There are many ways in which dogs capture my heart.
Bud is ultimately winning me over with his morning charge into the bathroom to await my getting out of the shower and reminding me to give him and the other dogs their morning treat.
Yesterday dog troll Helena sent me this message about me having written that I kicked Fate (lightly) once to keep her from rushing into a truck on the highway and once more to stop her from attacking Bud when he first arrived and tried to eat from his bowl.
Good moves both; I would do it again in a flash. Saved one life and kept another from more trauma and pain.
But even dog lovers have their trolls, and I’ve heard from several. “Hope none of them got kicked or smacked,” wrote Helena when I posted a photo of Bud. She was being snarky, of course, but it gave me a good laugh.
Just how abused do these three dogs look? Fate came into the bathroom with Bud for the first time, and Zinnia was right behind. They changed positions.
Bud is taking charge of the treat campaign and winning.
The photo, taken by Maria, was taken during our daily morning meditation – me, Maria, and the dogs. Zinnia likes to nap with her head on my shoe while I meditate.
I love her for it. There are so many ways to love a dog.
Every dog I’ve owned has been smacked once or twice during its life and like you, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Have these idiots who claim you’re abusing your dogs ever watched how dogs discipline one another? A dog doesn’t make another dog sit in time out, they don’t sit on the couch and discuss the bad behaviour and they don’t withhold privileges. Discipline is swift, painful and, if necessary, draws blood. So a swat on the nose or butt along with a stern voice is nothing. My dog doesn’t understand that chasing a rabbit onto the road means almost certain death, but she does understand that running into the street will result in angry voices and a swat on the ass with the flat of my hand. She is much more upset at my disapproving voice than the swat. You have to treat dogs like toddlers because that’s the level of their understanding. A 2-year old child doesn’t understand what death is, but they do understand that running into the street will result in a spanking. Stinging butt or death under a car? I pick the butt smack every time.
Thanks, Daryl; trolls do not live in the real world. I’ve become a minor authority on trolls, and they are not seekers or truth, they rarely know what they are talking about, their purpose is to transmit hate, and from what I’ve read, many of them are troubled and broken and deserve some empathy. After all, what kind of healthy person sends nasty messages to strangers they know nothing about, for better or worse, via a computer?
It is sad when you think about it.
The signature trait of the troll is that they can never be argued with; they would shatter in pieces. And they are generally strangers to reality. I do feel sorry for Helena, to be honest, trolling is the mark of an empty life.
I have a folded piece of cardboard I call the dog popper. You couldn’t leave a mark on anyone or anything if you tried but it’s noisy. I rarely touch the dogs with it. I usually just pop my knee & it gets their attention.
A rolled up newspaper was what my parents used…
My grandparents as well. They kept an average of 15 dogs. A small rescue. A rolled up newspaper was their attention getter of choice. A flattened paper was a pee pad. Never have I known any people who loved dogs, or animals in general, more. My heroes forever. Grandpa gone since 74, grandma gone since 78.
They lived 2 doors away., 12 acres of paradise.
They raised hogs, chickens, vegetables, birds, fish, lizards, you name it. Neighbor had a milk cow & grandma traded eggs for milk & we made butter. It was heaven on her biscuits and cornbread. I’ll miss my Mawmaw forever.
Darryl s view recalls late 19th century German pedagogy. Later influencing the Nazis.
Jon, Bub has such a cute face. They are all cute. Not as cute as Murrey.