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Post by Deleted on Jul 5, 2014 20:19:19 GMT 1
Crackin' job, southpork. Thanks for posting.
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Post by lib on Jul 7, 2014 18:25:50 GMT 1
I have a dog, (or maybe he has me). He seems to like me a bit, but he has shown no interest in joining in my hobby of imbibing Guinness. Shame.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2014 10:20:31 GMT 1
You know that he likes you more than a bit, lib....
Try him on Real Ale. Never fails. Then make sure he gets his round in. It doesn't do to pamper them either. Only wimmin expect that, and look at the mess that turns out to be....
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2014 14:18:55 GMT 1
Incidentally, after an unpleasant incident on the road last night, when a young buck in a banger blasted his horn at me then pulled in right in front of me, because I wasn't doing 90, implying that I should 'get my finger out', before slamming on his brakes because of the bend coming up, which I knew about, on reaching home Jake greeted me with his customary enthousiasm, foul mood though I was in....
It's not possible to be so greeted and stay in a foul mood. So delirious is he just to see me that all recollections of a numpty on the road disappear. A glass of whisky and an old-fashioned fuss for the dog replace all bad thoughts. I owe my dog. For the love that he brings, for the love that he gives, and for the love he brings out of me...
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2014 9:19:43 GMT 1
One of my rescue dogs was a starvation case. Another one was 'only' badly under-fed. Following a tip-off from a charity I went to see the starvation case, living in a suburban flat, with another dog, unknown to the charity.
I don't blame the owner. She was probably learning-disabled. Her dogs were bags of bones, but she couldn't manage "because of the mess they made in the flat".
One of the dogs was so weak it couldn't get into my car, without my lifting him in.
I took them both. They were mates, probably the only positive thing in their lives.
The first time I took them out into the countryside, and came across sheep, one of them lunged at the fence, frantic to get at them. Immediately he got from me a severe rebuke. Never from that moment did he lunge at sheep again. We would walk through fields of sheep, the dogs off the leads, and they would walk in single file behind me. They did not want to p*ss me off, and understood that chasing sheep was a no-no.
Having had such a cr*p start in life their gratitude for the kindness I showed them was overwhelming. Provided they understood the limits, they stayed within them, because a happy co-existence with me was what they wanted. I'm not sentimental when it comes to rescue dogs. Don't get one out of a sense of kindness alone. Get one instead out of what that animal will give you in return. Devotion. Unlike pampered pedigrees, they know how sh*t life can be.
Nor believe that kindness alone from you is enough. A strict authority is also what they need. So that they settle in their new place, comfortable that they fit in with you. In public, with my dogs, I'm a strict disciplinarian, in private, I'm a blubbering mess...
Parallels exist when it comes to human beings. Having worked with young offenders and the unemployed, utter scum-bags in some people's eyes, their cr*p start in life puts them where they are. They're no less responsive to kindness and discipline, in equal measure. Please believe me. The World takes on a different aspect if you do...
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