My dog ​​passed away, but I have great memories of him. It was a Basset Hound. Even when she was a puppy, she loved cats with a passion. My cat had a litter and my dog ​​was excited and wanted to take care of the kittens. But my cat pushed her away.

One morning, when we woke up, we found the kittens' box empty. No more kittens! Worried, we searched everywhere in the house... only to find them all snuggled up against our dog, asleep. Our dog was not sleeping and did not dare move the slightest hair so as not to wake them. Too cute! I miss her a lot.

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Final score:

8points

Frances Pitchoune

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When our dog Gryphon was a puppy, maybe three months after we brought him home, he figured out how to open his food bin and would just go to town. After a bit of confusion we caught him in the act, and he doesn’t just pig out anymore, but now if he doesn’t think he’s gotten his dinner fast enough he’ll flip open the lid with his nose to get our attention. He’s a border collie and sometimes too smart for his own good XD

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Final score:

7points

and_a_touch_of_the_’tism

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We inherited a Chihuahua from a relative who passed away several years ago, and that started us on a path where several agencies use us as a go to for small dogs that are not 100%, but are wonderful dogs. Missing teeth, bad eyes, etcetera. Our latest is a chunky little girl of 6 pounds, whose back legs do not work properly (a typical overbred Chihuahua problem).
Well, we live on a golf course, and if this dog sees golfers, lawn mowers, ducks or rabbits, she will take off chasing them dragging her back legs behind her. This has occurred several times early morning, and I have been trying to catch her when I am not necessarily fully dressed. But after we both get some early exercise, we have been able to get her back.

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Final score:

6points

Rick Olson

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When we were kids, my dad bought a lab to be his "hunting dog," even though he really didn't hunt much. Rusty of course lived in the house and was pampered and babied like all our pets. We had a ritual where Rusty would not sleep until he was tucked in with his pillow and under his blanket. Eventually, my dad went on a hunting trip with his buddies and took Rusty. Never again - he was teased relentlessly for having to tuck his hunting dog in to sleep. No regrets.

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Final score:

5points

Alecto76

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Have had dogs all my life. Growing up we had 2 minature schnauzers. The female had 2 litters of puppies. My brother woke me up one night with the female having her puppies on him lol.

Had a beagle mix that was our escape artist. Had to chase her down non stop. My current steals my spot on the couch or bed then growls at me when i move him.

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Final score:

4points

Enochrises

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Our dog pooped in a basket that had our blankets in it

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Final score:

4points

Jman

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Darla was a rescue Redbone Coonhound who failed "Hunting Dog 101." She as afraid of guns and detested the cold. She crossed the Rainbow Bridge June 30, 2024. She was a hoot!

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Final score:

4points

Robin Roper

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This story is dog-adjacent. I worked for 5 years at a dog boarding kennel on some acreage here in Colorado. I started out taking care of the dogs, letting them out, cleaning their kennels, feeding them, giving them meds, and playing with them to keep 'em from getting too bored. Sweet pooches of all sizes and breeds to cuddle and play tug-of-war with or just sit and hold in the corner. SO SWEET! After some time, I befriended the owner (who lived on the property), and I got promoted to Grounds Maintenance Worker. The acreage featured a small farm of sorts, with a large pasture, some sheep, 6 alpacas, and a small "barn" that housed supplies and chickens. It was cute, to be sure! In addition to all the other animals, the kennel grounds were home to 2 peacocks and 2 peahens. On this occasion, the owner noticed that one of the peacocks had somehow managed to break its leg. It was hobbling around, the leg bent at a horribly painful angle, blood clotting around the compound fracture. She decided that we needed to take it to the vet. I was tasked with catching the peacock, and was equipped with the only thing one uses for such a chore, a king-sized bed sheet. I snuck up on the ENORMOUSLY feathered creature, and tossed the sheet over it, including its head. SUCCESS! I picked up the bird (easily 5 feet long from tail to beak), and began carrying it to the back of the owner's Subaru Legacy wagon. About halfway across the field, the bird pooped on my foot, which was covered only by an Adidas flipflop. Did you know that peacock poop comes out hot? It does! I couldn't let go of the bird (they can and do fly), and I couldn't reach my burning poop-covered foot. So I settled for kicking my foot forward, which succeeded in sending my poop-covered flipflop sailing across the pasture. I kept walking towards the edge of the field where the vehicle was waiting, and the owner looked at me and exclaimed, "Jesus, Kevin, your NOSE!" It was at that moment that my nose had decided to start bleeding. It wasn't a cute little trickle, either, but a gusher. The sheet I was using to carry/hold the bird quickly turned quite red, and the owner rushed over to roughly apply her bandana to my nose. We then walked, me with only one flipflop, hot poop on my bare foot, the owner holding my nose, a peacock in a sheet in my arms, over to the back of the Subaru. We waited for my nose to quit bleeding, already chuckling about how completely absurd the situation was. Then, I climbed into the back, and we drove to the vet. When we arrived, I entered the waiting area of the vets office, where one man was sitting with his golden retriever, reading an old "Cat Fancy" magazine, and a woman sat in another chair holding her cat in a carrier. I wish I had taken photos of their faces when they saw me, sweating profusely, bloody tissue shoved up my nostril, carrying a fuc*ing peacock wrapped in a savagely bloody sheet, only one flipflop on one foot, dried poop on the other. I'm sure the image was priceless! The vet said that the leg had to be re-broken for proper setting, and that it would be easier at that point to just let the poor thing limp around for the rest of its life. I am happy to report that the bird lived as long a life as a peacock can, and I made a full recovery as well!

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Final score:

4points

Kevin the Manager

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My dog Shilo a Border Collie Loves frisbees. One windy day I took him outside to play but was worried if I threw the frisbee with the wind it would end up in the neighbour's gaso I threw it into the wind instead. So the frisbee went in one direction but Shilo went in the other. H went about half way into the garden and sat down. While I was wondering what he was doing the frisbee got caught up in the wind and was blown right over to where Shilo was sitting. He watched the frisbee coming towards him and when it was nearly above his head he just jumped up and caught it. My dog gave me a lesson in !work smarter, not harder that day. I still don't know how he managed to figure out how he knew to do that. It must be true about what they say about Border Collies intelligence and problem solving abilities.

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Final score:

4points

IlovemydogShilo

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When I was a kid we had a Yorkshire Terrier who would steal anything given the chance. It was my birthday and my mum said I could invite a few friends round for a birthday tea. She prepared a buffet tea and left it on the table covered with a cloth, and came to school to pick my friends and I up. When we got home she opened the front door and noticed crumbs on the doormat. We went through to the dining room and there was carnage. While she was alone my dog was trying to get to the food and she had pulled the cloth along with most of the food, including the cake, off the table and had a feast. Then she 'buried' what she couldn't eat in the chairs, the cushions, the beds, everywhere. I don't remember what we ended up having for tea but I do remember that the dog didnt have the free run of the house any more.

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Final score:

3points

Liz The Biz

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When I was a kid we had a terrier mix named Bo. We joked about how dumb he was. He once darted past my dad out the door to hit a car on the highway, bouncing off the hubcap. But he was a good boy and a faithful friend.

One evening my mom and I were watching TV in the family room when Bo came into the hallway and threw something into the living room, then pounced on it and began running all around the room with it. We could see it was brown, but had no idea what it was it. He tosses it around as we try to get him to bring it to us. Finally he brought me a small potato. He let me see it for a bit, but then wanted it back. I had no use for a potato with holes in it from dog teeth and gave it back to him. He tossed it around the living room for close to an hour, chasing it and grabbing it to toss more.

He had somehow opened the cabinet door and took a potato out of the bag without damaging it. So odd. He never opened the cabinet again and he never played with another potato though.

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Final score:

3points

Riani Kivela

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I was able to convince a family (I provided home health services for them) to relinquish their dog to me, after her first two years of life being neglected, and a recent litter of puppies. When I got her home, we realized she had been abused as well. My heart broke when she didn't understand what "good girl" meant, and she shuttered when we praised her too loudly. She just didn't know how to be a dog. Then, we met Lenny, a neighbor's dog, at the park. They took to each other quickly, and she started following his lead. This was about a year ago. Now, we say we have a shared custody agreement with our neighbors, over both dogs. They go to the park together pretty much every day. When I walk Piper, I take Lenny too. When they're out of town, Lenny stays here, and vice-versa. If I try to walk by the neighbor's house, without picking up Lenny, Piper will try to go to their door, and then she will protest by sitting and refusing to move until I get him. When we're out together, Lenny will try to 'go home' to our house. They are absolute besties, and they make us smile and laugh every day.

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Final score:

2points

Orwell

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My 14 year old chiweeny Russell, started barking. Was in closet. barking at HIMSELF in mirror!

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Final score:

1point

Sara Bardsley

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Harold was a mini chihuahua, named after Grandpa (who had named his dachshund Otto after my dad, but that's another story). Harold had a penchant for sulphur-no matches could be left within reach as he would grab and scratch them. One morning I walked to the basement and stepped into 6" of water. I looked around for Harold-his bed was in the corner and he was cowering, in shock, next to it.
The bed had two charred corners where he had obviously scratched some matches. The fire set the wall behind his bed on fire. The fire climbed the wall in two places...and melted the solder on the water pipe above it forming two streams....which put out the fire and flooded the basement.
Funny now...not so much then, tho.

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Final score:

0points

Honu Nui

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Max is a standard dachshund aka Mad Max. Took him aged 7 months and Otto to a nearby river. Otto loves water this was Max's first encounter. Mid summer so water levels low and some stepping stones visible. Max decides to explore and made his way over to the far very steep bank.He got scared and it took me 20 minutes to coax him back. People sitting on the grass? Hope you're not having a picnic! Baby buggies? Bound to have food. He is nearly 9 now and his manners have mostly improved as has.his recall.

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Final score:

0points

Cee Cee

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