great regret that we said our final good-bye to Brandy. Greeting my husband at the door, she paused for one more petting and one more hug before collapsing on the floor. It was as if she waited to say good bye as well. We will miss Brandy, our little “PITA” dog. Things just won’t be the same without her.
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Here’s to all that take the time to rescue an unwanted and unloved animal.








Early Morning Open Thread: Travelling Buddy




From commentor GrammyPat:

April, 2010: … I give you Li’l Buddy. The first pic is of him four years ago (in all of his patient, 13 yr old, unflappable glory) with my granddaughter, the second is recent. He was not always so encumbered, but he has always been this sweet and tolerant. While he’s still with me, I want to honor his contributions to my flawed existence…although I still haven’t figured out exactly who was rescued by whom.
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Sixteen years ago, soon after losing my 18yr old Sammy dog to a car, I saw what looked like a black dust mop wandering (and totally oblivious to everything beyond the end of his nose) in the middle of the street in my native northern Kentucky. I was in the process of relocating to a ranch in the desert of southern New Mexico and the last thing that I needed was a little fru-fru dog. But there he was…and I wasn’t going to let someone find their baby like I had found my Sammy. I picked him up, spent the next two weeks making calls, putting up signs, taking him to every vet in the area, running ads…all to no avail. I was reluctant to give him a name and get attached to him because I truly expected someone to claim him so I’d just say “Come on, little buddy” whenever I had to run errands while preparing for the big move. When moving day came and no one had claimed him, I couldn’t just abandon him. So I loaded the 1yr old, 12 lb, poodle-lhasa apso mix into the moving van and off we went on our big adventure across the country. The nickname became his official name but he’s been called a lot of other things over the years: Pun’kin, Stinky, Damn-You-Dog, Sweetie Pete, and Old Man, among others.
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At that time, and ever since, he has taken everything in stride. He is the most stoic, big-hearted, good-natured, and even-tempered animal that I’ve ever encountered. His philosophy in life is, “If it doesn’t involve Food…it ain’t worth gettin’ excited about.” (Now that I think about it…That’s not a bad philosophy for all of us.) He gets along with everybody and everything…especially if the encounter involves Food. Feed him and he’ll be your “best friend in the whole, wide world” but then completely ignore you if/when the Food runs out. Over his long life, he has had a bite of everything that I’ve eaten…including fruits and vegetables. He has joyfully eaten raw broccoli and celery, sauerkraut, jalapenos, bananas, grapefruit, pickles, and would do back flips for strawberries.
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He attracts admirers wherever we go… Over the years I’ve had neighbors from the age of 4 to 84 knock on my door(s) to ask, “Can Buddy come out and play?” After meeting him, business associates on phone calls from around the country have inquired about him before asking about me or getting to the reason for the call. He has traveled with me without a whiff of anxiety regardless of the situation, mode, or locale. He’s accumulated more air miles than most people and would sit, holding up the security line while I got checked, until I called him to walk thru the scanner by himself. After getting a “pat-down” from TSA because his collar invariably set off the sensors, he would calmly climb back into his carry-on bag for the flight. If “Food” was his favorite word, then “Go” was a close second. Go…any where, any way, any time…it was all good.
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I’m sure you’re wondering about the contraption that he’s wearing in the second pic. Read more