Bitch on the Blog

August 2, 2017

More dog

Filed under: Amusement,Animals,Beauty,Cats,Human condition — bitchontheblog @ 12:17

Our perception is shaped by the experiences we have had. It’s why I view the Spitz (the smaller the worse) with deep suspicion. I am convinced Spitz are vicious – by temperament. I wasn’t even jogging. I was riding my bike when this Spitz took a shine to both my left foot and the pedal, yapping away. They certainly expend an awful lot of energy to little effect. A bit like … no, I won’t say it.

The larger the dog the better. Though will draw a line. Anything bigger than a German Shepherd is too big. Mind you, one of the most magnificent dogs (mega) I ever had the privilege to meet was that of LSF’s family. An Hungarian Shepherd (a Kuvasz?). White. Curly fur. The size of a calf. He loved me in a way most unwelcome. What is becoming in a puppy is a bit daunting in an adult. I’d come through the door and – by way of greeting – he (the dog, not my friend) would put his front paws on my shoulders, his head towering over me (at least he didn’t lick my face). Though strong I was only a slip of a girl and, my back being pinned to the back of the door, I’d slowly slide down it under the dog’s weight. Still, sooner or later someone would pass by and save me. Yes, that dog was one hell of a beauty. And a wonderful spirit.

Come to think of it, Spitz aren’t the worst. Collies are. Collies, Lassie not withstanding, are most definitely prone to neurotic behaviour. Mental. Mind you, some say the same of Dobermans. I once read a book written from the point of view of a Doberman. I was about twelve. Heartbreaking. I cried. Let no one say anything about Dobermans. Intelligent dogs. I believe most dogs to be a reflection of their owner and Dobermans appear to be particularly sensitive. So if you come across a disturbed Doberman beware of the owner.

Then there are the aesthetically dubious ones – like naked dogs. Say, those racing dogs – greyhounds. Though, in their long legged way, they are rather elegant – a bit like Coco Chanel in her little black dress, tooth hound black and white box jacket and a string of pearls.

Some dogs I’d rather not comment on. Otherwise I’ll have John and Winnie on my case.

Oh yes, not to forget the Dackel. A small sausage dog. Very sweet. Enormously trusting. Beautiful auburn colour. My youngest sister pestered my father for one till he cracked. Tini (pronounce teenee) was a hoot. One of the most endearing memories I have when my brother (even as a teenager he was man enough not to mind being seen with a very small dog) took Tini for walks. The tall slim young man with sky high legs in skinny jeans with a sausage on the leash. Sweet. It really was. I like it when people are not self conscious.

There was a moment in my life when I came close to becoming a dog owner in my own right. Not that I particularly wanted to be. But I will  take gladly what life throws at me (as long as it’s not shit). Father-of-son and I met up with his parents in some Yorkshire pub. Or maybe it was in the Lake District. Anyway, there they were, in front of a blazing fire – a pile of black long haired toddler stage Labradors tumbling round and over their mother. FOS was the closest I’d ever seen him to yield in the face of such joie de vivre and beauty. Even on the way back down South he talked about them non stop, me fully expecting him to turn the car round any moment now, zoom back and make the breeder an offer. Still, his particular brand of reason prevailed. Pity. A dog would have suited him.

Please do inundate me with your own dog stories. They need to be told.




  1. My dog story is very simple. We have a pure Indian Native dog called Chutki. It was picked from the road after a car had run over its hind legs and we brought her home and she mended till now there is no trace of the two fractures. When she is with my son and daughter in love she thinks that she is a human being and when she is with me she thinks of me as a dog.

    Comment by rummuser — August 2, 2017 @ 14:00 | Reply

    • There is an order in the world, my dear Ramana. At least in India. One that Chutki clearly is aware of and observes. Do you ever growl at her demands?


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 00:55 | Reply

  2. Where to start? As you already know I’m a Staffie lover having been brought up with them. Father bred them back int eh days when they were not abused by ignorant “youf”. i.e. the 1940s and 50s.
    Your mention of Dachel reminded me of Zsa Zsa and Rubirosa… both Black and Tan Dachshunds and named after “Society” figures. When my wife’s boss, Mrs Murray, went off on holiday we would have charge of said hounds, who got on really well with Jill the Staff(Kennel Name Red Terror).
    All I knew of Zsa Zsa was that she was one of three sisters who were beautiful and as for Rubrosa he was a lathario with lots of women “friends”.

    Have to say that the vision of a daschund confronting a badger always puzzled me, to say the least.

    Comment by magpie11 — August 2, 2017 @ 14:42 | Reply

    • Yes, read up on Staffies courtesy of en.wikipedia. Interesting. Not least the bull bit. What appears, to my laywoman’s eye, different to other bull terriers that they still have an intact snout/nose. Which, of course, and I have little sympathy that dogs like that are bred, is lacking in similar breeds. Making them breathless. How inconsiderate, not to say cruel, is that?

      Zsa Zsa Gabor? Despite her magnificent name not quite in the same league as the ravishing Ekberg in the Trevi Fountain. I have a marvellous shot somewhere in my archives of Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell, sitting down, next to each other, skirts flung sideways – waiting to get back onto set. Wow. Those were the days when women still had (shapely) thighs and not afraid to show them. And what of Sophia Loren? Dear dog in heaven. I always felt she could have eaten innocent little Bardot alive. See, this is what happens. One minute you talk about dogs, the next you talk about Brigitte and her quest to save the world.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 00:52 | Reply

  3. My current dog Ginger is half collie and half basset hound. We got her from a shelter with the intent of having her be a companion for my late wife Lynn while she was battling Huntington’s Disease. Unfortunately Lynnwas prone to violent outbursts almost daily ad Ginger took exception to my being attacked. Se then became my dog. She is a great dog – loves kids. Prior to Ginger our best dog was a Brittany Spaniel named Pups. Other than her propensity to run off on occasion she was also a great dog. At one time or another, I have had a Samoyed, a Cocker Spaniel and Lynn had a Pekinese when we met. I tend to agree with your comments on small dogs – those little yappers can be just plain mean. I never met a Chihuahua that liked me.

    I cannot remember a time when I have not had a dog nor can I imagine not having one.

    Comment by Chuck McConvey — August 2, 2017 @ 16:01 | Reply

    • A brave person who adopts dogs from shelters. My youngest sister has done so for years. Undeterred in the face of many a difficulty. As the spoil sport will say: You’ll never know what you get (reference to the dog’s previous history). Reminds me of father-of-son to whom I suggested we might adopt a child to share in the Angel’s good fortune. Answer? See above “You’ll never know what you get”. A resounding NO.

      Interesting what you say about dog’s taking exception to outbursts. Even if raised voices are unintentional, as in Lynn’s case, they don’t like it. Who would? Animals are sensitive to their surroundings. Like humans. Some more, some less. Reminds me of an episode (which I may have related before) in the lobby of a five star hotel in Athens. The reason I mention the five stars because you’d think the clientele in such an elevated environment to be refined. I know you, Chuck, will get the essence of my last sentence. No riff raff. Oh dear. So there was this guy, about my age at the time, standing at reception. Treating his dog (German Shepherd/Alsation) like shit. The dog clearly torn between being proud and quivering. His pride losing the battle. It was awful. Quite a young dog too. Anyway, never being backward in coming forward and with my own chaperone out of sight and earshot, I approached that guy (he was Greek). In a domestic setting he’d have hit me. As it were, in public, he didn’t. You know what, Chuck. I could have kicked myself afterwards realizing that, more likely than not, he’d take my “intervention” out on the dog. Or, maybe just maybe, I made him hesitate for a moment. In truth? Don’t think so.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 01:18 | Reply

  4. So, I have come up for air, and I am here to wade through the morast.

    Hmmmmm. Easy things first: I am originally from Stuttgart, but I am currently living in the US. I traded in Schnitzel and potato salad for hamburger and fries. Not a wise choice on the culinary front. When I comment on other blogs, you can click on my name and my profile comes up. On your blog that does not seem to work. Maybe because I have a google account but no blog? Don’t know.

    I feel compelled to comment on the situation/feelings between your family members as it clearly weighs heavily on your mind. I’m not sure what to say, though, as I often think it is what it is. Family relationships can be very complicated and difficult. I am no stranger to your sister’s feelings. But that just as a side note.

    Now, on to your post entitled ‘Punctured’ (July 31): You are not actually naming the blogger. Ursula, I have never thought of you as a dishonest person, BUT, BUT, BUT if by saying “..innocent’s name..” and “.. (Iris) you don’t know who..” you mean that you were NOT talking about TS, I simply don’t believe you. That is contradictory. I know. But there we have it.

    I am going to list some things, which may sound as if I agree with your opinion about TS. But you know that I don’t. But to support my point: to Kylie you say that this blogger takes down your comments while commenting on them. TS has done that. To Magpie you say that he keeps up your name weeks later “..most amazing sense of humoUr..”. TS has done that. As a matter of fact, he brought up your name in a comment just a day before your own post on July 30 in ‘Riots in Hackney’. To Mullien you make a reference to the (I think) playful competitiveness with John about comment numbers and a “..peeping Tom”.

    Ursula!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And now don’t make any remarks about how ‘beautifully’ I have compiled everything. Of course, I have! We are talking about it! So there.

    So, that leaves the “curtain twitcher” and the references to me in your following posts. As I don’t have the context of your initial reply I only have my own definition of it to go on. A term of endearment it’s not. Hmmmm. Should I be offended? I’m not. Of course, you didn’t mean it in a kind way, but it’s somehow going right over my head. In my definition a curtain twitcher is someone who spies on their neighbors. That cannot be exactly what you meant, though. After all, I am only looking at things on the interweb which people have put out there publicly. Not really spying, is it?

    Now on to your further references to me in ‘Through Your Nose’ and ‘Miaou’: “..Iris will fill you in..” (on the Dextro Energen) and “..ask Iris..”. It sounds a little bit like a beleidigte Leberwurst (try translating that). Hmmmm. Now it get’s a little bit difficult to put my thoughts on it into actual words. It’s not because we are speaking English. It would be equally difficult if we spoke German with each other. It’s just a complicated matter, that’s it.

    Maybe I can sum it up like this: YOU have a blog on which YOU posted an entry in which YOU did not name someone. I piped up like the little radish from the third row and said what I said on YOUR blog. I’m guessing that you think that I had no business to do so. I even agree. But here is the tricky part: I’m not sorry. I knew that you would not approve of it. How could you? And, yet, I went ahead full steam. To me, and I’m the one in question here, the roundabout/I’m saying something while I’m not really saying anything way of the post irked me to no end. It still does. I would just file this stuff away in a private diary and blog about anal fissures, or something. I’m just throwing this suggestion out there to lighten the mood.

    So, where are we after all this? We disagree on more than one thing. Oh, well. We’ll live.

    PS: We also disagree on dogs. I am the owner of my third Kleinspitz. None of them have ever been yappy or snappy. I actually think that a dog sometimes adopts part of the owner’s personality. If you are a calm person, they are calm. Aaaaaaaaaand, Spitz are incredibly smart. I always tell my husband that our Kleinspitz is on her way to getting her degree as a physicist while our Maltese would have problems just getting into Kindergarden.

    Comment by Iris — August 2, 2017 @ 21:50 | Reply

    • You don’t think me “dishonest”. That’s good. Because I am not.

      I believe there to be an etiquette in blogging which should be observed. I didn’t mention the culprit’s name. You should have respected that. Instead of which you threw a name into the ring. That’s why I called you a curtain twitcher, as in “gossip”. The gossip, and – some years ago – I became the most unfortunate victim of one, is a mischief maker. Even if your guess were right it wasn’t your place to bring up a name. I specifically said in my original post that I could name and shame the culprit but wouldn’t. Surely, that should have been hint enough as to my intention. Let those whom the shoe fits recognize themselves.

      It doesn’t matter, Iris. We all make mistakes. Not least yours truly. My years of blogging have been a massive learning curve. Since you mention TS let’s stick with one of the worst offenders of internet etiquette. He insults people (even those who are of his inner circle). Sure, you may say, it’s his style and isn’t it “funny”. It isn’t. As it happens I actually once drew to his attention that the way he talks about me amounts to slander, is a legal offence, to be filed under “libel”. Like the little Rumpelstilzkin he is he took major umbrage at a harmless, if valid, remark. He sneered that I must be a cleaner in legal chambers, as such not qualified. Charming, don’t you think? Anyway, what do you mean:TS? It’s not his real name. That’s the underhand fraud he is. Still, we all are capable of digging our own grave. He is a fast digger. And, as I said before, if you think TS is the only one who behaves abominably in blogland you live a sheltered life. Not, of course, that YOU do think he behaves abominably. Which is why it’s hilarious that you should “identify” him as the one I was, allegedly, referring to.

      That was fun.

      Spitz. My “evidence” was anecdotal, empirical – not scientific. I am glad you are happy with your Spitz; don’t give the Maltese a bad name but my best greetings.

      Enjoy your fries,

      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 00:41 | Reply

      • On the one hand I don’t want to drag this out any further, but on the other hand I want to say these last things: I have always known that TS is not his real name. I do know his real name. He even states in his posts that it is not his real name. There is nothing fraudulent in that. And then you say that it’s “hilarious” that I identify him as ‘the one’. You and I are just like two ships that keep passing each other in the fog. I identified him by what you said, not because I share your opinion about him. And nowhere did I ever say that I think that TS is the only one who behaves abominably in blogland (which he does in your opinion, not in mine). About your reply about the Spitz: I think that your reply/defense illustrates what TS calls your lack of humor. I, on the other hand, think that you take things to literally. My comment about the Spitz was not scientific, either, so …………??????

        I’ll let it be now. Over and out.

        Comment by Iris — August 3, 2017 @ 16:59 | Reply

        • As superfluous replies go you have succeeded. You are saying nothing new. Neither do you have the grace to admit that maybe, just maybe, you did overstep the mark. And that it wasn’t your call to name names. Instead you justify your interference on flimsy excuses. Don’t worry about it: I love picking up people on their shortcomings. Little gives me more pleasure – humourless bitch that I am.

          And before you set the Spitz on me, I agree that maybe you and I are not a match made in blog heaven. I don’t like meddlers and you have – not necessarily with bad intentions – once more proven to be one.

          As you say, let’s leave it there. Enjoy TS – till he finds fault with you. Not, of course, that he will. Sycophants tend to be beyond reproach. On the other hand, should you ever feel need to needle his Achilles heel let me know. I know exactly where it is. Not that I am telling.

          And just to feed the gossip and leave you satisfied: A trait Tom and I share, among others, being supremely arrogant. However, where we differ is that I am forgiving, will never give up and am genuinely interested in him. He, on the other hand, is vengeful, unforgiving, and only interested in himself. Other than that I adore the man. Can’t wait to buy him a drink next time I am in his neighbourhood. I have forged friendships with worse adversaries.

          Leberwurst indeed. Oh, Iris.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 18:03 | Reply

  5. Every dog I have ever had was a rescue (there was a designer dog who lived with us for some time as his “dad” was incarcerated. That was not a rescue, he wasnt even mine. he didn’t last long, he jumped under a car and that was the end of that.
    I’m sure you aware that our current dog caused some consternation in his earliest days with us so we hired a trainer to help us sort it all out. The trainer told us all kinds of dog stories, including one in which the male of the household kept getting bitten by the dog. The trainer assessed the dog to be happy and not aggressive so had to assume that there was something odd happening in the house. Some time after he had finished his sessions with the family, the man left the household and the dog settled down to be the perfect image of mans best friend. The dog knew a trouble maker when he saw it and tried to eject the man, stopping him from destabilising the pack.

    Comment by kylie — August 3, 2017 @ 03:41 | Reply

    • To bring in a professional is an excellent idea. And, yes, of course I know of your dog. Very photogenic. Which can’t be said of yours truly. Or maybe that’s what I look like in real life.

      Interesting story you tell. One of my sister’s rescue dogs whimpered every time a man (trousers/voice) entered the house; she’d take immediate refuge either behind the sofa or my sister. “No prizes guessing what type of household she came from”, my sister would remark wryly.

      I am in knots, Kylie. I have just been over to yours and can’t believe all I have been missing. How did that happen? I do check on you regularly (though can’t provide “evidence”). Camels, dumpster diving, cheese? I am scandalized at myself. Hope you’ll forgive me. May the next Camel take me to the nearest desert. I’ll have to think on your evidence article a little before spouting any nonsense.

      Greetings to the hound,

      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 09:13 | Reply

  6. I have no dog stories of any interest. I’ve never owned a dog, though my parents had two Scottish Terriers when I was a kid. I have no problems with dogs apart from the over-enthusiastic ones leaping all over me, licking me etc. I could do without that. Dogs have never bitten me or attacked me. They usually only do that if they’ve been treated badly. But I prefer cats – far more intelligent and independent.

    Comment by nick — August 3, 2017 @ 09:45 | Reply

    • I knew you’d say that. Don’t fret, Nick. I don’t mean to imply that you are predictable. Also I was hoping someone would throw a cat into the discussion. As you may remember I am a cat person through and through. As much as I may like dogs (in principle) if I were given the choice between a dog, a cat and a hamster I’d choose the cat. It’s partly for practical reasons: As you say, cats are independent. With a dog I can never help feeling they are expecting something from you. Like attention. Which, naturally, if – for whatever reason – you can’t provide that entertainment THIS minute – leaves me feeling guilty. Feeling guilty is awful. I hate it. So I tend to avoid situations where potential for guilt lurks in the background. and that includes dogs.

      Mind you, Nick, be careful about claims as to cats being more intelligent than dogs. I don’t know about that. I have known highly intelligent and remarkably stupid in both cats and dogs. What I do believe, knight me now for my insight, that sometimes we, humans, mistake aloofness for intelligence (in both humans and cats). Not so.

      As an aside, considering that Jenny and you don’t have children I’ll give you credit not having fallen for the ruse of keeping dogs instead. I don’t condemn anyone for calling themselves Mummy and Daddy or, worse, Granny and Granda, to their families’ pups. Not at all. I just cringe instead. And my toes curl.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 3, 2017 @ 10:00 | Reply

      • We’ve never wanted the responsibility of looking after a child or an animal. We’re happy to leave that to other people. Mind you, if one of us died, I suspect the other might very well acquire a cat for the company. Jenny sometimes toys with the idea of keeping a cat.

        Comment by nick — August 4, 2017 @ 14:51 | Reply

  7. We were adopted by the most wonderful Rough Collie. Gentle, clean, loves people, adores children. Not a neurotic bone in his body.

    Norwegian Elkhounds, proud, stubborn, loyal to their family. Our last one most the neurotic bitch. Abandoned several times by those who ere supposed to care for her. But deep down there was a gentle soul who wanted to be loved.

    Dogs, I loathe are Maltese. The poor Collie was attacked by one on his walk. The Maltese person thought it was funny!

    Bad people make bad dogs.

    Comment by WonderCollie — August 9, 2017 @ 00:37 | Reply

    • Wonder Collie, hi. I agree with you: “Bad people make bad dogs”. What I want to know why are people bad (to dogs) in the first place?

      “Norwegian Elkhound”? Sounds majestic, myself having a rather romantic notion of elks and their headgear. Do you live in Norway?

      As to the “Maltese person thought it was funny”: Reminds me of how annoying, particularly when you are out and about with small children, people with dogs off the leash will tell you that their dogs are “friendly”. I am sure they are. Though, I dare say, from the point of view of a toddler’s height they might think they are having an encounter equivalent to an adult’s with a bull. Slightly veering off the subject: I sometimes think people don’t give much thought to toddlers seeing the world from a very different perspective considering that they are at an adult’s knee cap height – whether walking or in a pushchair. Which is why I frequently not only picked up my son but also carried him in my arms so he could see it all from “above”.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 10, 2017 @ 15:28 | Reply

      • Canada is home. The Elkhound is used to hunt Moose in Norway. Some interesting videos of them at work on YouTube. They aren’t as big as you might expect. But are very stubborn and opinionated.

        We’ve always taught our dogs to sit when approached by people. So poor Mr. Collie was attacked while sitting at my side. It was like watching a gentle giant be attacked by the rambunctious peasants. His front leg feathers were shredded and luckily no lasting damage done (apart from instilling a fear of small, white, fluffy dogs). He also views Pomeranians with suspicion now. He’s so well known in the neighbourhood that if one of our adult sons are spotted out with him, they are stopped and asked where the owners are!

        What I’ve never understood is having the child sit facing your knees in a pushchair! I always adjusted ours to the boy in it saw the world!

        Comment by WonderCollie — August 13, 2017 @ 20:27 | Reply

        • Canada? How romantic. A young man falls in love without hope, leaves the motherland, escapes to Canada to fell trees. If this sounds like a thrash novel – it is. Happened to a friend of mine. Can’t trace him – not for want of trying. My guess a bear got him first.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — August 14, 2017 @ 19:48 | Reply

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