Dog Owners.

[Lady Whistledown]

there ya go....my staffies name is Harley (cos he is david's son) ....can you see what I did there?

I assumed it was Harley after Ryan.

 

[Muhammad - I’m hard - Bruce Lee]

I assumed it was Harley after Ryan.

look....don't ruin my jokes just cos you got PICKED on ok?

 

[SeagullSongs]

I'm not a fan of dogs. They are all instinctively primed by nature to try and kill me.

Last night, I was on my way home from work down at about 1:30am. As I drove down a dark country lane, I spotted a pair of eyes and some kind of large animal in the middle of the road. At first, I thought it was a deer, so I slowed right down, anticipating not only the one, but the inevitable Bambi family members emerging from the hedgerow into the beams of my headlights. At this point, I realise it was a MONSTROUS, Hound of the Baskervilles style dog, no idea of the breed, but it was large, black with brown trim, and scary looking, with EVIL eyes and extremely pointy looking teeth.

As I slowly inched forward, it loped off into the front garden of a nearby cottage. I was going to just drive off, but then it occurred to me that it might do the same to the next car that came along, and despite my deeply rooted belief that all dogs are bastards, I didn't want it to get pancaked by some other poor driver. So I stopped the car, with the cunning plan of knocking on the door of the house and seeing if the dog was theirs. I know it was the small hours, but I was sure they'd prefer to be woken briefly than to get up at 7am and find Satan/Fido lying cold and stiff by the roadside.

I got out of the car, at which point it dawned on me just how completely dark and quiet the lane was. My plan to venture into the garden and knock on the door was rapidly amended to simply closing the garden gate, so that wherever the dog had gone, it couldn't run into the road again. I stepped tentatively across the lane towards the garden, working my way towards the shadow of the hedge around the front. I got to within a couple of metres of the gate when it further occured to me that I had absolutely no idea where the fiendish canine was, and that it could well be watching me at that very moment, viewing my presence on its turf as a threat, and thus hatching terrifying plans to consume me whole, leaving only my abandoned car, hazard lights blinking plaintively in the blackness.

I decided instead to return to my car and call the police, thus reducing the odds of me being savaged and loading them heavily on to some burly local constable with a metal baton and a can of pepper spray. It was at this point that I heard a low, deeply sinister growling noise coming from a spot approximately two to three metres in front of me. Almost simultaneously, the beast let out a monstrous volley of barking and LAUNCHED its furry, salivating self through/over the gate and towards me.

I can confirm from the comfort of my computer that I never, ever knew I was physically capable of emitting such a girly scream as I did at that moment, nor that I could ever in my wildest dreams run so fast. I doubt that even Flo Jo in her most testosterone-aided phase could have caught me as I sprinted across the road to my car, ever aware of the skittering noise of its claws on the tarmac, pursuing me with only one aim. Fumbling with the central locking, I managed to open the door at the second attempt and hurl myself inside, slamming it shut. It then strutted around outside my car, barking and growling in my direction.

Fortunately, at this point, I noticed curtains twitching in the house. Clearly, the sound of Satan/Fido planning my imminent death outside had finally woken them from their slumber. About bloody time. Just then I saw headlights approaching around the bend, and a van came around the corner. The Hound was so busy contemplating what I would taste like that it failed to move until the last possible second, and bounced off the side of the van, despite the driver's obvious attempts to avoid him. Fortunately- for the beast, if not for me- it appeared to suffer few ill effects. I did explain what had happened to the owner, who seemed entirely relaxed about things.

Naturally, our conversation ended with that line most beloved of owners of Evil Dogs: "Haha, he's just a big softy really"

Dog owners can never, ever begin to grasp the concept that not everybody shares in their adoration of pets. So by way of contribution to this debate, I am very much in favour of dogs being chipped. And pulped, and scattered over rose bushes.

A truly magic post.

Read it all with a big smile across my face, but the line "Haha, he's just a big softy really" got me good.

 

[Lady Whistledown]

A truly magic post.

Read it all with a big smile across my face, but the line "Haha, he's just a big softy really" got me good.

They always, always say that to you. They just cannot comprehend that some people might be a small bit fearful of dogs. They can't ever grasp that a person might not appreciate Fido licking them enthusiastically.

"He won't bite!", they say. It's not the biting that bothers me (well, ok, just a small bit), more the fact that five minutes previously, the same doggy tongue was probably licking its own arse, or another dog's arse, or a big pile of fox crap. Mmmmmm. Tasty

 

[KZNSeagull]

They always, always say that to you. They just cannot comprehend that some people might be a small bit fearful of dogs. They can't ever grasp that a person might not appreciate Fido licking them enthusiastically.

"He won't bite!", they say. It's not the biting that bothers me (well, ok, just a small bit), more the fact that five minutes previously, the same doggy tongue was probably licking its own arse, or another dog's arse, or a big pile of fox crap. Mmmmmm. Tasty

Whilst I am a keen dog owner, I cannot understand some dog owners.

My wife was at home the other day when one of our dogs started barking at the back door in a "come and help" type way. My wife went outside to find that next doors Bulldog had stuck it's head through the fence and had grabbed one of our labs by the scruff of the neck and was shaking her. Our little Jack Russell was busy biting this Bulldog in the face, blood everywhere, whilst my wife ran to got a broom to whack the Bulldog on the back of the neck. It eventually let go.

The neighbour eventually came home and was very apologetic. She was not sure how it had got out of it's enclosure, but gave the usual story of how it is a sweet dog really and probably got carried away. This same dog KILLED a cow that was given to the same neighbour as a present! A bloody great Cow! She is the only one that can go near this dog and I hate to think what will happen if one of her kids goes near it. I suspect she will be sorry if it happens though. It has to have it's own enclosure as she has other dogs that it will attack if they are together.

Why would anyone want to own a dog like that? Bizarre.
Anyway, Dog lick is very good for you - it is a bit like snail slime and good for age spots and wrinkles!

 

[Cheshire Cat]

I tried to PROTECT it too Next time, I'm just flooring it and running the ungrateful bastard over.

Why were you calling the local rozzers. I thought that was you?

 

[Cheshire Cat]

They can't ever grasp that a person might not appreciate Fido licking them enthusiastically.

You might want to rephrase that.

 

[Bold Seagull]

I don't have a problem with dogs, just dog owners. Not all of them, but a lot of them.

PICK UP YOUR DOG'S SHITS FFS!!!

 

[Mtoto]

I'm not a fan of dogs. They are all instinctively primed by nature to try and kill me.

Last night, I was on my way home from work down at about 1:30am. As I drove down a dark country lane, I spotted a pair of eyes and some kind of large animal in the middle of the road. At first, I thought it was a deer, so I slowed right down, anticipating not only the one, but the inevitable Bambi family members emerging from the hedgerow into the beams of my headlights. At this point, I realise it was a MONSTROUS, Hound of the Baskervilles style dog, no idea of the breed, but it was large, black with brown trim, and scary looking, with EVIL eyes and extremely pointy looking teeth.

As I slowly inched forward, it loped off into the front garden of a nearby cottage. I was going to just drive off, but then it occurred to me that it might do the same to the next car that came along, and despite my deeply rooted belief that all dogs are bastards, I didn't want it to get pancaked by some other poor driver. So I stopped the car, with the cunning plan of knocking on the door of the house and seeing if the dog was theirs. I know it was the small hours, but I was sure they'd prefer to be woken briefly than to get up at 7am and find Satan/Fido lying cold and stiff by the roadside.

I got out of the car, at which point it dawned on me just how completely dark and quiet the lane was. My plan to venture into the garden and knock on the door was rapidly amended to simply closing the garden gate, so that wherever the dog had gone, it couldn't run into the road again. I stepped tentatively across the lane towards the garden, working my way towards the shadow of the hedge around the front. I got to within a couple of metres of the gate when it further occured to me that I had absolutely no idea where the fiendish canine was, and that it could well be watching me at that very moment, viewing my presence on its turf as a threat, and thus hatching terrifying plans to consume me whole, leaving only my abandoned car, hazard lights blinking plaintively in the blackness.

I decided instead to return to my car and call the police, thus reducing the odds of me being savaged and loading them heavily on to some burly local constable with a metal baton and a can of pepper spray. It was at this point that I heard a low, deeply sinister growling noise coming from a spot approximately two to three metres in front of me. Almost simultaneously, the beast let out a monstrous volley of barking and LAUNCHED its furry, salivating self through/over the gate and towards me.

I can confirm from the comfort of my computer that I never, ever knew I was physically capable of emitting such a girly scream as I did at that moment, nor that I could ever in my wildest dreams run so fast. I doubt that even Flo Jo in her most testosterone-aided phase could have caught me as I sprinted across the road to my car, ever aware of the skittering noise of its claws on the tarmac, pursuing me with only one aim. Fumbling with the central locking, I managed to open the door at the second attempt and hurl myself inside, slamming it shut. It then strutted around outside my car, barking and growling in my direction.

Fortunately, at this point, I noticed curtains twitching in the house. Clearly, the sound of Satan/Fido planning my imminent death outside had finally woken them from their slumber. About bloody time. Just then I saw headlights approaching around the bend, and a van came around the corner. The Hound was so busy contemplating what I would taste like that it failed to move until the last possible second, and bounced off the side of the van, despite the driver's obvious attempts to avoid him. Fortunately- for the beast, if not for me- it appeared to suffer few ill effects. I did explain what had happened to the owner, who seemed entirely relaxed about things.

Naturally, our conversation ended with that line most beloved of owners of Evil Dogs: "Haha, he's just a big softy really"

Dog owners can never, ever begin to grasp the concept that not everybody shares in their adoration of pets. So by way of contribution to this debate, I am very much in favour of dogs being chipped. And pulped, and scattered over rose bushes.

- - - Updated - - -

It looked very much like this, by the way.

View attachment 39387

- - - Updated - - -

It looked very much like this, by the way.

View attachment 39387

A few years ago I was driving around rural Ireland after dark, trying to find the stable of a racehorse trainer which was, like many of the racing yards there, basically going to be a farm with a few boxes for horses out the back.
By 7pm, it was pitch black. No street lights, no cats-eyes in the road, nothing but an occasional tiny chink of light through the curtains of a cottage set well back from the road. Eventually I fancied I could see the shape of a building against the skyline in pretty much the place I expected the stable to be, at the end of a very long, very narrow lane.
At the end of it there was indeed a small farm, but no sign of human habitation at all. What did appear, at the edge of the headlight beam, was a pair of snarling, dribbling, super-sized hell-hounds with hatred in their eyes.
My thoughts over the next few seconds were something like this: “Nope, this isn’t it. Hope I don't have to reverse all the way back down that path …… Blimey, it is just soooooo quiet here, and so deeply, incredibly dark … hmmm, where did those dogs disappear to? …”
At that moment, the pair of them launched themselves out of the dark at the drivers’ side window, teeth bared and howling at 120 decibels. To this day I’m still baffled that I wasn’t found a couple of days later after being reported missing, stiff as a board at the wheel of the hire car with my face twisted into a death mask of total, insane terror. And since I’m useless at reversing, I don’t know how I managed to get back down to the road faster than Colin McRae would have done it either.
Put me off dogs, and County Kilkenny, for life.

 

[withdeanwombat]

I'd have that checked.It was probably a horse.

 

[Trufflehound]

"He won't bite!", they say.

[yt]Ue0fZfwHfzo[/yt]

 

[Lady Whistledown]

Why were you calling the local rozzers. I thought that was you?

I was on my way home, I do get time off, you know.

 

[chucky1973]

I'm not a fan of dogs. They are all instinctively primed by nature to try and kill me.

Last night, I was on my way home from work down at about 1:30am. As I drove down a dark country lane, I spotted a pair of eyes and some kind of large animal in the middle of the road. At first, I thought it was a deer, so I slowed right down, anticipating not only the one, but the inevitable Bambi family members emerging from the hedgerow into the beams of my headlights. At this point, I realise it was a MONSTROUS, Hound of the Baskervilles style dog, no idea of the breed, but it was large, black with brown trim, and scary looking, with EVIL eyes and extremely pointy looking teeth.

As I slowly inched forward, it loped off into the front garden of a nearby cottage. I was going to just drive off, but then it occurred to me that it might do the same to the next car that came along, and despite my deeply rooted belief that all dogs are bastards, I didn't want it to get pancaked by some other poor driver. So I stopped the car, with the cunning plan of knocking on the door of the house and seeing if the dog was theirs. I know it was the small hours, but I was sure they'd prefer to be woken briefly than to get up at 7am and find Satan/Fido lying cold and stiff by the roadside.

I got out of the car, at which point it dawned on me just how completely dark and quiet the lane was. My plan to venture into the garden and knock on the door was rapidly amended to simply closing the garden gate, so that wherever the dog had gone, it couldn't run into the road again. I stepped tentatively across the lane towards the garden, working my way towards the shadow of the hedge around the front. I got to within a couple of metres of the gate when it further occured to me that I had absolutely no idea where the fiendish canine was, and that it could well be watching me at that very moment, viewing my presence on its turf as a threat, and thus hatching terrifying plans to consume me whole, leaving only my abandoned car, hazard lights blinking plaintively in the blackness.

I decided instead to return to my car and call the police, thus reducing the odds of me being savaged and loading them heavily on to some burly local constable with a metal baton and a can of pepper spray. It was at this point that I heard a low, deeply sinister growling noise coming from a spot approximately two to three metres in front of me. Almost simultaneously, the beast let out a monstrous volley of barking and LAUNCHED its furry, salivating self through/over the gate and towards me.

I can confirm from the comfort of my computer that I never, ever knew I was physically capable of emitting such a girly scream as I did at that moment, nor that I could ever in my wildest dreams run so fast. I doubt that even Flo Jo in her most testosterone-aided phase could have caught me as I sprinted across the road to my car, ever aware of the skittering noise of its claws on the tarmac, pursuing me with only one aim. Fumbling with the central locking, I managed to open the door at the second attempt and hurl myself inside, slamming it shut. It then strutted around outside my car, barking and growling in my direction.

Fortunately, at this point, I noticed curtains twitching in the house. Clearly, the sound of Satan/Fido planning my imminent death outside had finally woken them from their slumber. About bloody time. Just then I saw headlights approaching around the bend, and a van came around the corner. The Hound was so busy contemplating what I would taste like that it failed to move until the last possible second, and bounced off the side of the van, despite the driver's obvious attempts to avoid him. Fortunately- for the beast, if not for me- it appeared to suffer few ill effects. I did explain what had happened to the owner, who seemed entirely relaxed about things.

Naturally, our conversation ended with that line most beloved of owners of Evil Dogs: "Haha, he's just a big softy really"

Dog owners can never, ever begin to grasp the concept that not everybody shares in their adoration of pets. So by way of contribution to this debate, I am very much in favour of dogs being chipped. And pulped, and scattered over rose bushes.

- - - Updated - - -

It looked very much like this, by the way.

View attachment 39387

- - - Updated - - -

It looked very much like this, by the way.

View attachment 39387

has turned a really shit day in the office into a bearable day. I generally did laugh loudly. I might even go to the pub now with a smile.

 

[Lady Whistledown]

has turned a really shit day in the office into a bearable day. I generally did laugh loudly. I might even go to the pub now with a smile.

You're welcome

I only hope- for my own self respect- that I don't drive past the house later & realise the dog is actually a poodle.

 

[Surrey Seagull]

Poodles can be quite vicious, had one on my old walk when I worked for the Post Office back in the day. Damn thing would always have a go at me.

 

[glasfryn]

Whilst I am a keen dog owner, I cannot understand some dog owners.

My wife was at home the other day when one of our dogs started barking at the back door in a "come and help" type way. My wife went outside to find that next doors Bulldog had stuck it's head through the fence and had grabbed one of our labs by the scruff of the neck and was shaking her. Our little Jack Russell was busy biting this Bulldog in the face, blood everywhere, whilst my wife ran to got a broom to whack the Bulldog on the back of the neck. It eventually let go.

The neighbour eventually came home and was very apologetic. She was not sure how it had got out of it's enclosure, but gave the usual story of how it is a sweet dog really and probably got carried away. This same dog KILLED a cow that was given to the same neighbour as a present! A bloody great Cow! She is the only one that can go near this dog and I hate to think what will happen if one of her kids goes near it. I suspect she will be sorry if it happens though. It has to have it's own enclosure as she has other dogs that it will attack if they are together.

Why would anyone want to own a dog like that? Bizarre.
Anyway, Dog lick is very good for you - it is a bit like snail slime and good for age spots and wrinkles!

we love Jack Russell's
real little characters our little one was a soft little girl but any dog taking the p*ss would get its nose bitten

 

[Lady Whistledown]

Poodles can be quite vicious, had one on my old walk when I worked for the Post Office back in the day. Damn thing would always have a go at me.

Oh, no doubt, but that said, even I would struggle to feel intimidated by a dog that models its hair on Limahl.

 

[chucky1973]

You're welcome

I only hope- for my own self respect- that I don't drive past the house later & realise the dog is actually a poodle.

but if you do and it is, please let us know. it would be a good end to a great story!

- - - Updated - - -

You're welcome

I only hope- for my own self respect- that I don't drive past the house later & realise the dog is actually a poodle.

but if you do and it is, please let us know. it would be a good end to a great story!