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Dogs Quotes

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Dogs Quotes

“A single "woof" ---Mike was waiting watching. He jumped the busted fence when he saw me coming rushed over so he could greet me properly. I dropped to one knee soaked up Mike's welcome and everything about my bad day ran off me like rainwater rushing along the edge of the road to the drain. Having someone who loves you enough to wait in the dreary weather someone who's happy to see you no matter what mood you're in... there's nothing better than that.”

“There's nothing as useful as the truth, in terms of ruining anyone's day, week, month, year, decade, or life… Unless, of course, you own a remotely operated automatic flamethrower-drone-tower and have some marinated pork-chops on your person, to lure unsuspecting dogs in close proximity to it, but since dogs don’t really have lives - by using this specific method of torture, you can only improve the remaining few seconds of their existence.”

“As a child I had grown up around individual dogs that belonged to various members of an extended family and friends, as well as around packs of dogs on family's and neighbors' ranches. Growing up in the United States, I had countless encounters with both familiar dogs and strange dogs. Through the many encounters and interactions with many dogs over the course of a lifetime of now 5+ decades, I have learned to read the behavior of dogs quite well, and eventually have come to understand much about dog-psychology, how to behave around them, how to handle them, and how to train them to acceptably behave – all in the most instinctive and natural way possible.”

“And so I learned by observation, interaction, and experience - as well as active study and research - growing up and throughout my life how to understand dog-psychology, how to behave around dogs, and how to physically handle them (without fear or worry of being bitten) if/when necessary. I've had both good and bad experiences with countless dogs thus yielding many lessons learned as well as useful insights which will be shared with you throughout the course of this book.”

“This book is divided into chapters, though not in the traditional chapter division of subject matters. This is because this book also serves as a photojournal of moments from Sadie's first few months of life documented here in dated photos. Thus subsequent chapters after the first are divided into chapters by the date of the photos taken - mostly weekly every seven days on the weekly anniversary (Tuesday) of her birth. Another reason that I have done this is because training a GSD puppy from the age of 4 weeks 5 days entirely on my own has been a “sink or swim” type of learning experience for me, and I would like you to experience with me the raising of Sadie (and the learning/realization of things as I learned/realized them) here in this photojournal if at all possible.”

“Dogs are social animals by nature, and a few need extra interest than others. However, in case your dog seems clingier than standard, it could sign something extra huge. Whether your canine is feeling stressed, bored, or absolutely following its breed instincts, knowing why they’re so connected will help you respond higher to their needs. Let’s dive into the 10 reasons why your canine may be so clingy and the way you could deal with each of these troubles. 10 Reasons Why Your Dog Is So Clingy 1. Separation Anxiety 2. Lack of Confidence 3. Health Problems 4. Age-Related Issues 5. Breed Traits 6. Changes in Routine or Environment 7. Boredom 8. Unintentional Reinforcement 9. Past Trauma 10. Protective Instincts”

“...I discovered a small kitten in the garden, which apparently had been abandoned by its mother. I picked it up and noticed that its hind legs were crippled in just the same way as Tsering's were when she died. I took this creature into my house and looked after it until eventually it was able to walk. Like Tsering, she was also female, but very beautiful and even more gentle. She also got along very well with the two dogs, particularly Sangye, against whose furry chest she liked to lie.”

“Sometimes the world feels cold and lonely, and God's love an ocean away. Then, all of a sudden, we're graced with the sloppy wet kiss of an adorable mutt reminding us how deeply we are loved.”

“When Lad died, in September of 1918, I collected the ten or twelve yarns I had written about him, and I tried to sell the collection as a book under the name, Lad: A Dog. I was told that there had been no worthwhile dog books since Bob, Son Of Battle and The Call Of The Wild and that the public did not want that kind of fiction. There was no demand; there was no possible profit. Any volume with a canine hero was foredoomed to fall flat.”

“However things took an unexpected turn when, out of the blue, the host of the radio show asked me who I would consider to be the best dog fiction writer ever. I don't think I have ever been asked that question before, nor can I remember thinking about it seriously, however I knew what my answer would be immediately—Albert Payson Terhune. – Stanley Coren, ‘The Best Dog Fiction Writer Ever? – Psychology Today online article.”

“Dogs share 99% of their genes with wolves and can have children with each other. However, both are also so closely related to a whole host of other species that it is possible to for them to produce fertile offspring with jackals, coyotes, the Australian dingo, the African wild dog, Arctic foxes, and the Black fox Coren (2013). The species boundary is obviously not a barrier for reproduction. And of course, all types of dogs are able to cross-breed.”

“I can't serve SPIT to my friends." "Would you give any of them blood? A kidney?" "Of course. They can have the organ of their choice." This makes me think about Grant's friend Jenna, who gave her best friend part of her liver, sadly to no avail. Grant and I used to double-date occasionally with Jenna and her husband Elliot, and I loved them both. They live not far from here, but I didn't tell them when I moved into the Palmer house. They were his friends, not mine, and I'm sad to have lost them in the split. Although they do have the worst-behaved dog on the planet, who slobbered all over Schatzi the one time we tried to meet at the dog park, and ate my purse the last time they had us over for dinner, so maybe it isn't the worst loss.”

“And the olfactory part of a dog’s brain is forty times larger than a human’s; depending on the breed, a dog can have up to 300 million olfactory receptors in his nose, compared to about 6 million in ours. Even with that extreme superiority in equipment, dogs don’t merely smell a superstrong version of what we smell (or don’t smell); instead, they can perceive multiple layers of smell, which gives dogs a far greater range of information.”

“A hound has a genuine and profound distrust of the general scheme of things in this life. Melancholy of an ancient and appealing sort is his. What makes his pessimism worthy of regard is the fact that it has its source in remarkably sagacity. His honest and steadfast refusal to be optimistic not only lends to his character a noble severity but also gives to his philosophy the serene charm of truth. He invariably seems to me to belong to an older and a wiser generation, which regards the behavior of all other living things as an exceedingly juvenile performance. A hound is the only dog that can make me self-conscious of my own ridiculousness. Fixed by his appraising eye, I shrink into my true stature.”

“I love a hound because he appears to me to be a dog of some spiritual significance. His sagacity begins where that of most dogs ends; where his ends, I know not. He has a perception poignant and true. He has taught me much about life. My obligation to him is that unpayable debt that we owe to one aa who has given us an insight into the meaning of existence; whose spiritual genius has led us to understand that life has about it a great deal more magic and mystery than people with dismally literal minds would have us believe; whose prescient hand has set ajar for us casements of the soul, through which are far gleams of what may be, for all I know, the gorgeous frontiers of Eternity.”

“Repetitive, forceful corrections had taught this gentle dog that at a specific spot the handler would always yank the lead. Thus, each time the Newf arrived at that point, she'd freeze for a beat and close her eyes in anticipation of the impending blow. This caused her to lag, which led to another correction, which resulted in more lagging, another correction, ad infinitum. It was a classic example of canine learned helplessness, whereby a dog learns to accept abuse as a natural, inevitable consequence of living with humans. Repeated corrections had only frightened and confused the animal, and she was trying to protect herself in the only way she knew how.”

“I picked one of the black dirt-encrusted beauties up and breathed in its earthy, sensual scent. This gift of gourmet delights, worth its weight in gold, was clearly delivered by the cooking gods. "D'Artagnan and Aramis are not only hunting dogs, they're wildly talented truffle trackers,"said Phillipa. Thanks to the Times, I knew dogs had mostly replaced pigs years ago on the quest for truffles because they were easier to train and didn't chow down on the fungus after they found it.”

“Oh. My. God. Are the two of you wearing matching cardigans?" I had gotten so used to Longganisa dressing in cutesy outfits and doing multiple costume changes in a day that I had to glance down at her to remind myself of what she was wearing. "Yeah, Adeena has been obsessed with crochet lately and made these for us. It was Longganisa's birthday last month and this was her present. Well, one of them." Adeena, who loved colors and patterns as much as Ninang Mae did, had also been trying to get me to incorporate more color into my wardrobe. The chunky burnt orange cardigan with oversize buttons was a nice compromise for us, and looked absolutely adorable on Longganisa as well. She knew I couldn't turn down a cute matching outfit. Longganisa cautiously approached Cleo, who hadn't moved from her position at Quinn's feet. There was something regal about the older dog, as if she were waiting for Longganisa to present herself and curtsy. The two sniffed each other for a moment and, after a quick glance at me, Longganisa kneaded the blanket that Cleo was lying on into a little nest before curling up next to her. Cleo must've accepted her because she just laid her head on Longganisa and the two of them promptly fell asleep. Cue me and Quinn whipping out our phones to take pictures and trying not to sob from the cuteness.”

“Another of the great civilizations, the Aztecs, raised a breed of hairless chihuahuas especially for eating. When the Conquistadors arrived and found dog on the menu, they were of the same opinion as Mademoiselle, that this was evidence of the worst form of barbarism. They, the Spaniards, used dogs as befits civilized and Christian men - to hunt down fugitive Indians and tear them to pieces.”

“They’re service dogs,” Norah said, without missing a beat. “So they have to stay with us.” Patel looked at the mutts dubiously. “These are service dogs?” “Yes,” Norah said serenely. One of the things that Alicia had always admired about Norah was the fact that she was a committed liar. Not to be confused with a good liar; Norah’s gift was the ability to come up with a lie on the spur of the moment and remain committed to it against all logic and reason. “For…?” The pause was negligible. “Irritable bowel syndrome.” The detectives exchanged a look. Hando, still stroking the dog’s chin, snorted. “You have service dogs for IBS?” “Of course.”

“Woody's life was leaking away but I was the one who stepped forward and pulled the plug. Was my timing right? Could he have had another day at home, another week? Could he have gone for one more turn around the park, had one last supper? We'll never know and to handle the reality of euthanasia I learned to be comfortable with the ambiguity and magnitude of when to take a life. All I know for sure is at that irredeemable moment when I drive the plunger home, I will be there for the person trading the overpowering presence of love and companionship with their pet for the cold, empty ache of loss.”

“Having come this far, exposed and candid, perhaps I can find sanctuary behind one incontestable truth pervading operating rooms across the country – the reality of everyday miracles. From time to time the inexplicable and the impossible happen. Behind a paper mask and under artificial lights I get to perform surgery on an unconscious body, the physical part of what we think of as a pet. Essentially I’m working construction. I’m the guy splicing wires, welding pipes, shoring up support beams, and generally renovating the house. All the other stuff, the important stuff, I cannot influence. These are the intangibles, the memories, the history, the bonds, the things that make a difference between a house and a home, the things that make the difference between a body covered in scales or feathers or fur and our pet. It is this everything else that eludes me. This everything else is the spirit of the animal. Under anesthesia, it might move out for a while, but when the surgery is done and the gas turned off, it comes back. In our worst-case scenario, regardless of whether it returns or not, it doesn’t cease to exist. Anesthesia is just a training run for the soul.”

“I got me a special Chris’mas gift during the worst uv it. On Chris’mas Eve the bastids shot my heel off. I wuz already sufferin’ from the distenturry so I shit myself, an’ jist laid there in the mud an’ my own mess waiting fer Santy Claus ta come, er Jesus, but neither one uv ‘em showed up. A dog’s gratty-tude is a sacred thang, it’s allas free in the givin’, an’ they allas gives more’n they git. Dylan wuz grateful with all his big ol’ heart an’ soul, without ever askin’ nuthin’ in return. It shamed me ta be the receiver uv such pure gratty-tude. Some folks like ta say dog is God spelt back’ards an’ I figger they’s somethin’ in that—I ain’t a deep-thinkin’ man but I take it as a message.”