It’s my buddy’s birthday today. He’s a whole 3 years old and starting to act his age. If you call romping into the house, smelling a bit like a certain French, striped cartoon character, and trying to wipe his grin and the new smell off on the kitchen floor acting his age, yah, definitely 3.
Ole Sweet Pea likes long walks, anywhere really, chasing anything that runs, and his communication collar. Yup, loves that collar. Jumping up and down with a minor bit of incontinence when I get it out. He knows we are going for a WALK! He is double German, so everything is EXCLAMATIONS with this boy.
I got the collar when we first got him. He was 1 year old, full of mischief and kinda hard of hearing, is what his previous human caretaker had told me. I had grown up with hunting dogs and he being half German Shorthair and half Weimaraner, I knew communication was key to our happiness. It has 1 vibration (buzz) setting and 7 “stimulation” settings. Number 7 makes me wet my pants and not with excitement. It is good out to 500 yards and that’s important for a dog that is known to hunt at a gallop, and his nose will overrule his common sense.
He took right to it. Normal work setting was a buzz for attention and number 4 for a reminder. I tried all the settings on me and I can’t feel number 4. He was able to rip around and I was able to call him back and training went quickly. Amazingly, his hearing improved within a very short time. We did have some testing and he learned that I can be Alpha Dog from a great distance. No matter what happened, he came back from walk/run a happy boy.
One of the more endearing traits he brought to us was looking you in the face, ’cause you’re laying in bed and it is 2AM, and growling to let you know he had to go potty. The growling increased until you got up. This happened the first night we had him and I was wondering if we had brought a wolf home. He still does it now and then, to keeps us sharp, I think.
His favorite time is around sundown. He has gotten his running about and smelling everything done, maybe a little nap after that. We are in the kitchen and I get 2 fingers of my heart medicine, the Mrs has something that includes ice. He looks at me, sits, as I dip my little finger into the shot glass and let him lick it off, with gusto. Then the wife tosses him an ice cube and he noisily crunches that down. All is now right in his world. All he needs is a smoking jacket and ascot.
Since the Mrs saves all her bacon grease, yes we make our own and you should too, he has taken a real liking to having that drizzled over his chow. And lately, oatmeal. I eat oatmeal for breakfast, not because I like it, but it contributes to my latest questioning by a nurse on why I don’t take blood pressure medicine. I asked why should I. She indicated that after a certain age, males need help to keep them from pushing up daisies. I told her I was pure of heart and had the strength of … She told me to put a sock in it and took my blood pressure. 120/80 and she just looked at me, packed up her stethoscope, looked at me again, and stepped out the door. That’s why I eat oatmeal.
However, some days, I can just barely stomach the stuff. I noticed the dog kind of pointedly staring at me on those days and I thought, what the heck, maybe he’ll finish the oatmeal cause I can’t, and poured it on his food. It was a major hit. He bugs me for it all the time now. If I want to go whole hog, he gets bacon grease and oatmeal. He usually comes back to thank you by wiping his muzzle all over your leg. Or my leg, he does not do that to the wife.
So, it’s happy birthday to my buddy, guardian watchdog, goofball and terror to vermin. I’ve noticed a lot less tax assessors and Jehovah Witnesses since you showed up. Possibly the very reason our ancient ancestors domesticated your kin in the first place. Forward thinking folk.