Weird things dogs have done

More of a weird dog owner than weird dog.  Here's my "welcome" mat:

My rescue, Loy, is trying to get me in trouble.

I always have a clean full dish of water inside available to her 24/7, but she prefers to drink out of the chicken waterer when we are outside with the pastured chickens. I'm sure my neighbors think she is goofy.

Dachshund drinking from poultry waterer

I have a new rescue, a four year old mini-dachshund, who is just a love. (See the previous post I made on this thread for a photo).

We are having a bit of issues getting into a potty time routine. We have learned some of the passive signs she gives to indicate when she needs to go and that is going all well and good. The only remaining issue is the morning time. The first thing I need to do when I get up is to get this dog outside to do her business. If I do anything else besides take her out, she is happy to go on the living room rug.

I thought I had this figured out guys! This morning I took her out and wouldn't you know, she does EVERYTHING she needs to do. I thought I was in the clear. I brought her and her sister inside and started my morning pre-work routine. It wasn't even ten minutes later I go into the living room and she has decided to leave a second offering that I needed to clean up.

She is lucky she is cute, I swear she is training me instead of the other way around.

My suggestion? Attach her to you. Just hook her leash to your beltloop, and watch your step, to keep from tripping over her. Shouldn't take more than a few days, and she'll get the idea. What this accomplishes is to get the two of you in tune with one another, and keeps her from sneaking off to 'go', unobserved. It also helps you learn to read her cues, more quickly.

We've had a family of hedgehogs around this summer....It turns out that our mastiff, Della,  can carry a full grown hedgehog in her mouth, prickles and all! I have to wear gloves to pick them up.
Della then procedes to 'bury' them. Luckily her idea of burying is pretty shallow, so the hedgehogs unroll themselves and disappear once the dog is away. I'm not sure how to break her of this habit as I'm not always around to rescue the critters. Luckily she hasn't worked out how to get into a hedgehog ball yet and doesn't seem to hurt them.

OK, my reply is extremely late in coming, but I will give you two stories about my lab-mix Gracie.  For being a black lab, Gracie is a very fast runner, at least in her prime years.  And being a lab, she may bark and growl, but she has no ill intent-she only wants to play, especially if another animal is running—almost always away.

First story—Gracie somehow chased down a squirrel and grabbed it up in her mouth.  She probably shook it violently, which to her is a form of play when she gets a toy.  Having scooped up the squirrel, she immediately ran back to me to show off her new “friend.”  Honestly, she fully intended to bring the squirrel back to chase and play with it around me.

But of course, that violent shake killed the squirrel which hung lifeless in her mouth.  She dropped it down, expecting it to run around so they could play.  But of course it was dead and just lay there.  When it dawned on her that she killed her new friend, she did the most baffling and amazing thing I have ever seen a dog do: she went over to a section of decorative rock (2 inch diameter—not conducive to digging) and dug a hole with great effort, picked up the squirrel and dropped it in.  And to the amazement of my wife and I she then proceeded to bury the squirrel.  And after the squirrel was buried and the surface of the rock looked completely undisturbed, she plopped down on the ground facing the little squirrel grave and moped for the next hour, not moving an inch, her eyes low, the saddest I have ever seen.  Honest to God, I think she gave her squirrel friend a funeral!  My wife and I were both wide-eyed and stupefied followed by bemused laughter as we shook our heads.

To this day, somewhere in our decorative rock is a little squirrel grave.  The rock has never been disturbed since the funeral.  Gracie’s friend rests peacefully under her determined presence!

To this day I still can’t quite fully comprehend the event.  It was so human-like that it was mesmerizing.  I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but that is the character of Gracie—all full of love and devotion.


Eric

Without crossing too far into another post, I had a pig missing yesterday. I found it after dark in the woods. It had given birth under an old lean to.  I was in no position to deal with it energy wise.  I made sure it had lots of straw and hoped for the best. As dawn was breaking I headed out to it with a flashlight in one hand and coffee in the other.  When I got to the shelter, I had trouble figuring out what I was looking at. Momma was there and out shelter pup was laying beside her. Then the pup stood up ….there were all the babies …alive.  The pup had used her body to keep them warm.

It took me a couple of hours, but I did get the family moved to a warm stall with a heat lamp in the barn.

John F Dean wrote:Without crossing too far into another post, I had a pig missing yesterday. I found it after dark in the woods. It had given birth under an old lean to.  I was in no position to deal with it energy wise.  I made sure it had lots of straw and hoped for the best. As dawn was breaking I headed out to it with a flashlight in one hand and coffee in the other.  When I got to the shelter, I had trouble figuring out what I was looking at. Momma was there and out shelter pup was laying beside her. Then the pup stood up ….there were all the babies …alive.  The pup had used her body to keep them warm.

It took me a couple of hours, but I did the family moved to to a warm stall with a heat lamp in the barn.

Well, our dogs have never exhibited that particular act of kindness around our pigs, but boy have we ever 'been there' with 'inconvenient' litters!  Ha!    Gestation is 3 months, 3 weeks, 3 days.... so it must be the sultry hot summer nights that get them (and us!) into this predicament of farrowing in late fall in our region.  Same deal here on at least two occasions...."Where is the pregnant sow!??"  One time we found her a few hundred yards from the barn, in the middle of a large swatch of native prairie grass.  Talk about crop circles!....She had pulled up a large amount of tall-grass big bluestem in a circle and had deposited the pile in the middle.  Then she had burrowed under it to have her litter.  Nights were already freezing, so then you have to work fast to get piglets and sow back into shelter.  Not easy when sow doesn't know why you are picking up her babies and placing them into a cardboard box...and all of her instincts are saying "protect and attack!".  Since we had learned our lesson that time, the next occasion had us keeping a newly acquired, late-term sow in the back of a quonset.  There hadn't been time to create a proper stall yet, so we provided a pile of hay and the usual food/water availability.  Next day, it looked like a hurricane had gone through that back half of the quonset!  The sow had pulled old feed bags, garden hoses, bits of old musty blankets,.....basically anything not nailed down....and piled them all along with the hay in that nest.  Piglets soon followed.  Gives a new definition to the word "provider".  "Yup...that one there is Junior; he was born wrapped up in the garden hose...."  :-)    Kudos to the instincts of your shelter pup. Hope piglets and mama are all doing well.

My dachshund, 'Noodle', has developed a fondness for kisses on the cheek. This fondness is so strong that she will climb up on you if you are sitting/laying and shove the side of her face against your lips in anticipation of loud smooches.

Noodle

I don't know how this even started, I'm afraid my wife is slowly 'stealing' MY dog from me.

this weekend my dog had really bad vomiting and bloody diarrhea. Of course, over the weekend, so I watched his hydration, fed him pumpkin, and gave him 24 hours and a pill for belly cramps. By Monday things were improved enough that I didn't take him to the vet, and by Tuesday all resolved for him to go to training. but the weekend was bad, in terms of cleanup and canine unhappiness.

he only eats kibble and i just figured it was maybe a virus from his training school, lots of dogs interacting.
Til this morning, I was outside fooling around with a solar panel in my front yard when I saw a caterpillar fall off my passionfruit vine onto the patio and the dog catapult over there to eat it, and then begin the bite-cough-spit-heave dance. These caterpillars are very hairy and spiky and I know from experience that they will burn you badly. The fact that he saw it and immediately considered it a hairy candy bar makes me think that these caterpillars will also do a job on your GI tract if you eat one.
He was very unhappy that I removed the caterpillar from his reach and now he's locked up inside until caterpillar season is over.
He also considers bees a great delicacy. What is it with these dogs???

Flies = 'sky raisins'
Moths & butterflies = 'fluffy sky raisins'
Bees = 'spicy sky raisins'
Wasps, hornets, etc = '🌶🌶🌶spicy sky raisins'
Worms,  grubs, etc = 'juicy mud noodles'
Soft, fluffy caterpillars = 'fluffy juicy noodles'
Bristly caterpillars = 'spicy noodles'
Soft "OCP" (Other critters' poop) = 'funky mud pies'
Pellet type (Goat, sheep, bunny, guinea pig) "OCP" = 'after dinner mints'

I was a massage therapist, had a lady I worked on who was having a lot of life problems. She brought her dog to her appointment with her one time, crying.  The dog's sister had died of liver cancer, this one was doing badly, she didn't want to take him to the vet because she couldn't bear to hear from a stranger that he was going to die. She could handle hearing it from me, and then she felt she could take him to the vet. Could I check her dog?

I felt his belly really, really well, and said "Does he eat from the cat box? I feel no swelling in his liver but a lot of nasty feeling blockage in his intestines." She said "Well, he would if he could, but my son keeps the cat box very clean so he can't."  "Any chance he did eat some?" "No, my son is very good about keeping it clean.... but he has a new girlfriend...... "

The dog was given a laxative by the vet, who agreed with me, pooped something horrible, and lived many years after that.

Dogs are weird critters.

My shelter pup has turned onto a porch pirate.   I went outside to check the livestock. And there she was …with a Christmas Tree.  Yep, the bulb was wrapped in canvas and white flocking was sprayed on the tips.  I expect the neighbors to come tonight with torches and pitchforks.   Well, unless she was robbing the cemetery again.  In which case I expect the neighbors to show up with torches and pitchforks.

John F Dean wrote:.....  Well, unless she was robbing the cemetery again.  In which case I expect the neighbors to show up with torches and pitchforks.

A bit off tangent.....  My 92 year old mother passed away just before Thanksgiving.  A devout Catholic, she went with the whole embalming, casket, and full burial.  At the burial, mom was getting her last digs in by testing her offspring's ability to withstand blustery winds and light blizzard snow (southern Minnesota).....even the priest was rushing a bit with the final prayers.  But we made sure that, prior to final headstone being delivered, she had the small statue of St. Francis of Assisi--patron saint of animals--that she cherished placed by her gravesite.  She loved pets and viewing wild animals and birds in her backyard.  And she loved the basset hounds that she had over many decades.  One particular chair in the den of our childhood home was a basset favorite.  The dog would be fast asleep, all head and ears hanging over the arm.  That is, until the cat crawled under the chair upside-down, claws ready with anticipation.  A wild bout of cat scratching would commence sending the dog into a fit of barking over the edge of the chair, ..... and it seemed the cat would suddenly poke its head out from underneath, staring up at the dog as if to say "Is there a problem here?!.......".  From stolen Christmas trees to torn chair covers, we grant our pets much leeway...can't do otherwise with the joy they bring into our lives.

We had a kai ken (think of a dog in between a shiba inu and an akita) named Basil, about 45 lbs. The only way Basil knew how to play with other dogs was to mount and dominate them, and he had an outsized ego. At the dog park, he didn't bother dominating any dog his own size or smaller--too easy. He went for the biggest, meanest dog in the park. One time he found a malamute, who was probably more than a hundred pounds. That dog liked to play domination too. Basil mounted the malamute, who shook him off with a quick shake of his rump and circled around to mount Basil, who dropped to his belly and crawled out, circling around before the malamute knew what happened and remounting him. This went on for a half an hour.

Another Basil story (I've got hundreds): He loved to hunt, and one time on a hike he chased a marmot into a hollow log. I kept hiking, and when he didn't follow I went back. He was tearing the log apart with his teeth. Blood dripped from his gums, and he kept tearing at the log. I took out his leash and put it on him. He looked at me with such gratefulness in his eyes, like he was saying, "Oh thank God you came, this hurt like hell."

I raised an Aussie Shepherd pup, Buddy II, who was quite precocious.  One of his first chew toys was one of my deerskin slippers with which he would wrestle ferociously.  Sometimes he won, sometimes the slipper got the best of him, and worn out, he would cuddle up with it and sleep on the carpet until the next round.

My farm and the farms bordering it were just fenced with 4-strand barbed wire, so the neighborhood dogs were not detained by it and roamed freely farm to farm.  Nobody seemed to mind unless they hunted chickens and other poultry.  My Aussie often disappeared for hours at a time and came home with souvenirs of his various adventures.  Several times he brought home pillows stolen from neighbors' porch chairs.  He would carry them home intact, but then tear them to shreds all over the front yard.  When the contents were spread all about to his satisfaction, he would sit on the front porch proudly surveying his field of destruction.

One Christmas morning he came home with a rubber bone about 18 inches long that must have been a Christmas gift of a much larger dog.  How he got it away from the owner and managed to carry it all the way home was a mystery.

We didn't get many visitors at the farm, but whenever a strange vehicle drove up our long access road to the house, he would welcome the driver and passengers.  I think he always assumed they had come to visit him personally and he would monopolize any conversation they tried to have with me.  When they were ready to leave he would be there to see them off and let them know they were welcome to come back anytime.  Not the greatest watch dog in the community, but he was well-liked and visitors often returned with dog treats for him.

When he was about six months old, several of my neighbor's cows wandered into my front yard and were nibbling on my strawberries in a raised bed.  Buddy had never seen a cow before and became quite excited.  He was barking at them from a safe distance.  I came out on the porch and saw what was going on, went back inside and got my long cattle prod and cautiously approached the cows to chase them out of my strawberries and head them back toward the fence.  Once Buddy saw that I was not afraid of the cows, he quickly gained confidence and instinctively began herding them away from the house, racing back and forth behind and beside them, barking and nipping at their heels, as it were.  I got on my phone and called the neighbor to let him know his cows had escaped, and he and his son arrived with halter ropes to lead them back home.  He later repaired the fence that had been knocked down by a falling limb, and neither Buddy or I ever had to herd cattle again.

I couldn't let my chickens free range because of the dogs roaming around, but I pastured them during the warm months with electric net fencing with a solar energizer.  Buddy and the other dogs got shocked a few times and learned to respect the fence, but Buddy would run in circles around the enclosure like he was trying to get the whole setup to move.  He seemed to sense when the juice was flowing or not, and he'd wait for an opportunity to jump the fence and "play" with the chickens.  He liked to catch them, toss them into the air and catch them again.  It was a lot of fun to him, but the chickens didn't care for the game, and some of them died of heart attacks from the stress.  I couldn't break him of this, so I finally had to rehome him with a family that did not have poultry.

Our last rehome/rescue to 'the end of the road' was a pup Marema. Her energy is all nervous, very in your face, relentlessly playful. Our older posse, especially our female Anatolian, Beksi the self medicating LGD, https://permies.com/t/274138/Smart-LGD-Beksi-Anatolian#2863800 ,had a hard time tolerating her energy.
Her name is Kitka. I asked my Finnish brother in-law for the translation to 'pain in the ass'. The answer was Kitka, which is 'trouble' more or less. For a quite awhile the first year, she was kind of without friends.  
Beksi hates squirrels for whatever reason, and me tolerating them around the house is a no go. Too much destruction/mischief. Beksi comes running when she sees the air rifle come out. The squirrels never even hit the ground, she snatches them out of the air as they tumble, dispatches them if they have not yet expired.
She then scrubs her snout in the snow or grass to cleanse the stain. The squirrels then get toted off to I'm not sure where. Our property has a 'Pet Sematary' full of deceased squirrels somewhere.
Kitka drags branches or driftwood into the yard and chews them puppy style. One afternoon she was tossing and chasing a small black branch. I went to have a look, it was of course the mummifying, hairless, slick black corpse of a squirrel revived from Mr. King's Sematary.  She would toss it, chase it, throw herself down in front of it, waiting for instruction, then grab it, toss it, chase it, bark at it. Her new friend was the most compliant, willing playmate she had. Whatever instructions the squirrel had, she gave it her full attention, paws crossed, waiting. I buried the poor beast, of course, after an afternoon of joy.

We lost our two older dogs this summer, the patient LGD master Marco, our Marema. His son, Nebo a Pyrenees mix, I had to put down two months later because of fast moving cancer. Both very good, work focused outdoor guardian types. Both a bitter bit of business. I think Marco's heart gave out. He went for a walkabout with the other dogs, as was his habit, clunky and slow but steady. When he didn't come back we of course worried. Three days later I saw a white shape across the lake. I canoed over knowing of course it was Marco. We choose to believe he went down to the lake, maybe not feeling well, and laid down in the water, knowing I would find him and bring him home.

We like our number at five dogs, all larger, because of predator pressure. Coyotes, black bears, cougars, no problem. Two big Anatolians run them off. Wolves and grizzlies, more trouble, but good sized dog pack will have no real trouble likely. We have agreed to rehome another Pyrenees from here in Nevada. 3-4yrs old, horrible abuse in his puppy past, but pretty well adjusted. Can apparently climb a 5-6ft fence. The owner, someone we know here in town, having trouble keeping him home, would like him to go to a place where being confined to a small yard, auto traffic, chasing coyotes solo, are not problems.
We brought him home for a night to see if we all got along. Sitting reading, I heard a very familiar noise. Getting up quickly, I found that Sebastian, the Pyr, had opened the front door for himself, and was going for a walkabout.  Called the owner, " Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, he also opens doors! Sorry. "
Nudges the handle up or down, then pulls the door open. We found he will also stand up and put his weight against it, in case it opens out and not in.

This is a 'normal' sleeping position for Vixin... She's a sillywad.

Our shelter pup has proven she can be trusted in the house. But she is learning people are weird.  My wife “attacked” me with a pillow. The pup was confused, so she gently herded my wife away from me,

My neighbour, Christine, takes my sheepdog Rock out for a walk every afternoon.

Yesterday he suddenly raced up our steps and started scratching at the door while he was supposed to be out with her helping in the garden, so naturally I assumed something had happened and he'd come to fetch me. I went outside to see him hurtling off at top speed so I followed. Christine was fine. He sat by her side and grinned at me smugly and said that he thought we should have a nice chat about whatever it is that hoomans chat about. So we did that for a while. Then she put her secateurs down and showed me some baby puffballs that had decided to appear after the recent unexpected rains. Rock gleefully pounced on the secateurs and ran off with them, which I'd never seen him do before. She shrieked and set off in hot pursuit to retrieve them and said that he'd started doing that with socks too and she had to make sure all underwear was in off the clothes rack before she came to fetch him.  So then he found a nice bit of unwanted plastic and started running round like a lunatic with that instead.

I have to wonder if maybe he's found some different sort of mushrooms to eat, because he's not usually quite this bonkers...

Burra Maluca wrote:My neighbour, Christine, takes my sheepdog Rock out for a walk every afternoon.

Yesterday he suddenly raced up our steps and started scratching at the door while he was supposed to be out with her helping in the garden, so naturally I assumed something had happened and he'd come to fetch me. I went outside to see him hurtling off at top speed so I followed. Christine was fine. He sat by her side and grinned at me smugly and said that he thought we should have a nice chat about whatever it is that hoomans chat about. So we did that for a while. Then she put her secateurs down and showed me some baby puffballs that had decided to appear after the recent unexpected rains. Rock gleefully pounced on the secateurs and ran off with them, which I'd never seen him do before. She shrieked and set off in hot pursuit to retrieve them and said that he'd started doing that with socks too and she had to make sure all underwear was in off the clothes rack before she came to fetch him.  So then he found a nice bit of unwanted plastic and started running round like a lunatic with that instead.

I have to wonder if maybe he's found some different sort of mushrooms to eat, because he's not usually quite this bonkers...

I could picture every moment you described in my head, thanks for the smile!