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rivals posted:Yeah this. Want that dog. He has a facebook page! http://www.facebook.com/BarkleyShiba
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Sep 21, 2012 19:28
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Anybody know anything about owning Czechoslovakian Vlcaks or other wolfy looking dogs in Maryland? I may have to move into the state for work and their laws regarding "wolf hybrids" terrify me. Nikita's not a hybrid, but she certainly looks wolfy -almost exactly like a Czechoslovakian Vlcak- and animal control seems to make their determination based entirely on appearance. I need to know whether there's a reasonable assurance they wouldn't misidentify her as a hybrid (the animal shelter here did it once!), ignore her listed breed, and kill her. 
Warbadger fucked around with this message at 22:50 on Sep 23, 2012 |
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Sep 23, 2012 22:44
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I dunno man, she's always looked like a high-content hybrid to me, which is just awesome but also  for where you're moving. Are you leaving her in the backyard unattended? If she escapes, yeah I'd imagine AC would euth her based on appearance if she wasn't claimed in time, so maybe consider crating or other methods of containment? Otherwise I don't know how you'd run into a problem where your dog could be misidentified. If you're there with her you'd be able to explain her mix.
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Sep 23, 2012 23:24
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Looks a lot more like a GSD/malamute if I were to actually stop and try and identify it. Maybe add some tags to the collar of "I'm not a wolf, I'm ___"? It's worth a shot in case she does get out.
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Sep 23, 2012 23:26
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This isn't on topic but apparently this is an Alaskan Noble Companion Dog. There is no wolf present in its breeding. Obviously I'm not a fan of designer mutts in general but jeez what a looker.   
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Sep 23, 2012 23:39
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Captain Foxy posted:I dunno man, she's always looked like a high-content hybrid to me, which is just awesome but also She's currently left in the backyard unattended while I'm at work but is otherwise an inside dog. I've got a 6.5 foot fence and nice heavy patio stones around the enclosure to prevent any digging out, which is more or less the minimum I'd use anywhere I kept her due mostly to my previous experience with a GSD-shaped-trenching-machine. The problem is there's always the unforseeable stuff like A/C repair guys letting themselves in (and her out) or my neighbor shoveling 3 feet of snow off his deck into my yard (making a nice big pile for her to climb right over the fence). 
Warbadger fucked around with this message at 00:12 on Sep 24, 2012 |
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Sep 24, 2012 00:08
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Yeah the unforseen stuff you can't prepare for. Even if my backyard was Fort Knox for dogs, there would still be something that could happen to let them escape, so I don't think I'd chance it, personally. Especially if I knew AC may euth my dog. 
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Sep 24, 2012 00:12
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If it's best that she's outside while you're not there, have you thought of making or buying a dog run? If my dogs were outside during the day and there was a chance they could be picked up and euthed, I'd have them in an outdoor run with a roof or something.
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Sep 24, 2012 00:17
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You have to remember that neighbors could pose a problem, too. Marcy, with Galomy Oak has had a few AC calls to her house for owning hybrids (one time it was "coyotes"  ) and she had to pull out their registration to prove they were dogs. That was in Virginia, but I'd imagine you could have that same problem anywhere. You might have to be really proactive about introducing her to people in the community.
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Sep 24, 2012 03:46
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I'd also introduce her to your local AC and give them a heads up. They are not, generally, horrible people. Just overworked and underpaid. I was stressed that the cops here would kill Sitka because holy poo poo are cops terrible when it comes to dogs. So my husband went around and introduced her to the local cops to make sure they all knew Sitka belonged to that 'nice former lawyer (who is white. and middle class. so don't loving shoot her.)' Might not be a bad idea to do with the AC. And if you are tattooed/punked out get a friend who looks normal to do it for you.
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Sep 25, 2012 03:19
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I would like to talk about Tibetan Mastiffs! I saw someone post a young TM in the thread earlier, so I know there's some around. They are just magnificent dogs. I was wondering if anybody would be able to give me a brief rundown on what they're like, both in comparison to other primitives, and just in general. Obviously, I want to own one eventually.  From asking around in other places, it sounds like they have a more biddable, more laid-back personality than some other primitive breeds, but they make up for it with a hell of a guarding instinct. I'm told they can be kept as pets, you don't need to provide them with their own personalised alpine monastery to guard or anything, but a second opinion would be nice. I need to know what I must do to build up to eventually getting one! (In like ten years' time.)Alternately, if you have one, I would appreciate all of the photos, just all of them. On another note - there is construction work going on at a house near where I live, and the construction crew has the best mascot.  This very hard-working labourer (a malamute? He has brown eyes and looks too big to be a husky) just lies out the front all day (he's usually out on the verandah bit), in that exact position, not moving at all, gazing at passersby. He seems like a really docile dog, too. I love "working dogs" that just sleep on-site all day. I might try to get some better pictures of him soon, his underlings don't seem to mind people photographing him. Edit: I didn't mean I was going to post about Tibetan Mastiffs. I don't know nearly enough about them so I'd just be quoting a bunch of stuff. Sorry to get your hopes up! (I'm holding out for a breed post too)
Avshalom fucked around with this message at 22:58 on Sep 25, 2012 |
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Sep 25, 2012 15:12
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Please post about TMs! We'll link it from the OP.
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Sep 25, 2012 17:28
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He definitely looks like a malamute to me. Complete with the 'I'm bored, but too lazy to find something with which to entertain myself" look. Such a cutie. And seconding the post about Tibetan Mastiffs. They sound like such neat dogs.
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Sep 25, 2012 21:21
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PART ONE: It Begins I am posting my story in hopes that it gives someone out there who may be considering adopting a husky but doesn’t really have any experience with them (or any dog for that matter) some insight into what they can expect to go down. This is also for that person that realizes, as was in my case, sometimes a husky just happens and YOU are the one that needs to adapt. I never had any intentions of sharing my life with a husky, or even any dog at all. I was content with the status quo. Good job, good apartment, saving money for a house, falling asleep to Criminal Minds and House Hunters International. I was content. I grew up in a house with German Shepherds. These were great dogs. These were big dogs. These were the dogs I was accustomed to. Eventually, as most young adults do, I managed to make my escape out into the real world. It was a scary place with a whole lot of responsibilities and things I had previously not experienced in my sheltered life. I eventually made friends with a girl from work and we would go out and do girl things. Times were good. One day my friend, her (then) boyfriend, and I were hiking in the Conecuh National Forest when they unexpectedly announced to me that they were ready to move to the next level as a couple. Yes, they were going to adopt a cat. It was one of those moments where I found myself wondering if they had planned to take me into the woods specifically to reveal this to me then possibly murder me right after to keep the secret. I wasn’t quite sure why they were expectantly staring at me. My mind began fill in the gaps in the odd way it tends to do. By the time my friend broke the awkward silence I had concluded that in a strange twist of fate, it turned out that this entire time I thought I was a person, I was in fact a very confused cat. The cat they had decided to adopt. Fortunately for me, the real reason my friend and her future husband were revealing this was because he started his SERE course the next day and would not have the time to accompany her during the adoption. He asked me to go with her instead. I was flattered that he would trust my judgment in helping her select my future god-cat, but also relieved that I was not a disillusioned cat myself. I agreed, and the next day after work I found myself at the local shelter. Now, let me just say, I am one of those weirdoes that believe in fate. We are here to learn certain things in this life and the trials and tribulations we endure are part of that lesson one way or another. So when my purse got snagged on a chain-link wire of this dirty little brownish looking beast’s enclosure, it didn’t really matter how I ended up looking into the blue eyes of this rancid-smelling-flea-ridden-fur-patch-missing mongrel. She was coming home with me. My only regret was not taking pictures of her when I first found her. I really thought she was a brown dog (from the fur she had left). She had so many fleas I had to bomb my car and my apartment six times over the coming months before they were all gone. It was seven months until she started looking like a normal dog. Now we are rounding on our eighth month and she and I are in a good place, but this was not always so. While I was not quite sure what exactly she was when we met, the shelter had identified her as some sort of husky mix. At the time, this didn’t mean much of anything to me. She was a dog and probably did standard dog things, I reasoned. I was horribly, painfully, woefully, and terribly wrong on this account. As illustrated time and again in this thread, and on very day I brought her home, this was no run of the mill loyal happy go lucky companion I signed up for. This was a stubborn, independent, catlike stranger that I had invited into my home and I was ill-prepared on so many levels. Many of you PI veterans will roll your eyes and probably even rage at me for having stated what I have so far, but let me go ahead and recap in case you missed any of it. (1) I was living in an apartment. (2) I adopted this dog impulsively without having done any preparation/research whatsoever. (3) I had lived with dogs growing up, but never took care of one myself. (4) I had no idea…. You with me so far? I hosed up in ways only the most naïve or criminally negligent idiots gently caress up as far as one can gently caress up when adopting a dog. As I drove home with the precious cargo in-tow, some of these issues began to slowly dawn on me. I then did the first responsible thing I had done all day aside from buckle my seatbelt; I went to the apartment complex office to see what I could do about keeping the bitch. The stars somehow aligned in ways I could not have possibly predicted. There were only two buildings that were designated as pet friendly, and I was in one of them. Not only that, but I was on the first floor and right across from the dog walk. This bit of information will come in handy in a moment. But first, I paid the $500 pet deposit. For a $35 discount dog, things were getting expensive in a hurry. The apartment manager was gloriously sympathetic, and gave me a lot of information that helped me get my poo poo in order in a hurry. The first order of business was getting the necessities: food, toys, brushes, and a bath. There is a privately owned business in my area that not only sold all the necessities, but also had a DIY dog bathing facility on site. It was run by a woman who was also heavily involved with some of the no-kill shelters in the area. She was the second godsend and certainly put me in my place when I showed up with my beast at her store. I am almost entirely certain she would have kicked me off the premises and banned me for life had my beast and consequently myself not looked so pathetic and lost at that point. When I was signing papers for the beast back at the shelter I had learned a couple more things about her. She was an estimated year and three months old. She was pupped her first heat cycle and had given birth in the shelter. She was caught as a stray, but appeared to have had a home at one point where she was neglected. None of the puppies survived and she only had two more days left before she was to be put down. Even now when I think back to it, I get angry about the condition she was in. I know the people at the shelter want to help these animals, but their resources and space is limited. There are too many strays and people throwing their pets away for them to all go to no-kill shelters. The ones that don’t make it in end up where my beast was, just waiting for the end. This anger that is now familiar and too personal to me was completely foreign when I was confronted with it by the shop owner. And she.was.ANGRY. I am not really sure what made her angrier; the condition the beast was in or my complete ignorance in what I was getting myself into. I don’t even remember the details of what was said or what my sputtered responses were. It was all a blur punctuated by the yowls of a dog that didn’t want to be cleaned and the swipe of my card for another half a grand in supplies. Before I go any further, I want to point out that it was about this time that I had the inkling the beast was actually white in color though still heavily stained. As I loaded the beast back into my CRV (because for some reason, she did not know how to jump her 32lbs up into it on her own—another story for later), I dialed the number of a vet the shop owner had written down for me and drove straight there when I was green-lighted for a walk-in. SWIPE! With blood work, antibiotics, special shampoo, and other medications/preventatives, another $700 was pulled from the bank. I was exhausted emotionally, physically, and financially. We hadn’t even gotten home yet. As I pulled up to my modest little one bedroom/bath apartment, I began to formulate a mental checklist of things I thought I needed to do in order to dog proof the rooms. I had resolved myself to being the best caretaker I could possibly be for this beast. We were going to be best of companions and together start a new chapter in our combined lives. We would be healthy, active, and inseparable. She would worship the ground I walked on as her savior and I would soak up her adoration and return it tenfold. I wasn’t just opening the door to my apartment; I was opening the gates to my kingdom and proclaiming to her that this shall one day be hers. The Beast, as she remains called at this point in my story was many things, but housebroken was not one of them. For no sooner than I had finished unleashing her then puffing out my chest and sweeping my arms into the main room in some grand gesture of welcome, she had wholeheartedly accepted my invitation and made herself at home with her first order of business: releasing a torrential downpour of diarrhea all over. All over. All. Over. You see, like The Beast (she deserves the recognition of capitalization at this point) I was many things, but dog-broken I was not. When bringing a new dog home, many wiser persons would have recognized that the primary directive at this point is to show her where she will be doing her doggy business. An outdoors place where she can relieve herself before one goes about setting the rules of acceptable behaviors and boundaries for the indoors. Instead I brought her inside, let her off the leash, then screamed “WHHOOOAAA NO NO NONOOOOOO!” while waving my arms around in chase mode as she redecorated the place with a Polluck-esque flair. Are you sensing a reoccurring theme yet? Perhaps it was not fair to say The Beast was not housebroken at this point in the story. After all, I was clearly the novice in this situation. And as The Beast finished her first order of business, she issued a second unspoken decree, ‘This couch? It’s mine.’ This dog, which I just chased around my now poo poo covered apartment, had just hopped up with her poo poo covered paws onto my (mercifully) brown suede couch. I wanted to curl up into a ball, hugging my jean-clad poo poo covered legs to my chest and rock back and forward. As I stood in absolute shock, unable to process the literal poo poo-storm that had just taken place and simultaneously basking in the aura of this creature lounging in a most noble manner on my couch, it occurred to me that The Beast was attempting to establish her dominance early in the game. I knew I had to nip this in the bud. But for some reason, in my time of need, the only disembodied voice that had decided to come to my rescue was that of Cuba Gooding Jr telling me to bite her ear. Do not worry, gentle reader! I did not bite The Beast. Instead, I mustered up my confidence and with leash in hand walked up to her and said, “No! Down!” Have you ever gone up to an unfamiliar dog and tried to assert authority over said dog? Have you ever done this to a dog that has the creepiest blue eyes you have ever seen and an unreadable expression to match? A dog that you know has been through some terrible times, is probably suffering some form of post-partum depression and has no real reason to follow or possibly even lacking in understanding of your command? That was me. I was there. For the first time all day, I was afraid this dog was going to bite me. But in the back of my mind, I knew that if I waffled on this, our little experiment was over. And as well as I knew that much, I also knew that I didn’t want it to end. I knew I could make this work. I know WE could make this work. I repeated myself with more authority, “No! Down!” She did not budge and continued to watch me, daring me to make my move. So I did. I reached forward and grabbed her collar with one hand, and hooked the leash to it with the other. She didn’t bite me, but she wanted to. She contorted her body in such a way that with her closed mouth she had her teeth pressed up against my wrist. I may have peed myself a little, but I wasn’t about to let her know that. With The Beast now on the line, I repeated myself one more time while pulling her off the couch via the leash. It worked! She jumped down and much to my surprise was all waggle-tailed and stompy-footed. It was a complete 360 from what I thought was going to happen. I got down to her level, patted her and rustled her fur while praising her, “Good girl! Good girl!” If I didn’t realize that this dog was completely unlike any other dogs I had ever interacted with up until this point in my life, it was made abundantly clear when in her excitement, she body slammed me and gave me the People’s Elbow as if she were The Rock. This underweight little girl has completely knocked me on my rear end and was scratching me up like we were on an episode of Jerry Springer. I righted myself an attempted to reassess the situation. When she wasn’t hopping around with a scrunched back like a little bunny rabbit she was slapping at me with her paws. Those paws hurt a lot. Oh, and remember the diarrhea? We were both now smeared with it from head to toe. I had dog poo poo in my hair. I should have been angry and disgusted, but watching The Beast hop around was funnier in a way that outweighed any anger I would have been feeling. poo poo covered but feeling victorious, I did what I should have done in the first place and took The Beast to the dog walk. Walking around for a bit, I felt like she understood the spirit of the outdoors when she squatted down a few times then evacuated a bit more from her bowels. Scooping as much as I could into the complex-provided doggie bags, I wasn’t completely unaware of the many pairs of eyes on me and The Beast. We probably both appeared somewhat insane: her with the hopping around and me with the tears and laughter from an overwhelming day. Once back inside, I needed a plan of attack for cleaning….everything. In my distracted state, I unleashed The Beast once more and once more she found herself on my couch. We had come so far only to find ourselves back at square one. Then, something miraculous happened. No, she didn’t jump down when I gave her the down command the first time…but when I said it again and took a step towards her, she scurried off the couch. Success! We were getting somewhere. I corralled The Beast into the bathroom then brought the supplies in from the car. I didn’t sleep that night or go to work the following morning. I was in over my head and had a lot of cleaning and researching to do. End Part One ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- SPOILER ALERT I don’t have any pictures of The Beast from the “It Begins” chapter of our saga because I didn’t have a cell phone with a camera at the time. I upgraded this past week. Looking at the pictures of her now is what inspired me to come here and tell our story. I didn’t find this thread until about the fourth month in, or what I call “The Epiphany,” and it seemed fitting that this would be the place I would share my experiences. It is not my intention to portray myself as a sympathetic character. I’m just telling it from my side (the only way I know how) and there will be some stuff as I recount our story that may downright piss people off. It happens. Now, let me properly introduce the other half of the cast. This is The Beast aka Luna. She makes the transition from The Beast to Luna around chapter three. This is her as of last night. Tomorrow starts our 9th month together. Luna and I on our "Crash-Couch" in my office at the new house.  Look at this Noble Beast!  Bonus: The Waking of Luna 
Warm Towel fucked around with this message at 22:00 on Sep 25, 2012 |
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Sep 25, 2012 21:57
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Warm Towel posted:PART ONE: It Begins OMG this post is amazing. I laughed my rear end off knowing all too well what you've been through. I can't wait for you to post more chapters, I'm in love. 
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Sep 25, 2012 22:16
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Aw man. There should be rules about shelters foisting huskies on the unsuspecting. She's such a pretty girl now!
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Sep 25, 2012 22:36
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Wait, that couch story (minus the poop) isn't what normally happens with a dog? Like I only really have Quaffle to compare to so I thought that was normal. When I want him to get off the couch or the bed (he's allowed on but sometimes he is In My Spot) telling him to get off doesn't work, but either shoving him or going into the next room to call him does, and he runs over all happy and waggy-tailed and body slamming to get petted. Luna is so lucky to have found you. I love how unimpressed she looks in her pictures.
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Sep 25, 2012 23:38
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Aravenna posted:Wait, that couch story (minus the poop) isn't what normally happens with a dog? Like I only really have Quaffle to compare to so I thought that was normal. When I want him to get off the couch or the bed (he's allowed on but sometimes he is In My Spot) telling him to get off doesn't work, but either shoving him or going into the next room to call him does, and he runs over all happy and waggy-tailed and body slamming to get petted. In the same vein..... My wife had a leash malfunction while hiking with Nori and our foster. Foster started to run off, in the middle of the woods, to parts unknown. She followed him for a bit and then thought 'Wait, what would guarantee that I would be flooded by unwelcome dog attention at home?' and offered Nori a treat, making a big show to tell him to sit and rustling the treat bag and bam, foster is suddenly right next to her and she snaps on the extra leash.
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Sep 26, 2012 00:03
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Every other dog that I've been around, when it was outside and decided to take off, would RUN and be out of sight in no time at all, so the owner would have to drive around trying to find it etc. The other day, Quaffle followed me into the front yard for a moment when I went to get the paper, and decided to Take Himself For a Walk. He peed on the neighbor's bushes then set off trotting down the sidewalk on our normal walking route, occasionally stopping to pee on a mailbox or a clump of weeds along the way. Totally unhurried. He kept turning around to make sure I was following him. Finally he turned around long enough for him to notice that I had kneeled down, and he came running back to get petted. Clearly he was trying to let me know that he is a big boy and knows how to walk himself, so I don't need to chaperone him on his walks anymore. I got the impression that if I hadn't followed him, he'd have just gone on a loop around the neighborhood and then come back to the house. Dog is smart.
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Sep 26, 2012 00:51
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PART TWO: Cage of Discontent Luna and I have a ritual we perform whenever I come home or whenever she is cranky/wants to play. She does this groan/yowl/mouthing combination where it sounds like she is trying to talk to convey anger or deep annoyance and I respond in an equally argumentative manner. It started back in those first couple weeks when she was frustrated with me and I with her because we couldn’t come to an agreement about the ‘when’ and ‘where’ of bathroom time. Luna had convinced herself that bathroom time was whenever I wasn’t looking and she was moving fast enough that she could pee in one part of the apartment and be in another by the time I looked up. It took me a couple days to wise up to her methods. You see, the reason I never caught her in the act was because at some point in her lineage, she had evolved the ability to piss on the fly. No squat and spray, but rather a skip and squirt method. What was especially infuriating about the entire thing was that I was taking her outside every fifteen minutes. Of course, when I say outside, I mean I would put her on the leash, and she would walk as far as my little patio before stopping dead in her tracks and refusing to step paw on the grass. To everyone else that had probably taken up habit watching Luna and I argue outside, it looked like the dog was taking her crazy girl for a walk again. I would stomp around in the grass chanting “Come on Luna! Let’s go to the bathroom! Bathroom! Come on girl, bathroom!” while she would stand on the cement patio and watch me. At one point, some neighbors that were out barbecuing took pity on me and sent their teenage son over to let me know that the dog was probably as weirded out as they were by my use of the word “bathroom” instead of “potty.” From that point forward, I would whisper the word ‘bathroom’ when outside unless I was certain no one was around. Luna may have taken my dignity, but she was not going to take my decorum. I refused to say ‘potty.’ It was a Mexican standoff between her and I. By the end of the first week I had done enough research to convince myself that crate training was not as cruel as it had initially sounded. What I had been doing during the work day was leaving her in the bathroom with a couple of those puppy pads on the floor. After her initial bout of diarrhea had subsided, she never messed the area. I would come home for lunch and let her out. Same for when I got home after work. She never had a problem using the bathroom outside during those times. It was always after the initial outing subsequent feeding that she would ninja piss in the house. I picked up the crate the first day when I bought the rest of the supplies, but after setting it up, it had remained sitting open and unused in a corner. Luna avoided it like the plague. Whenever I had tried to coax her towards it, she would wise up and go hide under my kitchen table. It was upsetting to me to see her cower when all I wanted to do was cuddle her and tell her everything was going to be alright, so I didn’t force the issue. I was a sap, and she played me like a fiddle. After I had steeled my resolve to finally go forward with the crate training, there must have been a discernable shift in the air because as I tried to nonchalantly stroll over to her as I had done so many times before, she clearly knew something was up and dove under the kitchen table. But this time I was prepared. Reaching over the kitchen counter, I pulled out a bag of doggie treats. She was intrigued, but not fooled. The clever little beast would only accept a treat from me if I was standing in the kitchen. No amount of coaxing could get Luna into the living room when I was offering her a treat. She KNEW. I’m not proud of what I had to do to get her in that cage. I was teetering somewhere between a Mommy Dearest’s “Metal Hangers” moment and closing myself in my closet to cry myself to sleep. What happened was somewhere in the middle. I coaxed her out from under the table into the kitchen for a treat, and then nabbed her by the collar before she could run off with the spoils. I then dragged/pushed her towards the cage. The chaos that ensued actually getting her into the cage was traumatizing for the both of us. She was yowling and making all types of gremlin noises. I started out mimicking her because that was all I had left in my emotional reserves, when out of nowhere I started yowling, “I WANNA BE A PWETTY GUUURRL MOMMA! I WANNA BE A PWETTY GUUURRRLLL!!” For those of you familiar with American Horror Story, you know the exact scene that Luna and I managed to recreate with a twist. It was a really upsetting scene in that TV series but it perfectly encapsulated the struggle between Luna and I at that moment---except she was Adelaide and I was Mrs. Langdon. We were in competition to see who could be the loudest and sound the most put out. I thought I had won with my inappropriate outburst, but her smug face and poised countenance combined with her effortless transition from struggle to happily gnawing on the cage bone told me that she put on that whole show just to see if I would flinch. I never had to physically force her into the cage again, but for the next couple weeks I did still have to take her by the collar and walk her in that direction whenever she needed to go in. By the time she would go to ‘jail’ on command, the ninja pissing had abated and we were on a solid agreed upon bathroom schedule. The groaning and yowling continued even without the physical struggle and I responded with my “Pwetty Gurl” spiel in kind. It was our first inside joke and it is still going strong whenever she is in play mode or just feeling cranky. End Part Two ------------------------------------------------------- SPOILER ALERT For the first five months, Luna was an enigma to me. We had our moments, but she was completely standoffish and only had two settings: avoid Warm Towel and PLAY NAO. Then, like a light switch, something just flicked on with her and I got to see the entire spectrum. She started hanging out with me instead of sauntering off to a corner to be on her own. She was still stubborn as a moose and moody like a tween, but she was willing to be those things around me. Luna hates it when I flick through the channels during commercials:  Luna giving her best Blue Steel in Mugatu's upcoming Derelict campaign: 
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Sep 26, 2012 02:56
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Such a beautiful girl deserves no less than the fantastic write-ups you're giving us. Bravo. 
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Sep 27, 2012 19:12
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Quaffle and I went to the local dog fair today. There were vendors and rescues and agility demonstrations and things like that, but we just wandered around and Quaffle got petted so that was enough fun for him. There really weren't a lot of primitive breeds there -- mostly a few Huskies, and a Klee Kai, and a Samoyed -- and then the BIGGEST Malamute I have ever seen in my life. It was the height of a Great Dane but with the proportions of a Malamute. It kind of freaked me out because I felt like I had shrunk like Alice in Wonderland. I knew there were giant Malamutes, but I just thought they were a little taller than normal but a lot more massive. This dog had to have been 29" or 30" at the shoulder, because Quaffle is 25" and this dog towered over him. There was also a dog whose owner said he was a German Shepherd/Malamute mix, which is what I normally claim Quaffle is, but that dog and Quaffle looked almost but not entirely unalike. Finally someone asked me what breeds he was, and I answered the above...then the person said she thought he looked like a Vlcak. He has dangly ears though? Now I'm wondering if people at the dog fair today were all thinking "oh no wolfdog!" when they saw Quaffle. He also got complimented on his flexibility when peeing on a tree, because one of his few skills is lifting his leg nearly above the level of his back. Someone needs to organize competitive tree peeing.
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Sep 29, 2012 20:01
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I'm shocked there was someone there who knew what a vlcak was!! They're getting more and more popular.
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Sep 29, 2012 21:41
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I know, I was so excited! I think I disappointed her when I said he was just a mix.  Maybe I will start claiming he is a Lab/Vlcak mix. I will call it a Labcak. A noble breed.
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Sep 29, 2012 21:49
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Warm Towel, your stories are hilarious because I know you're not exaggerating. I too, own a beautiful hellbeast, and we went through quite a bit crate training her. Just remember, you have to be the Bigger Bitch, always and forever. You give your beautiful pooch an inch, she will take ten miles, and make you pay in blood, sweat, and tears getting them back again. Photographic evidence of my pretty pretty princess. Be warned, they're HEUG. Taken by an actual good photographer when she was little:  Pooped after getting so much attention at a party:  After a very brief and unpleasant dip in the pool (silly puppy):  More recent, lying next to her food and water bowls:  Lying on the couch: 
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Oct 2, 2012 02:06
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I have a question: I recently saw online two adoption ad for half Newfie, half-Husky: Dog 1:   Dog 2:  These dogs appealed to me. I've always loved the temperament of newfoundlands but also loved the aesthetics of huskies (and other primitive dogs). And look at these dogs. Just look at them. And while I know people in these threads are big fans of pure-bred primitive assholeness, one of the other benefits is, as I understand it, cross-breeds can live longer than larger pure-bred dogs in part because of the genetic robustness. However, I also know that "hey it might be nice and also looks cool" are bad reasons to consider a dog breed. Additionally, I don't know where one would get a husky/newf mix if not from some sort of backyard breeder or natural accident sort of way, how the traits would be likely to mix (if they were predictable at all), or any other questions. Can anyone help a complete newbie begin to think about these questions? What are the relevant concerns to work through if, once I decide I can responsibly have a dog, I thought about trying to get a dog like this?
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Oct 2, 2012 02:25
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From what I've heard there's no way to predict what traits mixed breeds will gain, you could end up with all the traits you don't want from each breed. Looks to a certain extent you can see in a puppy but you can't know anything like how big they'll be or anything. Definitely can't know temperament, even pure bred dogs you can't know exactly what they'll be like it's just more likely for some breeds to have certain traits. Health problems can actually be a bigger issue with mixed breeds. You get higher risks for all the medical conditions the individual breeds have. As you got more and more mixed genetics in a dog it's possible that they'll be healthier but there's really no way of knowing. I would suggest if it were your first dog that you look for an adult anyway. Can be easier to deal with than a puppy and you'd be able to see what it looks like and what the temperament is like. Maybe not focus too much on what the exact mix is and keep an visit any rescues near you. You never know what they might have and the staff are more likely to be able to advise you on a good dog for you.
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Oct 10, 2012 11:51
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   Exciting vacation time!
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Oct 10, 2012 23:04
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Aggro is doing lots better. He hasn't tried eating a comforter in months, which is awesome. I was just wondering if anyone has experience with resource guarding and how to curb it. Kiba, while technically mine and my husband's dog, is attached to me like crazy. When husband was deployed last summer, and she was still really little, life was just she and me for a while. Now, Aggro and Kiba get along fine about 95% of the time, but the longer he's been here, the worse Kiba has gotten with resource guarding, which happens to be me. If I make food and go to eat it, she has to stand guard and growl if Aggro gets too close. Same for if I'm in bed and he approaches to be petted. She jumps in front of him, hackles go up, she curls her lip back, and she growls. I can tell her no and she'll eventually stop, but it happens every time. Even today, I had to run to the dentist's office to fill out a form, and so my husband took me, and took the dogs along as a treat. When I went inside the office, Aggro attempted to jump into the passenger seat. Kiba went into guard mode and growled until Aggro backed off and got back into the backseat with her. They were fine after that. The worst was a few weeks ago, when I was in the kitchen and they wandered into our bedroom, and I hear snarls and yelps. Turns out, Aggro batted an empty Gatorade bottle off of my desk, and Kiba wasn't having it and tried to nip him. I get that she's a guard dog and that she's protective by nature, but this is really ridiculous, and I don't want to have to limit my attention to Aggro because Kiba is being a huge snot about having to share her person.
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Oct 11, 2012 20:33
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Resource guarding is a pain in the rear end when it's over such a variety of things. I would go speak to a behaviourist and have them analyze your dogs in person. If you were in my area (S. Ontario) I know exactly who I'd send you to... I'm sure you'll be able to find someone suitable where you are too though. Look for someone who has a scientific approach to animal behaviour and doesn't utilize +punishment when addressing problems. In the interim, go out and buy/read Mine! by Jean Donaldson. It's mostly focused on dogs who resource guard items from people, however it still serves as a good crash course into how you're going to be approaching it with your dogs. The key to keeping a peaceful multi-dog household with a resource guarder is management. You need to keep guarded items away from the guarder, or you want to keep the dogs separate. You can bring them together when you're actively training, and training can indeed lessen the guarding, but you may never completely annihilate the behaviour in the same way you can with dogs guarding vs people. I'd also work on some basic obedience and some placement exercises. My behaviourist suggested we get dogs used to being moved from place to place on cue. As in, "Sparky, get up on this chair. Stay." "Roger, lay down on this mat. Stay." "Sparky, up on THIS chair." "Roger, into the kitchen."... It'll get the dogs used to deferring to you, and, of course, treats should be applied liberally during these exercises so the dogs enjoy the deferral and self control. Good luck!
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Oct 12, 2012 15:04
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Thank you! I'll definitely look around for a good behaviorist. I imagine it's not too difficult to find one in California.
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Oct 12, 2012 19:29
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Where in CA do you live? I might be able to recommend you one. In other news, looks like I might be getting a show puppy. Breeders are apparently interested in the puppy but don't want to commit in case she is too small, so the breeder is trying to talk me into show since if she doesn't turn out I'm happy with a pet.
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Oct 14, 2012 14:55
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paisleyfox posted:Where in CA do you live? I might be able to recommend you one. Dooooo iiiittttt!!!! Really, I think if you have the time/money for it, showing would be fun. The only thing to consider is if you want to deal with things down the road if she DOES turn out. Are you ok having her used in the breeder's breeding program? Either having the litter(s) in your home, or loosing your dog for a few months while she has puppies? If they just want a SHOW home with no breeding stipulations attached to it, I'd DEFINITELY go for it. That's just my opinion, though. a life less posted:The key to keeping a peaceful multi-dog household with a resource guarder is management. You need to keep guarded items away from the guarder, or you want to keep the dogs separate. You can bring them together when you're actively training, and training can indeed lessen the guarding, but you may never completely annihilate the behaviour in the same way you can with dogs guarding vs people. Definitely this. It's really hard to say before doing any training with the issue how much is just the dog getting used to having someone else there, and how much is just part of her nature. You need someone to see the behaviors in action to help evaluate the situation, and to help clue you in to cues your dogs are giving off that something is going to occur. I'd say after getting settled with a training routine, the biggest part of "management" down the line is knowing what signals your dogs are giving off (for all you know, Aggro is putting something out there, too) and stopping things before they can even start. Also, you'd better start posting some drat pictures, I want to see how Aggro's coat is coming in. 
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Oct 14, 2012 16:11
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WolfensteinBag posted:Dooooo iiiittttt!!!! Well, she is still working on the contract, but basically, she wants me to try show, if I hate it, I can send her back to her for her to finish her fast (she said she can finish dogs in a month or two, you just keep going to shows) and she will come back to me. She also told me she only wanted one litter out of her if she does turn out, which would go to her for that, then back to me as a pet (as I am understanding it, we are still working things out and I haven't for sure agreed.) She only lives about 10-11 hours away from us and I know I am welcome over there at any time, so I can probably go to hang out with her for some of that while she is doing the puppy thing. I'm just hoping she does not turn out for show so I can just do normal dog stuff, but I am kind of interested in show, and this breeder and the other ones I like are all great, staying away from the drama of the club llamas etc. But we will find out more in a few weeks. PUPPY (she is 7 weeks in this picture we took on Friday at Nationals in OKC. Shiba puppies are so bitty! And so bitey!) 
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Oct 14, 2012 17:35
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Oh god look at that smug loving puppy Do it do it do it you can tell us all how totally insane the showing world is and the gossip will be fabulous do itttt
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Oct 14, 2012 19:22
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Well, that's only if I can get Sasha adopted. Home number 5 (who was supposed to take her home TODAY) backed out last minute. I refuse to have her ruin a puppy. She's already ruining my dog who I am sure I need to work on to get his confidence back once she leaves.
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Oct 14, 2012 20:00
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Hi guys! I'm in the process of reading through the entire thread (ohgodwhydididecidetodothis), and I've learned a lot, though I'm still just back in 2010. I grew up in Seriously Northern Though Not Quite Arctic Canada (Yellowknife, NWT), which is where the Canadian Championship Dog Derby takes place, and a lot of our friends used to race but still kept a team to keep their bloodline going, or were still actively racing to some degree (our current dog is possibly the runt of a short-distance, she was bonkers in the best way when we got her 14 years ago, and she's only a tiny bit less nuts now). The CCDD is a shorter distance race, 150 miles and they do it over two days. The dogs bred for it are generally lighter coated than the typical husky, lean, and leggy. Anyway, I thought I'd share some pictures with you guys that my Dad took of the dogs doing their thang when we still lived there. It was also pretty common for us to come across teams practicing when we'd be out skiing on one of the lakes, it was amazing to see how much fun these dogs were having, and how focused they were.  One of the dogs in this image is just about a dead ringer for mine, just larger (the black and tan in the orange harness to the left of the person in the middle). Hosting from my PB account. (Dad's flickr has embedding disabled or something so I'll just link to the relevant gallery, though it doesn't have anywhere near everything, he's still in the process of going through decades of negatives...) I don't have a huge personal understanding of how this style of dog is bred, or the history of the types found in my area, but some of them are pretty far from 100% husky. They're very much for a type, and other breeds are frequently brought in to reinforce or introduce characteristics that people think will improve the quality of the dog. BCs (especially obvious in one of the dogs in this image) are added from time to time, as are German Shorthaired Pointers (never been to clear on why, but from what I remember it was kind of a thing in my area like 15-20 years ago to do this). If you guys want more shots of the fuzzbutts in action/ have any questions you'd like to pass me along about the dogs to my Dad, let me know and I'll ask :> Edited like 3 times because it's been ages since I last used BBCode. PartyCrown fucked around with this message at 16:30 on Oct 17, 2012 |
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Oct 17, 2012 16:28
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YES POST MORE! I love reading about this type of stuff! I'm a little frazzled trying to clean house before my mom gets here this afternoon. Do you still do this? What kinds of dogs do you have? Also I won't be getting the puppy afterall. She's going to a show home in California. Oh well. I'll probably still be getting into show in the next few years, though. Also, I already know some club specific drama. 
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Oct 17, 2012 16:47
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I'm not 100% sure on how breeders deal with show dog puppies, but I think you can't teach the dog to sit since it's an automatic disqualfier in the ring. Just something to keep in mind!
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Oct 17, 2012 16:55
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a life less posted:I'm not 100% sure on how breeders deal with show dog puppies, but I think you can't teach the dog to sit since it's an automatic disqualfier in the ring. Just something to keep in mind! Oh my goodness, yes. I figured this out this past weekend when I kept automatically asking the dogs to sit for popcorn. Drives me crazy! I was thinking I might be able to differentiate when the show lead is on that means to bait and when the show lead is not on, you can sit. Would that be impossible?
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Oct 17, 2012 17:15
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