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Pet Stories (Read 4047 times)
Morphy
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Pet Stories
May 30th, 2020 at 9:15pm
 
I was talking with a member about our favorite pets on IM and it occurred to me that we need a pet stories thread. Seems like we have a lot of animal lovers here. I’m sure we would love to hear some stories about why your favorite pets meant/mean so much to you.
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #1 - May 31st, 2020 at 4:19pm
 
I got so many stories. Especially since ispent almost a decade working in kennels, vet clinic, shelters and such. I have seen some funny, weird, and horrible things. I will try to remember a few good ones
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Rat Man
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #2 - 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.
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« Last Edit: Apr 8th, 2021 at 2:23pm by Rat Man »  

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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #3 - Jun 1st, 2020 at 9:42pm
 
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 were 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.  I 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.


Never heard you tell that story but I can relate. Dogs are so loyal and selfless. No one was going to hurt her buddy if she had anything to say about it. Amazing creatures... We don’t deserve them but I’m sure glad we have them.
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Rat Man
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #4 - Jun 6th, 2020 at 8:12pm
 
    Kali, the Husky in my profile picture, was demented.  Brilliant, but demented.  We rescued her from the pound.  In the pound she was a well behaved little angel.  We had no idea what we were bringing home.  She had been feral for much of her two years of life and was very much like a totally wild wolf.  For the first eight months we had her we'd have to keep a leash on her in the house or she'd create total mayhem.  Three or four nights a week  I'd have to sleep the entire night in the car with her because that's the only place she'd settle down.  In the beginning I'd have to walk her five times a day sometimes starting as early as 4:30 AM.  Over time I was gradually able to reduce that to two long walks up to seven miles each a day.  But we'd have to walk no matter the weather.  In fact the more horrible the weather the happier she was. Anyone in their right mind would have taken her back to the pound.  Fortunately for Kali I wasn't in my right mind.  Eventually over a long time  we reached a compromise so that life with her became mostly tolerable but she was never completely tame. 
    I didn't realize just how intelligent she was until she started inventing elaborate practical jokes to play on me.  They were constant.  She lived to bust my stones. 
    One example; we were visiting some friends who also had a dog.  In the middle of the visit I had to walk Kali to do her business.  At that time Kali had a habit of picking up stones and swallowing them just to mess with me.  I'd have to take her to the vet for an x-ray, which was getting to be a very expensive joke.  Plus it was upsetting because she had swallowed trash and had needed an operation to save her life.  That's another long story. Anyway, we were walking along and Kali had her mouth wide open.  I could see there was nothing in it.  Suddenly she stopped and acted like she was picking up some found object from the ground.  I grabbed her to try and shake it out before she could swallow it.  To my surprise it was a rawhide strip she had taken from the other dog's stash.  She hid it in the back of her throat the whole time we were walking just so she could pretend to be picking up random trash to mess with me.  That might seem like just a coincidence but she was constantly doing things like that until the day she died. 
    Another time I was playing my Dobro.  I use metal  fingerpicks when I play.  I took my fingerpicks off and she picked them up.  I watched as she "hid" them in her stash pile in the middle of the Livingroom.  Cute.  I went into the kitchen to get something then returned to retrieve my fingerpicks to continue playing.  They weren't there.  In the short time I was in the kitchen she moved them to another hiding place.  She watched with delight as I tore her stash pile apart looking for the picks.  I searched the entire Livingroom, cursing her the whole time.  They were nowhere to be found.  No more Dobro playing until I could make it to the music store.  Kali won.  Three days later I found the picks in a neat little pile in the middle of the hallway. 
     That was life with Kali.  She lived to bust humans' stones, particularly mine.  It was a constant assault.  She left me with enough material where I could literally write a book about her.  The strangest thing is that as big a butt pain as she was, she's the one I miss the most. 
   Here's a very old video of Kali being Kali.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RjTXC9kJuw
   
Edit:  The white  Husky in the video is Odin.  He wasn't being abused in any way.  Odin was quite used to Kali's shenanigans and was very capable of defending himself.   Though they loved each other they were both very strong alphas and consequently had six real fights during their lives together.  Odin won five of them.  Size matters. 
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« Last Edit: Jun 19th, 2020 at 2:54pm by Rat Man »  
 
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joe_meadmaker
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #5 - Jun 6th, 2020 at 10:14pm
 
Great stories Rat Man!

I don't have anything as entertaining, but I can give everyone the story of how Misty moved in with me.

I only have one neighbor.  In October few years back we started seeing this calico cat hanging around our houses.  Behind my house there is a path that goes back to the gas well.  Whenever I saw her, she was usually sitting on that path, just watching things.  The days went by and winter was approaching.  The cat was still hanging around, and my neighbors were concerned about her being out in the cold.  So they decided to try to take her in.

A few days later I was talking to my neighbor and he told me they had given her the boot.  He said she seemed friendly with people, but did not get along with their other cats.  They already had three.  At this point in time it was just before New Years and he asked me if I would be willing to take her in.  Otherwise they were going to take her to an animal rescue shelter.  I told him I would try.  I was going to be at a friend's house for New Years Eve, and I didn't want to put a stray cat in my house and then leave for the night.  Trying to catch her was put off until the following day.

At some point I went and bought some food, a little box, etc.  On New Years day I didn't see her until the evening.  I gave her some food and tried to make friends.  Once it started getting late, I caught her and brought her inside the house.  This did not make for a happy cat.  She wasn't aggressive.  She just paced around the house meowing, in a very 'crying' way.

I had to go to work the next day, and she would not be quiet.  Around 2:00 in the morning, I let her back outside so I could sleep.  The next morning she wasn't around but I left her some more food.  It was cold, but I figured I wasn't going to put her in the house and leave her alone anyway.  I went to work, uncertain of what to expect when I got back.  But later that evening when I got home, I saw her sitting on the porch waiting for me as I pulled in the driveway.  I knew at that point that our first step had been made.

It took a while before she got used to things.  But now she pretty much runs the house.  When people refer to me as her "daddy", I usually tell them no.  Misty is more like a bossy roommate who doesn't pay rent.  But she's also my buddy and I'm glad she moved in.  At least some of the time. Wink
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Rat Man
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #6 - Jun 7th, 2020 at 2:43pm
 
   Good story, Joe.  Sometimes strays make the best pets.  Poochie, the dog in my first story, was a feral mutt who moved in on us.  Also two of my favorite cats, Kayla the beautiful Turkish Angora and Mister my fat black Halloween cat,  were strays that picked us.
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #7 - Jul 12th, 2020 at 2:20pm
 
   This is a pet horror story. Three packs ago, before my multiple Huskies, I had my first pack.  This story takes place in the early 90s.  Back then Kate was a toddler and we had two dogs, a fierce Shepherd named Comet and a sweet natured Entlebucher (type of Swiss Mountain Dog... think Burnese with short fur) named Pokey. 
    One day Kate was rolling the ball for Pokey in the livingroom.  The ball rolled under the couch and Pokey stuck her head under to get it.  Suddenly I heard my late wife Marie scream "Oh my God!," Kate crying hysterically, and Pokey screaming like a banshee.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  There had been a lose spring hanging down from the bottom of the couch.  Somehow Pokey had gotten it hooked in her eye socket.  She was literally hanging from the spring by her eye. 
      For some reason when ever something too gross or horrible to imagine happens it's up to Dad to deal with it.  I had no idea what to do.  I picked up the couch with one hand and with my other arm I tried to maneuver Pokey into a position where I could hopefully pop the spring out.  Pokey was a large, unnaturally strong dog who was in a total panic.  Because of her screams Comet believed I was deliberately hurting Pokey and began attacking me.  Usually moments of complete panic and mayhem  like that last only a few seconds then something happens to change the situation.  Ten seconds passed.  No change.  I'm still wrestling a crazy strong dog with one arm and holding the couch up with another while an enraged German Shepherd is  trying to kill me. Twenty seconds... no change.  "This can't go on forever.  Something has to happen to change this situation!"  Suddenly Pokey gave a mighty pull with all of her  strength and yanked the spring from her eye socket. 
    I packed up Pokey, Marie, and Kate and we made an emergency run to the vet.  We were all certain that they were going to sew her eye shut and we were going to have a one eyed dog. 
     Miraculously just the socket and muscle around Pokey's eye were damaged.  The eye itself wasn't damaged all that badly.  We returned home.  If ever I needed that drink it was that day.  JD straight up.  Everyone was frazzled... the humans, dogs, even the cats were freaked out.  Eventually she recovered completely.   
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« Last Edit: Jul 15th, 2020 at 4:15pm by Rat Man »  
 
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #8 - Sep 4th, 2020 at 3:54pm
 
   Both the leashes in my Kali and Odin video above were made by yours truly.  They are fashioned after the Rockman sling.  Basically they are a giant Rockman but with no retention cord.  The collar clip is on the end of the release cord and the pouch is the handle.  I made the first of these leashes as sort of a joke.  When I used it I really liked it.  Many years later Rockman leashes are the only kind I use. 
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« Last Edit: Sep 13th, 2020 at 2:40pm by Rat Man »  
 
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #9 - Apr 4th, 2021 at 10:33pm
 
    This story is about a dog who wasn't mine.  In fact to this day I don't know who's dog she was. 
     When I was a young man I used to hunt.  Early one morning I was headed out on a hunting trip in my big, beautiful LDT sedan with some friends from Berlin, the town I was living in at the time.  After I picked up the last guy we drove up to a Golden Retriever sitting on a corner minding her own business.  One of the guys, Bob, my future brother in law, said "Hey, stop. I know that dog.  That's Goldie.  She's a great hunter.  So I stopped and called Goldie.  "Come on, girl.  Let's go hunting."  Goldie knew those words quite well and jumped into my car.  I was dognapping Goldie.
     Bob was right.  Goldie pointed, tracked, and retrieved like a pro.  She was wonderful.  We hunted her hard all day and she loved it.  At the end of the day we stopped at the supermarket and bought her dinner.  Then we took her back to the same corner where we found her and dropped her off.  Her owners were never the wiser.
     I can't remember how many times we stole Goldie for the day because this was about forty eight years ago but we did it at least a half a dozen times.  She LOVEDDDDD to hunt and was supremely good at it.  She was none the worse for wear and her owners never knew. 
    In retrospect it was a stupid thing to do but she was a great hunter, she was a joy to have along, and she greatly increased our success.  I wish she had been my dog. 

Edit:  after all this time I finally found out who's dog Goldie was.  Today I was texting with one of the guys who was part of my hunting party. He remembered taking Goldie hunting without permission.  The Reeves family owned her.  After 48 years I finally know who's dog I was borrowing/stealing.  Goldie was probably the best dog I ever hunted with.
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #10 - Jun 30th, 2021 at 2:31pm
 
Poochie was the only feral dog I ever saw who was fat.  She didn't really need us. She was doing just fine on her own.  She just decided she was going to be our dog.  At the age of four she moved in on us. We fed her well but she never gave up her feral ways. She would eat rabbits, squirrels, cats, racoons, etc.. lots of them.  For some reason she always gave me the back half of her murdered cats.  "Gee, thanks, Poochie." She would also pick blueberries and huckleberries off the bush like a bear and she ate windfall apples.  She wasn't above raiding a trash can.  She was known as The Mayor of Pine Hill because she was present at every barbeque in town, begging what ever she could get.  She was an amazing, resourceful, brilliant animal.   Just as Kali's entire intellect was used to head **** me, Poochie was all about getting food. She was a genius when it came to feeding her face. 
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #11 - Jun 30th, 2021 at 3:34pm
 
I don't know why I didn't comment on this thread beforehand but I have a couple of different stories.

I'll go in chronological order.

I had 2 pet rats, a albino one (Biscuit) and a brown one (Chocolate) and one thing we did for them is put them in a large plastic box with these wooden blocks of different shapes from to play around on. Chocolate, who was far more athletic than the very fat and lazy Biscuit, jumped onto the edge of the box then jumped onto my leg. She then climbed my leg, under my shorts, up onto my back, then popped out from under my shirt and sat on my shoulder. The whole time this was going on I was wincing from her claws digging in Cheesy Rats make for great pets. I might have to get them again some day.

Second story I've told before. We were out walking my girlfriend-now-wife's family corgis when they went bolting off into the bushes barking. We tried calling them back and one did stop (Milli) but Tomu had charged on. We saw through the bushes that there was a large hairy lump, that Tomu went up to and poked with her nose. The animal turned and hissed at Tomu, who was very confused, then ambled off into the woods and disappeared. We tried to understand what we had just seen and quickly realised it was a wolverine. Now, this was in Helsinki, granted a rural area, but wolverines are usually nowhere near this far south. No-one believed us and thought we must have mistaken it for something else but the shape of it's ears, it's size, the way it walked, all pointed to it being a wolverine. And then a few months later, more reports in the same area came out and it was confirmed a wolverine was hanging around. Ah, sweet vindication!

When my girlfriend-now-wife's family got a new dog (Keksi) after Tomu died (not by wolverine, but cancer). We were at the summer cottage with her and she was having a blast. As an excitable puppy, all the smells and great outdoor places to explore were like heaven. She was so adorable. I actually remember her chasing after a butterfly. It was like a Disney animation come to life. My now-father-in-law, took Keksi onto the jetty that stuck out into the lake to sit and read for a bit and give the puppy some strokes. Keksi had other ideas and wanted to explore this mysterious lake. She had never been swimming before and didn't really understand what the lake was which lead to me watching her confidently stride to the edge of the jetty... and then confidently attempt to stride out onto the lake. It was hilarious. The image of this little puppy stepping out and just dropping like a stone into the water, near brought me to tears of laughter. Once she was rescued and dried off, she was a little more wary of the lake Cheesy
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You are a great guy Kick but also slightly scary at times. - Morphy
"Nothing matters, but it’s perhaps more comfortable to keep calm and not interfere with other people." - H.P. Lovecraft, in a letter to Frank Belknap Long, 7 October, 1923
 
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #12 - Jul 1st, 2021 at 11:01am
 
After over 40 years and 9 dogs - yeah I've got a few stories.

I'll start with the latest.
Phoebe is my dog.
I picked her because of the seven near identical rescued pups at th dogstrust, she was the only one who had managed to remove her coloured identity collar.

The kennel lady reckoned it was the fastest puppy pick she'd ever seen.

Right from the start Phoebe was both lazy and exceptionally good at working things out.

The first day we left her alone she was about 8 weeks old.
She was in an enclosure with a lid held on with two crossed bungee cords pulled extremely tight.
When we got back phoebe was no longer in the enclosure and initially we could not see the bungee cords.
Turns out she'd bitten through them both.
After the first one had gone 'spang' you would have thought it would have put her off. Nope. Bit through the second and then pushed one half of the roof off and climbed out.
Picture shows bitten bungee cords and how we found the enclosure.
Phoebe is at the side of it.

6 years later.
She was at the vets for a 4 week checkup after having a cruciate ligament operation.
Because of covid I had to stay in the waiting room while the vet took her into the exam room and removed her stitches.

5 minutes later the exam room door opens and phoebe comes out and come over to me. Tail wagging and extremely pleased with herself.
A little later the door opens again and the vet comes out looking a bit non-plussed.

Turns out after he; taken the stitches out, he;d turned away to enter something into the computer, at which point phoebe presssed the door release pad to unlock the door and escaped !

On previous visits she'd clearly noted how the door opened and decided to let herself out.

She's also the only dog we've ever had who does not fart.
Not once, not ever. Not even after eating entire wild animals:  skin,fur, bones the lot.

Just does not fart.

Ruffy - our original italian spinone, used to run away from his farts.
He'd fart, look round in fright and run. Extremely funny Smiley
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #13 - Jul 1st, 2021 at 6:56pm
 
Great stories, guys.  Yes, Kick, when most people think of rats they think of sewer rats.  "Yuck, rats!"   Domestic rats are clean, very intelligent, loving pets.  The same  people who would gladly own Guinea Pigs or Rabbits will trash rats.  Rats are much more intelligent and clean.  As some of you know I have had literally hundreds.  Some day, if I live that long, after the dogs have passed I'll probably get a rat again.
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Re: Pet Stories
Reply #14 - Jul 2nd, 2021 at 8:29am
 
Not a story but my parent’s dog has 9 nipples.
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