Please tell us your Dog Tales.

Joy Gough

THE BURGLAR !!

He shone his flashlight around looking for valuables and when he picked up a CD Player to place in his sack, a strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark saying, "Jesus is watching you".

The burglar nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight off and froze.

When he heard nothing more, after a short while, he shook his head, promised himself a vacation after the next big score, then clicked the light back on and began searching for more valuables.

Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, as clear as a bell, he heard, "Jesus is watching you".

Freaked out, he shone his light around frantically, looking for the source of the voice. Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight beam came to rest on a parrot.

"Did you say that?" he hissed at the parrot.

"Yep", the parrot confessed, then squawked, "I am just trying to warn you".

The burglar relaxed. "Warn me huh! Who the heck are you"?

"Moses," replied the bird.

"Moses?" the burglar laughed.

"What kind of stupid person would name a parrot Moses?"

The bird promptly answered,

"Probably the same kind of person that would name a Rottweiler, Jesus..."

Creation of a Rottweiler

Once upon a time, long, long ago, before Mankind and Dogdom learned to love one another, the Grand Canine Council of Eight, which govern the fate of all dogs, called an important meeting. It had been decided that the governing of dogs would be more easily accomplished if each dog was designated by the name of his choice and each breed could then select a prototype to portray breed characteristics. This action was deemed necessary because Mankind and Dogdom were to soon unite, hopefully to the benefit of each.

On the appointed day, the representatives gathered and one by one, in an orderly fashion, each made his selection from a series of catalogues depicting body parts available. As the day wore on, it became clear that there was not enough material to satisfy all breed requirements. Shortages were beginning to develop, especially in the ear and tail categories. A few of the breed representatives began to show signs of anxiety.

A Greyhound crowded near a large dog at the front of the line. "Please, friend Rottweiler," whined the Greyhound, "let me take your place in line. If I stay at the end of the line there won't be any long tails to act as a rudder, Greyhound will run crookedly." "Well, okay," said the Rottweiler, and he moved back a step for the grateful Greyhound. The line began inching forward again. "Pardon me, sir," rumbled a deep voice at the Rottweiler's shoulder, "Would you mind if I went ahead of you?" "Well," said the Rottweiler, "I really don't think...." "You see, " the deep voice went on, "we St. Bernards must have great size to perform our rescue work in the snow. It's extremely difficult for small dogs to rescue people. Just think of all those lost children." "Oh, all right," sighed the Rottweiler, and again he moved back in line.

And so it went.... a little prototype dog for whom a long body was essential so he could wriggle into badger holes edged in; a Terrier type needed agility and speed to catch rats; another needed a dense coat to be comfortable while guarding sheep in winter; a tiny prototype needed a silky coat to please those upon whose lap she sat. Finally, all that remained was the tired canine who had patiently yielded his place to the others. He looked through the catalogues. Most of the items had black lines drawn through them.... all of the good stock was gone. The Rottweiler sighed deeply.

"HURRY UP", yapped the Eighth Fate, without looking up. "Well," said the Rottweiler, very alert now that his turn had come, "I guess a big deep chest won't look bad with small ears that stand up sharply."

"Sorry," said the Eighth Fate. "All out of stand-up ears." "NO STAND UP EARS?" howled the Rottweiler.

"That's what I said. We can give you rosettes, long or medium-short, but they all drop."

"I'll take the medium-short," said the Rottweiler with disappointment,

"They won't be too noticeable with a nice bright colour combination."

"NO BRIGHT COLOURS," yipped the Second Fate. "Only black." "BLACK?" Snarled the Rottweiler.

"Wait, Wait," whimpered the Fourth Fate, in an attempt to placate, "Here are a few tan markings you can scatter on the face and legs." "I have three white hairs here," said the Fifth Fate. Not enough for everyone, but occasionally you can sprinkle two or three on a chest"

"It's not really what we had in mind" said the Rottweiler. Then he brightened, "However a big plume of a tail will make up for everything."

"SORRY," barked the Sixth Fate, "NO TAILS." "WHAT!" Roared the Rottweiler, "You expect me to report back to my breed chairman in BLACK with a few tan markings, DROP EARS and NO TAIL?"

"Sorry," said the others. "You should have got here sooner."

"One moment," the Chief Fate interceded. "This prototype was one of the first to arrive."

"I can't help that," said the Eighth Fate crankily (he was getting very tired). "Besides," added the Third Fate, "all of the catalogues are closed. There are no more supplies to be had."

"I realise that, " answered the Chief Fate, "but we can do what all good dogs should do..... give something of ourselves.

From each of us, Rottweiler, you will receive one gift to bestow upon your breed: COURAGE, GENTLENESS, INTELLIGENCE, STRENGTH, LOYALTY, PLACIDITY, HANDSOMENESS and VIGILANCE. However, the greatest attribute of any breed you already possess in abundance.....

A GENEROUS HEART!"

  another story called........

Don't jump to conclusions..................

Frank's Rottie named "Ruff" was a typical 10 month male; fairly well trained, full of energy and silly as a sheep.

Frank was constantly worrying about "Ruff" doing something to cause a problem with the neighbours.

They had bought a big lop-eared rabbit. Quite naturally, "Ruff" showed particular interest with this new furry thing and whenever it was let out onto the back lawn, "Ruff" would cavort all over the garden, bum high and tongue hanging out, in innocent "enthusiasm".

Unfortunately, Frank's neighbours did not appreciate the finer points of Rottie foreplay and they would usher their pet to the safety of its hutch, muttering about "dangerous dogs".

Imagine Frank's horror when he came home one day and "Ruff" is running happily around the yard with a MUDDY and OBVIOUSLY DEAD RABBIT IN HIS MOUTH!

Frank panicked. He took the rabbit from the dog, carefully washed off the mud and dried it. Checking the coast was clear, he crept into next door's garden and placed the rabbit back into its hutch. Like a true coward, he hoped the neighbours would presume the rabbit had died.

A few days later, Frank met the lady from next door. She came over to him and said, "I suppose you heard what happened?"

Frank went very cold and stuttered, "No, what?"

She replied, "We had a death in the family."

Feeling slightly more at ease, Frank said, "I'm sorry, who died?"

"Fluffy the rabbit" she replied, "and the weird thing was, after we buried him, somebody dug him up, cleaned him off and put him back in his hutch!".............

My dog nearly choked to death!

By Natalie Cadwallader

I think that it was a Saturday afternoon when me and my mum were walking our dog - Bruce, then about two years old, to a near by field. Our dog loves to chase a ball and we had a little white ball which had a tendency to bounce. When we threw it for Bruce he ran after it but came back to us choking. Bruce had swallowed the ball.

A golfer was practicing hitting shots across the other side of the field. I quickly ran to him to see if he could help. He helped my mum pick Bruce up and carry him back to our car. He is only small but weighs a ton! Me and my mum -Debbie were trying to think of the closest vets surgery. There was one just a few minutes away. When we arrived, the vet had just closed up surgery for the afternoon, by this time our dog was choking heavily. The vet took all of our details and put Bruce through to the back of the surgery. It was about two o clock and the vet said that he wasn't going to take any actions until four. Me and my mum went home, not knowing what to do.

A couple of hours later we had a phone call. I was panicking because I thought he was going to die but the vet said that everything was ok and that we could pick Bruce up. I cried with happiness when I heard. Now Bruce is almost five and is a real member of the family. When we throw a ball now it's almost the size of a football and we make sure that it bounces and drops before he reaches it. I love my dog to pieces.