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Pet Stories (Read 4767 times)
Morphy
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #15 - Jul 2nd, 2021 at 9:22am
 
I had a dog that only had 7! Thats where it went!
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Rat Man
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #16 - Aug 16th, 2021 at 9:25pm
 
   When I was 19 I worked as an apartment complex maintenance man.  An apartment was included as part of my pay.  This was at a place called Grove Gardens in West Depford, New Jersey.  God knows what it's called now.  Or if it's even still there.  Most of the apartment buildings were in a huge circle.  There were three sort of extra ones set in a little horseshoe design outside of the circle. My apartment was in one of these buildings.
    During that time I had a small female German Shepherd named Schnitzel.  She was very bright but extremely mischievous.
    One day I was walking home after a day's work.  I entered the yard inside of the horseshoe and noticed all of the local dogs having a ball, having a major gang tug of war with stolen laundry.  I laughed to myself that they must have torn down some poor saps clothesline. 
      I entered my second story apartment and Schnitzel looked guilty as hell.  What crime did she commit?  She went into my bedroom, opened my underware drawer, pushed open the sliding screen door that opened onto the balcony, took every piece of my underware, and dropped them all down to the pack of dogs waiting below.  She was waiting for me to kill her but all I could do was laugh.
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Curious Aardvark
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #17 - Aug 31st, 2021 at 6:58am
 
Sounds like she was punishing you for leaving her Smiley
when she was a puppy, Phoebe used to chew up my things when I went out.

Never anything that belonged to anyone else, just the stiff with my scent on.
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Do All things with Honour and Generosity: Regret Nothing, Envy None, Apologise Seldom and Bow your head to No One  - works for me Smiley
 
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Rat Man
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #18 - Feb 13th, 2022 at 9:04am
 
Rat Man wrote on May 31st, 2020 at 11:58pm:
   I've told this story here before but it's been a while and many members weren't here then.  This is probably my favorite of many pet stories.  I was seven or eight.  My little sister and I were riding our bikes by the woods near the Pine Valley Golf Course.  A very tiny, very old lady walked out the golf course gate with two gigantic off leash German Shepherds.  These guys were the size of ponies. 
   Suddenly one of the Shepherds bolted toward me.  The old lady started cackling "Fritzy,  Fritzy," but Fritzy didn't give a rat's butt about her.  He just kept coming, his buddy following him.  I tried to pedal away but Fritzy started biting my foot so I couldn't get any speed up.  Even if I could have built up a head of steam that would still leave my sister Donna there.  Fritzy had a sadistic look in his eyes.  He was enjoying my terror.  He was the cat and I was the mouse.  There was no one around, no help anywhere, and I was screwed.  I knew that at best this was going to really hurt.  Maybe I would die.
      Out of the corner if my eye I caught a streak of movement coming out of the woods.  It was my fat mutt Poochie tearing ass like a torpedo straight toward Fritzy.  For a big girl Poochie could really move.   Poochie was in a righteous rage.  "Not my kids, assholes!"  Without  slowing down a step she  plowed into Fritzy with what could best be described as a Football cross body block, sending him sprawling.  Poochie didn't wait to find out what Fritzy's buddy's intentions were.  She  tore into him like a windmill in cyclone.  My last vision of Fritzy and his buddy was the two of them running for their lives with their tails between their legs back into Pine Valley with Poochie in hot pursuit. 
     There are moments in our lives that change us forever.  For me this was one.  From that day on I saw dogs in a different light.  Of her own free will Poochie risked her life to save Donna and I.  She was a real hero.  She was my hero.

Edit:  I found a picture of Poochie.  This would  be about five years after the incident described above.  That's my sister Donna in the picture with my nieces in the background.


   Well this is really strange.  An old friend from back in the day contacted me on Fascistbook.  He knew and cared for the two German Shepherds who came after me.  Their names are Fritz and Tina.  It's nuts hearing about this sixty years after the fact:

    Frank Kemble
Meet Fritz and Tina with me in the middle. November 1965
They belonged to one of the multi-millionaires that kept a house there. Mr. Herbert J Adair ( an assembly line manufacturer with his company making and assembling automatic (job cutting) innovation.
His house was named Stone Hall.
My dad worked for him for close to 20 years and I went in with him most weekends and often in the summer. Mr Adair spent his spring’s there, his summer in Florida, his fall in the German Alps and winter on the Mediterranean. He had houses in all those locations. He had two maids and a wife that went everywhere with him. It was one of the maids walking the dogs that day. They fussed over me bringing me drinks and ice cream when I was there.
I walked the dogs every time I was in there. I had to stay away from that 3rd Ave gate and the fairways. Fritz would chase after golf balls on the course.
    Fritz is the dark one and Tina is the lighter colored one. They are both full blooded German Shepards and we’re actually born in Germany.
    Sorry I wasn’t there that day. I also had to cook their dinner every day. 5 pounds horse meat, green beans and a jug of beef gravy.
    Gary, they were brother and sister.
   

      How very strange it is to learn this about an episode from so long ago.  You can see I wasn't exaggerating.  These were some big dogs.  Poochie kicked both their asses.
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« Last Edit: Feb 22nd, 2022 at 5:18pm by Rat Man »  

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Rat Man
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #19 - Mar 18th, 2023 at 1:35pm
 
   I've had three dogs who had been feral before I rescued/adopted them.  Odin was one.  Odin was five when I rescued him from the pound.  He had escaped from his previous owner so many times that he had a $5000.00 recovery bill that she couldn't afford to pay.  So he became mine.
    Feral dogs act different from other dogs.  They have an edge to them.  There are lines you don't cross.  Also they're very opportunistic when it comes to scavenging.  Putrid meat that normal dogs wouldn't touch is just fine to them.  They will eat stuff that will gag a maggot. 
     On one of my walks with Odin and Kali Odin discovered the carcass of ?something?  It was too far gone to tell what sort of animal it once was.  It could have been a rabbit, cat, raccoon, opossum... I have no idea.  It was beyond putrid.  It was slimy, smelly,  and disgusting.  What a prize!  I tried to get him to drop it right then and there but he was having none of that. 
    At the time we lived on the upper floor of a duplex.  There was a common breezeway entrance.  Odin caried his prize into the breezeway and the battle began.  Two large, determined alpha males butting heads.  Dad vs Odin. He was going to carry his prize upstairs and I wasn't going to allow it. 
    No verbal command could make him let go of it.  When his attention wandered I'd make a grab for it but the carcass was so slimy I couldn't get a good grip.  For a half an hour this went on.  I'd keep telling him to drop it in a menacing voice until his attention wandered, I'd make a grab for it, and the slimy mess would slip out of my hands. 
     There can be only one pack leader in a house with three, counting Kali, strong alphas or mayhem will ensue.  I was, am, and always will be the pack leader. I was going to take that rotting body from Odin if it took the rest of the day.  After forty minutes I made another grab.  This time I got my hands around the head... finally a good grip.  I had to literally lift Odin completely off of the floor and hold him there before he finally let go.  I managed to slip out the door with it, leaving Odin inside the breezeway, and threw the dead animal in the garbage.  Odin was crushed.
     This was just one of the many times Odin and I butted heads.  Somehow he knew that a huge, snow white, blue eyed Husky was something special.  He acted like royalty and all other dogs and surprisingly most people kowtowed to him.  I picked my battles with him carefully because they were never easy.  This was one I was going to win, period.
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« Last Edit: Apr 2nd, 2023 at 2:36pm by Rat Man »  

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joe_meadmaker
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #20 - Mar 18th, 2023 at 7:50pm
 
A majestic name for a majestic looking dog!

But maybe not so majestic behavior...  Grin
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