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Dogs Quotes

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Dogs Quotes

“Pet Haunts by Stewart Stafford Ghosts pinned my cat to the wall, So I reached out to pick him up, In the strangest flip to our world, They then turned him into a pup! Spectres floated my pet downstairs, Confused as he hovered on a step, Species-fluid doppelgänger mirage, Without moans or chains to schlepp. Dare we dig into this canine tale, Let me lick myself clean and think, Corporeal companions, some not, We all link up as one past the brink. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“Man is the Reasoning Animal. Such is the claim. I think it is open to dispute. Indeed, my experiments have proven to me that he is the Unreasoning Animal... In truth, man is incurably foolish. Simple things which other animals easily learn, he is incapable of learning. Among my experiments was this. In an hour I taught a cat and a dog to be friends. I put them in a cage. In another hour I taught them to be friends with a rabbit. In the course of two days I was able to add a fox, a goose, a squirrel and some doves. Finally a monkey. They lived together in peace; even affectionately. Next, in another cage I confined an Irish Catholic from Tipperary, and as soon as he seemed tame I added a Scotch Presbyterian from Aberdeen. Next a Turk from Constantinople; a Greek Christian from Crete; an Armenian; a Methodist from the wilds of Arkansas; a Buddhist from China; a Brahman from Benares. Finally, a Salvation Army Colonel from Wapping. Then I stayed away for two whole days. When I came back to note results, the cage of Higher Animals was all right, but in the other there was but a chaos of gory odds and ends of turbans and fezzes and plaids and bones and flesh--not a specimen left alive. These Reasoning Animals had disagreed on a theological detail and carried the matter to a Higher Court.”

“He jumps off the bed, scampers to a corner where he herds his dog toys, and grabs a floppy giraffe. He vivisected the giraffe a week ago. Now it’s a damaged stuffy with a neck and one leg. But he loves it, and holy shit, he loves it a lot. So much that he’s jammed it between his legs and he’s humping it. Yup, that’s my boy. He’s screwing a mutilated giraffe stuffy. “Get a room,” I shout. But he keeps going, thrusting and pumping.”

“Almost everyone will proclaim they are against bullying. No one likes a bully, right? At the same time, most of those same people will state the slogan of the day, "I respect the police.", or, "I respect the police, but...". To that I ask, "What is it you respect about them?" Do you respect that they'd shoot your dog or child in a heartbeat? Do you respect them leaving thousands of dogs in hot cars to die? Do you respect them shooting hundreds of thousands of dogs? (10,000 a year for 20 years would be hundreds of thousands!). Do you respect that there are cops in prison for murder, rape, and child molestation who are still collecting their pensions? I could probably make this list 100 pages long if I wanted to, but I hope you get the point. The point is that when we say we respect bullies and bullying, we are part of the problem, not the solution.”

“The truth is, it is the younger inexperience gangsters who often cut down the older original gangsters. The best way for this young thug to prove himself to others, is to simply cut down an established gangster. Thus, this cruel cycle of senseless violence repeats itself, with the younger being more vicious and rootless than his predecessor. It’s the dog, who kills the lion, and once he has killed the lion, he’s no longer a dog; he’s now a lion himself.”

“Far, far away, in a place known as Alaska, darkness was beginning to fall. A man was walking across the vast wilderness. He made slow progress. His dog pulled on the leash as if she knew they were almost there. They were headed for Anchorage. The dog, a fur ball of energy, kept her nose to the ground. She moved fast as if something was driving her forward, some kind of reward or prize.”

“Men looove pussy. They can never get enough of it. If you send a guy a pussy pic, he's gonna think you're awesome. And he assumes you feel the same way if he sends you an unsolicited dick pic. He loves jerking off while looking at pussy, and in his mind he's certain that you must love dick pics as much as he loves pussy pics. It is such a given to him, it never even occurred to him that it might not be true. If you have a dog, you know what I'm talking about. Sometimes a dog brings you his favorite toy in the whole world. And he puts it in your lap. Not because he wants you to throw it. This is not for him. This is for you. He wants you to have it. When you look at his toy, all you see is a dirty old sock, covered in crusty dried dog spit. But that's not what he sees. To him that sock is the most awesome thing in the whole world. And he is putting The Most Awesome Thing In The Whole World in your lap. Then he sits down in front of you and stares into your eyes as if to say: "This is my gift to you. May it give you the same endless hours of joy and happiness that it has given me." And that's exactly what men think when they send you a dick pic.”

“She sighed and looked at Snowball. "Pretty doggy," she said, giving him a pet. "When they gave you to me they were only trying to make me happy. They really do think this nannying abroad, this... gothic situation, would be good for me. But I don't like gothic novels, Snowball. They're dreary. "I suppose it could have been worse, like an arranged marriage. All right, perhaps that's going a bit far. It's really a bit more Charlotte than Emily. 'A serious introduction to a proper boy,' then." She carefully moved Snowball so she could give Nana a good petting too. "I thought Peter Pan was the proper boy for me. But all I have is a shadow of him.”

“When Mrs. Darling came into the kitchen it was with a tentative step and furtive looks. "How is your little pet?" she eventually asked. "What? Oh, he's absolutely adorable," Wendy said, remembering to toss Snowball a tidbit of mutton. For Nana she reserved the bone. "You can... take him with you, you know. To Ireland. He would be a delightful little travel companion." For a moment, just a moment, Wendy looked at her mother- really looked at her, steadily and clearly. "You would never send the boys away." The statement fell hard and final and full of more meaning than anything that had ever been said in the kitchen before. "But they didn't write the... fantasies...." her mother said quietly. Then Mr. Darling came in, loud and blustery, talking up Irish butter and clean country air. Mother and daughter both ignored him.”

“I am thinking of getting a conceal carry permit for my ‘Risky’ neighborhood walks. I was attacked by an aggressive dog in the street that bit my ankle. I was getting ready to give it a big kick to its head when it ran off. If I had a gun, I would have shot it. Now that dogs are killing people, it has elevated the need for self-protection.”

“I saw one funny thing happen here. Of course it took a good many relays to get our outfits down to the lakes. On one of these trips I saw a team of black Newfoundland dogs coming down loaded. Our friend the one-horned bull was going up with two empty sleds hitched to him. They happened to meet in one of the narrowest places on the trail, where the mountain rose sheer on the dogs’ side, and dropped down almost perpendicularly on the bull’s side. As luck would have it, the only horn the bull had was on the dogs’ side. When about midway of the team, the bull made a lunge at the dogs, caught the traces under his horn, and lurched back, stubbing his toe. Both outfits rolled down the hillside together. The drivers, of course, were walking behind their animals, and, having everything suddenly cleared between them, jumped together and struck a few blows. They then sad down and slid after their teams. Of course the line couldn’t stop for a little thing like this and went on, but afterwards I saw both teams on the trail again.”

“For many people, the love or the loss of an animal often becomes a gateway into a deeper spiritual journey. The most pragmatic of men will begin to question the fundamental nature of being when he is visited by an apparition of his deceased cat or dog companion.”

“The combination of qualities required in a police dog – the nose, the biddability, the controllable aggression, the bravery, the talent for distinguishing the toe-rag from the good citizen, the fear-inspiring bark and looking the part – these do not necessarily come with any pedigree, nor do the genes predictably pass on.”

“He is tough as galvanized nails, this dog. I suddenly realize that’s the problem: he’s tougher than I am. All those years on patrol, on SWAT, sweating in that tactical gear, all of it nowhere near the level of discomfort this animal can and will endure to do what he wants to do. Brag isn’t the one who needs to toughen up, it’s me.”

“Once you’re on the Dog Unit, you’ll never want to give it up.’ He was right: it’s the best job in the world. If you think about the most exciting thing you’ve ever done and times it by ten, then think about doing it every day with your best friend and getting paid for it, that’s what being a police dog handler is like. It’s the best game of hide and seek ever. Every dog owner knows how much fun it is to play with your dog. I knew if I worked hard and passed out with flying colours, I’d be able to play with my dog every single day and get paid for it. Yes, there’s a cost and a risk to chasing baddies but, ultimately, to your dog it’s a game.”

“I hid behind a wall and looked inside: there were three adult men getting changed and throwing money around like they were in some Hollywood movie. Shocked and delighted, I couldn’t contain my excitement: ‘Bloody hell, Theo, you’ve found them, you’ve bloody found them!’ I whispered and gave him a stroke, my heart pounding. Theo had found the team of armed robbers. What I was feeling inevitably went down the lead. Theo was whimpering, he was expecting the challenges to be issued, but I couldn’t with so many of them. There was a chance he’d fare okay against three but it was unlikely even with the element of surprise on our side.”

“For me it was a huge deal to get that care from so far up the chain and it dawned on me that I couldn’t ever thank Theo enough. Yes, I could treat him and give him lots of love, but he’d never understand the gravitas of what he’d done. He didn’t know the cause and effect. He didn’t know there were kids safe in their beds thanks to him, that kids had their Christmas presents back because of him, that bad people were off the streets and in prison. All because of him”

“Jeff’s first lesson for me was in how to select a good police dog. He had myriad tests he would put dogs through to determine whether they had the right focus and effort to be a good police dog. He explained that the three most important characteristics were that the dog be happy, social, and confident. I found it odd that Jeff started with a happy dog.”

“Have your helper tease your dog with a toy and run away to a place the dog can’t see. Start the dog on an item the helper dropped, like a sweaty hat, then have the dog find him. As you progress, you want the dog to start using his nose, not his eyes, to identify the person who has his toy. So you remove the part where the dog sees the helper run away and just start him on the sweaty hat that was dropped. You make the tracks longer and longer with different types of ground and obstacles, and eventually you have an amazing tracking dog. The key to this one is, again, to flip out with excitement when the dog finds the helper and make it the most amazing time in the world.”

“I asked the decoy what happened. He told me he heard Mattis go down a row in the distance and then jump up onto a shelf. He said he then jumped from shelf to shelf (in the dark) straight toward him at about head level. The decoy said, “I know I was supposed to be still, but he was coming at me head level, so I threw my arm up to intercept him.” The other handlers, the decoy, and I were all astounded. This was not what I had planned. This was not the lesson | wanted to teach Mattis. I laughed because he’d solved it in a manner I hadn’t considered, and in a more efficient way. This type of Mattis solution became commonplace at every training session. Throw a complex problem at him and just watch him with wonder as he comes up with a solution. We never knew what it was going to be, but we knew it was going to be grounded in determination, athleticism, and efficiency.”

“The New York police-dogs are not as finely trained as those of Ghent and other European cities. Not as much is asked of them. But they are expected to stick to their official masters, to recognize men in uniforms as friends and all others as possible enemies, to answer at once to the police-whistle or the rap of a night-stick, to hurl themselves upon a man attacking a policeman, to lie still and watch when commanded, to pursue and throw a fleeing criminal, to search around buildings at night, and to give notice by barking of the presence of persons lurking in the shadows. Pete showed not the slightest inclination to do any of these things.”

“Operational dogs very often experienced failure. A track would lead nowhere, a search would find nothing, a quarry pursued would escape, and no matter how much the handler tried to compensate with fun exercises out of hours, any failure left a small mark and repeated failures accumulated. Success at new challenges, new games, was an unbeatable tonic for a dog and handler.”

“Days into the 18-week program, Judge was excelling. He had a strong work ethic, could perform tasks necessary for crowd control and building searches, and navigated wet floors and stairwells with ease. But when it came to apprehending people acting the parts of criminals in arrest scenarios, “He wouldn't let the person go, Franks remembers with a smile. “And when I would try to take him off the person, he would then turn and bite me.” It happened five or six times, according to Franks, who made several trips to the emergency room and even received 10 stitches across his nose. But one of the ace trainers at the school told him, “If you can stick with it, I promise you will get a great; dog.” He and Judge worked things out. And he got a great dog.”

“This book is written for our animals, who trust us with their safekeeping. To keep them healthy, we turn to modern medicine, but it is ill-equipped to address chronic disease in our animals and ourselves. We have become dependent on pharmaceuticals to address every ailment, one at a time. There is a different way. What if we as animal lovers could change our focus from individual symptoms to an awareness of the whole animal and their innate ability to heal? Then we would be well on our way to making our beloved companions' lives a lot better.”

“Harold's Bow and Food Bowl bowl bowl bowl Food food food food The miracle of the heavenly restaurant I mouth this great dark sad evening Suddenly they come for me in a limousine How could I have believed I was vanquished I never lay slain I am the victor this parade is for me Now they have led me to the doors of God Long ago and forever I was in this place on the other side of eating where I am full and the empty bowl is beautiful -- from Unleashed: Poems by Writers' Dogs”

“It's a matter of reasoning," said Poirot. "The dog, he argues from reason. He is intelligent, he makes his deductions according to his point of view. There are people who may enter a house and there people who may not - that a dog soon learns. Eh bien, who is the person who most persistently tries to gain admission, rattling on the door twice or three times a day - and who is never by any chance admitted? The postman. Clearly, then, an undesirable guest from the point of view of the master of the house. He is always sent about his business, but he persistently returns and tries again. Then the dog's duty is clear, to aid in driving this undesirable man away, and to bite him if possible. A most reasonable proceeding.”

“Several times over the years Kate would tell me how she saw Grady in her dreams. In the dream Kate would say to her, “You can't be here, Grady, you died.” Inevitably as she said that, Grady would disappear, poof, just like that. I tried to explain to her that she needed to accept Grady into her dreams. She needed to give Grady permission to stay. Until she did, Grady would have to honor what Kate believed to be true. When Kate said, “You can’t be here,” Grady could not stay. That’s the way it works. A loyal dog obeys its master, even beyond the grave.”