As promised yesterday, I will now tell the true story of how our dog, Lulu, the St. Bernard/Airdale mix almost died after eating a portion of our driveway this summer. But first, a few words about Lulu.
I have blogged about Lulu before, more than once. Oh and here’s a good one. But I have purposely not told you the whole truth about her. The reason I haven’t shared this is because there’s really no nice way of saying it and I don’t want all the dog lovers here to get all upset and call me mean and cruel.
The fact is that Lulu is as dumb as a board. The dog is just plain stupid. She has proven this to us on many occasions and we have often wondered whether she suffered some sort of brain damage as a puppy or was just born with a staggeringly low IQ.
She has absolutely no problem-solving skills. None. Most carnivorous animals have excellent problem-solving skills because hunting for food that runs away requires some strategizing. Wild dogs must communicate with each other in order to hunt in packs and that is why dogs make such great human companions. They’ve learned to understand our movements and much of our language, and through repetition, can be taught to do many useful things, such as coming when they’re called, or getting off the bed when told. This is the ordinary dog I’m talking about. Lulu is no ordinary dog.
Lulu came to us from a rescue organization in Louisiana at nine months of age and, at first, we mistook her boundless enthusiasm and general doofiness as a stage she was going through. We thought she was all excited to find herself on a farm instead of on death row (she had been in a kill shelter with bad hip dysplasia). We just assumed she was adjusting.
The time she dove into the dishwasher to lick a plate and backed up with the bottom rack of dishes attached to her collar, we laughed until we wept. She was still madly licking the dishes as she dragged the rack around the house smashing dishes left and right. When she got her jaw trapped in Daphne’s collar and almost strangled my dear Daphne to death, nobody was laughing. (In fact, be careful leaving young, playful dogs at home with collars on. Dogs have died from this.) When she wore a chair as a necklace, in another act of outrageous greed, we were, again, howling with laughter.
But here’s something that’s not so funny: She doesn’t understand the “come” command. She is not being stubborn when she doesn’t come. It’s just something she hasn’t been able to figure out. On a cold, snowy night, she will be sitting up on our hill staring dolefully down at the house.
I will open the door and call her. She whines and squirms and does all sorts of theatrics but the dog WILL NOT COME. Then I will shake a box of treats and this sends her almost out of her mind with desire. She yelps and cries. If only I could be there with the people! In the warm house. With the food! This is what she is thinking, but she is on the hill, and we are in the house and she can’t, for the life of her, figure out how to change that! I swear, each and every time, I must don a coat and boots and walk up to her and when I reach her side, she does this joyous leaping and bounding and then we run down to the house together. She has been saved again! But the next night, when I call her, she is stumped all over again. If only I could be with them…they’re so close … but yet … so far!
I must say her instincts for protection are very much intact, as one day, at the gas station, she didn’t like the way a man came running up to me (he was looking for directions) and she turned into a snarling, teeth-gnashing she-wolf and almost made it through the window in her attempt to annihilate the guy. I gave her many kisses for her heroics, that day, in truth, the guy was a little odd. You really shouldn’t run at ladies with oversized, mentally challenged dogs in the car.
Anyway, last month, Denis had a bunch of guys over playing street hockey. There are often snacks and coffee at these street hockey games but all the guys know to keep everything away from Lulu. After one game, last year, she devoured a bunch of those little metal creamer containers and we were picking them up with the pooper scooper, all over the yard, for weeks. Anyway, the night after the hockey game, last month, Lulu refused her supper. We were away, but our caretaker alerted us because Lulu treats each and every kibble that is ever served her as if it’s the first morsel she’s had in months and for her to refuse food is not a good sign. Plus she was moaning. Fortunately, Steve rushed her to the animal hospital where they x-rayed her and saw that her stomach was filled with round sharp-looking foreign objects. Bone? They wondered. Bits of stick? No. It was gravel. Lots of it. What we were able to surmise was that one of the guys must have let a little bit of grease from a sandwich, or perhaps a drop of cream from his coffee dribble onto the driveway and Lulu greedily gobbled up whatever it was, with a huge side order of driveway.
This dog was a rescue mutt, but we have spent more on vet bills for this one dog than for any horse I’ve ever owned (Lulu’s the one with the double hip surgery). But she’s fine now. And the good thing about being so simple, is she’s like that guy in Flowers for Algernon. She’s like Charly. I really wouldn’t want her to receive any type of treatment that would improve her intelligence, as then she might end up like our old dog Rocky, who was super smart (really, smarter than me) and as a result, he worried, fretted and second-guessed us all the time.
Lulu has no idea that she’s “different” and so she is the happiest dog I have ever known.
I’m just not expecting her to pull me out of any burning buildings.
Priceless!!
As long as she makes you happy she has accomplished her job in life!
Ann,
Just a thought, but maybe Lulu had been beaten or something else horrible…”Come Here”, may have traumatized her or some command with the word “Come” and that’s why she doesn’t respond. Believe me I understand the “stupid” gene. I had a Red Dobie that was a “Pound Puppy”. She ate socks…Remember multi-colored Toe Socks? My Funniest memory of that silly dog was my Mom calling me at college to tell me she found the sock I was missing from the weekend laundry trip home. . LOL. Anyway that’s my thought. BTW the hospital is releasing my friend’s husband TOMORROW..NEPHRECTOMY AND LEAVING IN 5 DAYS.!!!???. I don’t understand. Hell I stayed 5days with my 1st childbirth which was normal(1982), and 2 days with the 2nd child(1996) No it was not an ooops, it was a pleasant surprise. I guess they (hospitals) do throw you out quick. Well, have to work the overnight again (sucks) Thanks to all of you for your thoughts and prayers… talk to you in a few.
Ann, this story is too freakin’ funny for words! Reading about Lulu’s not-too-bright adventures reminded me immediately of Doug the Dog from this summer’s Pixar movie Up (which I highly recommend for those of you who haven’t seen it yet).
For a glimpse of Doug, go to:
http://www.collider.com/entertainment/news/article.asp/aid/11793/tcid/1
Now if only Lulu were equipped with one of those collars….
we had a dumb as sticks dog when i was a teenager. he was called Benji and had been mistreated as a fresh pup. his mother’s owners thought it was so funny to feed the puppies beer, among other similar offenses. Not cool.
Rose, I do think there’s something to your theory. Somebody messed up her training when she was a pup, poor thing, there’s no doubt in my mind. I don’t believe she was abused, as she’s not in the least bit timid, but I think she might have been in the hands of some inexperienced dog owners who called her over to scold her for making a mess in the house or something. Anyway, I think when her previous owners learned of her medical issues they surrendered her to pound. We feel so lucky we found her, she’s really special in many ways.
AWFUL that your friend was released after such a short stay with such a serious condition. But, truthfully, he’s better off at home where he can’t catch anything else.
Alan, thanks for the clip.
Really not cool. Poor Benji.
aww bless
we had a dalmatian like that
he ate a rope
gravel
christmas bulbs
paper towels(hey they come out whole, hows that for an advert on strength?)
tampons were a treat and once he had the string hanging out of his bum waiting for me to erm remove it
he never did learn but he did live a long 15 years
I’m so glad that Lulu is okay. I was reading this entry out loud to my sister and we both started laughing so hard at the image of her walking around the house with the dishwasher rack attached to her neck. I’m still wiping away the tears. I currently live with one of those “smart” dogs and it can be a challenge. She thinks she knows better than me all the time (in reality it’s just some of the time). Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for one of the funniest things I’ve ever read in my life. I was howling (no pun intended) with laughter at the dishwasher rack story. lolol I remember the chair story. Your description of how she can’t find her way to the the house had me howling too. Between the two stories, I almost peed myself. Poor dumb Lulu. But she’s so gorgeous, you can’t not love her.
I’ve heard of dogs eating a rock, but not a bunch of rocks. Leave it to Lulu. The pics are beautiful by the way.
Catherine, you are MY new best friend! I loved your post on A Relentless Heart. ‘Yay! A cat post’, and that all your cats have been and are rescues. Mine too. And I also said I love to watch my cats sleep, to see them twitch, etc. You had me laughing again w/ the comment about the On Star system in the Bentley your vet drives. lolol
The pic of Riley and Ziva is beautiful. Isn’t it amazing that cats who will go at it will sometimes sleep together?
I tried to friend you, but can’t do it from your photo page. There are a ton of Catherine Evans! Click on my name on this post, it’s to my facebook page. Send me a friend request!
Oh Ann: this one was wonderful. I can just see all of the events playing out!.
Loved it. Laughed loudly.
She is one lucky dog, though!.
Aww, bless her heart. Everyone has their own gifts to offer, so instead of intelligence, Lulu offers oodles of love & loyalty to you.
(Sorry, dogs bring out the cheeseball in me.)
I love the name, by the way. Can you tell us how Lulu became “Lulu”?
Is it weird to be jealous of a dog? Because I’m jealous of yours.
Think about it.
She *gets* to be blissfully unaware. I have to think. I have to appear to be smart. I have to string together coherent prose so that people who read your blog won’t be ashamed that I, like them, read you.
And you know I’m failing.
Lulu gets to just be.
Just be.
And in an amazing way, that’s really what life is about.
Being.
This was a great blog post. If my parents let me had a dog, I’d get one.
And I’m 29.
(See how I blew the part where I was supposed to make you not feel ashamed that I post here?)
Ann we have a 2 year old pit bull that thinks used dryer sheets are a delicacy. If he gets in the laundryroom he always goes for the trash can, faster than lightning, grabs one and runs off to devour it. He’s eaten so many things in our home it’s mind boggling. If you give him a treat outside he won’t touch it–inside it’s a different story. Lulu is lucky to have such caring owners.
What wonderful stories !! Those are the kind of dogs I love–they love you so unconditionally and are so happy with everything you do for them. We have a puggle like that —not all that bright, but social, happy, friendly. After seeing the movie, my husband’s new name for her is “Dug”….she just met you, but loves you, etc….Apple (her real name) has become my best buddy in the house. When school starts and I go back to work in 2 weeks, we’ll really miss each other.
Rose–I am not one bit surprised at your story. In January, my brother lost a portion of a kidney due to a malignant tumor and he only stayed 4 days (in a Vegas hospital), and 18 months ago, I had a double mastectomy and they kept me 2 days!! I left with bandages and 5 drainage tubes dangling from me like udders… and some women went home the next day–my surgeon was more compassionate. There is a law before Congress to abolish the “drive-through mastectomies”, but they aren’t the only surgeries that are like that. But Ann is right; at home he can really rest and be around family and friends and get well at his own pace. Keeping good thoughts, Barbara
Ann, this post was hilarious…
Lulu knows she’s loved and brings her own branch of humor to her family!!!!
What a sweet, innocent little sweetie
Greetings from the Pacific Northwest Ann, and Ann Fans. I found this website after DL was on with Craig Ferguson. (May, June?) Immediatly ran out (to my nearest independent bookseller) and bought every volumn written by this branch of the Leary tree. (I’m a big reader.) I enjoyed them all immensely. At that same time I started (from the beginnning, and in order, and with all comments) consuming this blog (I should maybe mention here I have kind of an OCD issue); following along from empty Oreo shells left in the package through all manner of vermin adventures, from dress decisions to passport snafus, gazing from afar into Blogapoolza and keeping up with The Men of The Blog, crying and laughing, gasping and giggling, jotting down notes on the backs of old envelopes and clicking on links.
I have become one of those fanatics that remarks to family and friends, “oh there’s Denis” and “you know, Ann says…” On the day of ‘And now for something completely different’ I became all caught up and current. There were so very many times I wanted to add my 2 cents. Now, having gottne to “know” everyone, I finally feel qualified to join in. Like so many of your followers Ann, I have found your honesty, beauty (inside and out), humour, brilliance, and humanity to be heartwarming. It seems that you touch all of us. We have everything in common and yet our lives are nothing like yours- all at the same time.
I don’t twitter or facebook, but I do have a blog of my own. I invite everyone to read it (and no, I do not require you to do it from the beginning and in order). Watch for me now, I’ll be jumping in with both feet. (Although my posts will always be late, my husband works nights and I am pretty much nocturnal. Also, consider west coast time.)
Oh, and one of our dogs is also a “special” resuce guy. His name is Scooter, he could, no doubt, match wits (SO not the right word here) with Lulu any day, and come in dead last.
Julie in Eugene
lunarmom.wordpress.com
Thanks Julie and welcome!
welcome julie
I guess the name LULU says it all.
For those who were wondering, Lulu is short for Louisiana.
Fantastic blog, love the humor and the compassion!
My dear Hayley will eat a stone now and then, especially when I am weeding and throw them out of the gardens. She chases them and brings them back (which she doesn’t often do with balls, retrieve that is, she’ll chase anything that moves!). Usually she barfs them up with a fair amount of grass, sort of a doggy bulimia I guess!
“Come” doesn’t work here either, but “inside” does. For the house, the car, the barn, and now, even with the chicken coop. My smart little cairn has learned to help daddy heard the chickens back into their run when we need them to. It is too funny, she gets on one side and I the other, and I command the chickens inside while we both heard them in. Ah, the wonders of animals, and the joy they bring.
On another note, I have recently adopted two barn cats from a local feral cat rescue and they have recommended acclimating them to the barn for 30 days inside a cage. They are comfy enough with food, water and litter, but I feel bad that they can’t come out and roam and chase mice (the reason behind their new home). Have you heard of this and do I really have to keep them caged for 30 days so they know this is home? Thought you or your readers might know from past experiences?
Thanks for a wonderful morning smile!
OK Ann, I was just thinking, she has YOU coming to HER out on the snowy hill, maybe shes’ not so dumb? Sounds to me like she knows exactly waht she is doing there. Kittens?
Welcome to our wonderful family Julie! I loved your post. I am so impressed that you went back and read all the entries. Envious actually. I came onto the blog at the end of March, and have never had the chance to go back and see all that I missed. Don’t worry, you are definitely ‘qualified’ to join in, I look forward to hearing from you. You sound just like ‘one of us’.
I’ll check out your blog. A suggestion, Put the url in the ‘url’ box when you post, and click the remember personal info. That way your name will be underlined, which tells people they can click on it to go to people’s blogs or web sites.
Judith, dryer sheets as a delicacy! lololol
John, love that Hayley helps you chicken herd. That’s too cute. And you’re right, barn cats should be caged for 30 days when they’re first brought to a new barn home. Otherwise they’re very likely to take off. When they arrive they’re totally freaked out and disoriented, and may try to get back to wherever they came from, even though it’s miles away. If they’re caged, they get used to the smells and sounds of the place, and are less likely to feel they need to escape. I’ll have to see if I can find anything online about it, I don’t have any of the materials about it anymore from when I was with the cat rescue group. I know you feel bad for them, but it really is the best thing. You don’t want them taking off, never to be seen again. Plus, if you’re able to spend time with them near the cage, talking to them, maybe poking a feather toy (one that’s on a pole w/ a string) through the cage to play with them, you have a better chance that they’ll be more socialized with you when they are set free.
Morning Ann,
Lulu’s story takes me back to our mentally challenged dog.
We had Wheaten Terriers for years and the breed was experiencing major problems with renal failure, so we decided to try another breed because I decided that putting dogs down at 3 and 4 years of age was too much for me.
So, as I can never be dog-less, we got an English Springer Spaniel puppy, the most beautifully marked dog I had ever seen – liver and white – he was stunning! People stopped me in the street constantly to ask about him. However, what he possessed in good looks, he was sorely lacking in brain matter. He always had that “hit in the head with a frying pan” look on his face.
On top of that, he was anxiety ridden. I would take him for long walks in the park, and to get to the park, it was a car ride. He would pace back and forth and pant excessively. I thought that he was excited to go with me, but soon discovered that he would do the same thing on the way home even thought he was exhausted! He also would do the same thing when he was crated, although after about an hour, soaking wet with saliva, he would finally calm down. It took me a couple of months to figure all of this out, but the bottom line was that this dog was claustrophobic!!! And when I finally figured this out, it was as if his body sagged in relief that I finally “got him”.
He was also the type of dog who AWAYS had something the matter with him – ear infections, paw infections – he too, would eat anything and we had many small surgeries to remove all of the delicacies he felt were interesting enough to eat.
Additionally, it turned out that I was the only member of the family who he was madly in love with. He had nothing to do with anyone else. The kids were annoyances in his mind. To say that this dog was exhausting is an understatement. He was SO needy. But I knew that if I took him back to the breeder that she would just send him to another home and eventually it would be a sad ending because no one else would put up with all of his maladies, anxieties and they would put him down. Being such a die hard animal person, (stubborn too) I decided that I could do something with this dog. I worked and worked with him and as my husband always said, he turned out to be the best dog he was able to be. We had him for fifteen years – and then I went out and found another Wheaten Terrier!!
Ann, at the beginning I thought that she was dead! But she is not fortunately!
I’m so sorry and I understand these happenings. One of the puppies I gave away last year, ate something and the vet, after the x-ray, said he had never seen something like that in all his career! It was a special ball in her intestine made of rope and metallic nails. This caused hemorrhage and inner wounds. We were sure he would be die after the surgery. This puppy is not dead finally but is still sick, it was taken away a consistent piece of intestine. Now he has problems with digestion and has remained small in size! A future damaged life! You’re right, they are like small kids, you have to look after them because they eat everything. And it’s so difficult!
Lake53:
My husband and I have dozens of barn cats, and we have never put any of them in a cage. At the end of the 14-month marathon when we were building our new house ourselves, I began moving the 16 (or so) stray cats we were taking care of where we were living at that time in town to the barn on our new property to join the current feline residents of our barn. Because we had 3 house cats, we owned 3 cat carriers. Therefore, I was able to move 3 cats at a time. Still, it was a time-consuming chore. Tricking the cats into the carriers with massive amounts of canned cat food, staying out of sight until the cats were engrossed in their eating so that I could dash to the carrier and slam the door shut, blah, blah, blah. But, though I may be a bit irresponsible for not managing to spay and neuter all of these cats, I was not willing to move to the new house and leave all of these cats to fend for themselves after they had depended upon us for over a decade.
Anyway, the point here is that we merely let the town cats out of the carriers immediately upon arriving at the barn. To the best of our recollection, none of them wandered off the property or tried to get back to our house in town. I’m certainly not advising you to ignore the advice from the people at the rescue location if you are not comfortable doing so, but we had no problems keeping our cats on our property. I believe that as long as a cat knows it has a steady supply of food, water, and shelter, he/she is smart enough to remain in that location.
And you’re right about the mouse-catching. Until Ann’s post last year about all of the mice she found inside her beautiful country home, I hadn’t even considered such a problem. So, obviously, our barn cats are earning their keep. We have never seen a mouse in our house (…..is this the beginning of a poem, she asks, even though she knows she can go no further????….) or even outside.
Your barn must be a much more modern one than ours if you have litter boxes. Our barn is sturdy, but has a dirt floor, so we don’t provide litter boxes for the cats. Then again, you have only two–we have at least two dozen. Besides, these cats love to poop in our landscaping mulch. Best of luck with your new barn cats. Keep us informed as to how they acclimate to their new home, please.
Ann:
Hysterically funny post about Lulu!! I love Lulu. While I’m sure she can be mighty frustrating, she must also be hugely entertaining.
Knowing that Denis is from the Boston area and you have lived in and around New England, I came to the conclusion that you have the Peter Griffin of dogs! Sweet, lovable, funny, faithful, but slightly mentally challenged!
John, here are a couple links for you. Some say 2-4 weeks, but I really think you’re taking a chance if you let them out after 2 weeks. It just raises the risk of them taking them off. I know it seems cruel for them being stuck in a cage, but they’ve most likely been in cages where they came from, and they’re going to have a life of freedom in a short time.
Here’s a couple links on the hows and whys:
http://www.barncatbuddies.org/protocols.htm
http://www.barncats.org/program_how.php
The following is a wonderful, heartwarming video about a barn cat organizations process for homing barn cats. It features a cast of cats, dogs, horses, goats, and even llamas! Everyone should watch it!
http://www.examiner.com/x-12636-Boston-Animal-Rescue-Examiner~y2009m8d10-How-to-acclimate-a-barn-cat
Sorry, chatty me again. I keep forgetting. For anyone in the NYC area, Barbara & I are meeting in the city on Thurs or Fri for a romp in the city! Yeah, a day in my favorite place!!!! Anyone want to join us? Ann, this includes you of course.
We’re going to do an audio walking tour of Central park with our ipods/mp3 players. I’m really looking forward to it because I haven’t been to Central Park in probably 20 years. Both days look gorgeous – highs in the upper 70′s. My kind of weather.
If anyone wants to join us for a day of beautiful weather, a fascinating tour of Central Park, and lots of laughter, please post on the blog. We would love to have you join us, and you’re guaranteed to have a good time.
What a great story about Lulu! I’ve never had a dog, but I have one cat, Yaz, who is a total dope and eats paper and plastic like crazy. Everyday I come home and the toilet paper is dragged out and half eaten, even when I hide it. He will open my vanity door, even though I have a thick rubber band on it to keep it closed, to get at the toilet paper. One day I was cleaning the litter box and saw something blue-here in the stool was the blue plastic wrapper from a panty-liner-he had climbed in the garbage, pulled it out and ate it! I have caught him chewing the dry cleaner bags on clothes, papers on my desk, and any number of things he seems to think are edible-my cat has pica!!
Poor Lulu! I’m glad she is better, but I can’t help wondering what her poor stomach is like now after nibbling on the driveway. I get nervous when I take ibuprofen for headaches because my best friend keeps telling me that I will eventually put a hole in my stomach!!! She’s into herbs, meditation and surrounding one’s self with white light. I’m into instant relief.
I love the way Lulu got her name! She seems like a real sweet dog and is lucky to have such a caring family.
I’m convinced that people who mistreat animals mistreat everyone including humans. Angry people are mean to everyone. Anyone who gives beer to a puppy clearly has issues that spill into other areas of their life. Poor Benji.
Christine
Ann – kudos to you for saving Lulu’s life by adopting her from the rescue that saved her from a kill shelter. When I adopted my cat, Ziva, she was literally on a shuttle to a kill shelter. They had to stop the bus and retrieve her for me. She pays me back daily, of course, by hiding things (pony tail makers, earrings, matchbooks, keys, my running shoes.) Trust me, having a “slow” dog is better than having a smart(a@@) cat. Especially when you realize in the grocery store check out line that your checkbook isn’t in your purse. (I found that later…under my couch.)
I’ll send you a Facebook invite right now. (Please don’t judge me by my friends…they are an eclectic mix – ha.)
Julie – welcome! I’m sort of a newbie myself. Although after reading your blog, I realize I’m a little slow on the uptake. Why didn’t I think to go back and read the archives before jumping in feet first? I’ll be starting that this weekend! (BTW, I’m west coast too. California.)
Tracy – you’re so good for my self esteem
Rose – I’m glad your husband’s friend is doing well. Home is probably the best place for him to be (germ-wise), but it sure gets me fired up again on the whole health care debate.
Catherine
Ann:
I found this
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/nov05election/detail?entry_id=46106
It talks about health care reform, Palin, Facebook….
There.
Ann- didn’t mean to insult your dog’s name,, there used to be a cartoon called Little Lulu and she was just like your Lulu. sorry that is what I meant.
Ann:
Maybe acting out just like dear Lulu, I found this page.
http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/08/25/harris.primary.care.doctor/index.html
I still do not get the alerts when you post at the newspaper (online), and so I thought this article was worthy.
Candy, my thoughts EXACTLY, who here is in charge…Ann or Lulu? Maybe we should ask Ceasar? Personally, I think Lulu is brilliant getting you to come out in the middle of winter like that, priceless. But eating the driveway, not quite as brilliant? Yesterday while doing yard work I found a pink barbie shoe, a Polly Pocket toy and two hair ties, all in a nice neat pile in the yard…all ingested then deposited by Izzy (Giant Schnauzer) earlier this summer. But not uncommon in our house, the first time our previous Giant pooped plaid I thought, this is odd…then realized it was Barbie’s shorts. Now I’m just use to it
! Ann, our girls (8 and 10) love your blog as much as I do. You are awesome, you keep us laughing with your stories, educated with your poems and literature and grateful as you continue to share your thoughts and insights, thank you.
Oh Ann, what a wonderful blog!! I just love Lulu and the two of you for taking such good care of her. This is yet another one of your blogs which I will read again and again. Thanks for sharing.
Janet, so glad to hear that your girls enjoy the blog. I know some others have told me their kids read so that’s why I try to keep it G rated.
Love all your comments. So glad to hear that barn cats don’t need to be caged. I can’t bear to cage any animal, but especially something that was once wild. Good luck John.
Kittens hopefully by end of week,
Wendy, you reminded me that my cat Jett, the one I mentioned earlier that eats any food left out, also chews anything plastic. He even loves the plastic strips that postage stamps come on. I can’t tell you how many stamps he’s destroyed when I’ve forgotten & left them out. He too roots through the bathroom trashcan looking for pantyliner wrappers or any other kind of wrappers. Then of course he throws up whatever plastic he eats. A little gift for me.
When I’m away he opens the vanity and pulls out cotton balls and q-tips. He doesn’t do anything with them, I think he’s just bored with me away. I’ve always felt he’s too smart for his own good & gets into trouble because he’s bored. Shithead.
You’re all killing me with the stories of what you’re animals eat/hide. I’m honestly choking from laughing so hard. I loved Catherine’s ‘having a “slow” dog is better than having a smart(a@@) cat.’ rotflmao You kill me girl. Friended you back, but haven’t gotten back on facebook yet. Have to check out your ‘eclectic’ friends.
I think the funniest is Janet and her Barbie shoe, Polly pocket toy, hair ties, and especially Barbie’s plaid shorts! OMG! You’re making me hurt from laughing so hard. ‘This is odd, he pooped plaid.’ Now that’s a great blog line.
Ann, Everyone
Lulu’s antics are very funny. Laugh out loud funny. I’m so glad she found your family. I read an author named Caroline Knapp (RIP) who wrote of her destructive love affair with alcohol. Fortunately she broke up with it and moved on to a passionate relationship with a shepherd-mix name Lucille, somewhat similar to Lulu. She wrote an entire book on her healthy love affair with Lucille, and on the profound bond between humans and canines in general.
Indy has moved on to heaven, Savannah accepts this and will join him someday. We have very fond memories of him. It is true dogs are so sophisticated they can feel even subtle nuances in their owner’s moods.
I’m so glad you brought up the danger of allowing young, boisterous dogs to wear collars when they are playing. As puppies, Indy caught a tooth in Savannah’s collar. Both panicked, one puppy ran one way, the other ran in the opposite direction. Savannah would have been strangled to death if my father did not snip off the collar with a pair of scissors.
Gloria
Hi all!
That story is too sweet! That is a dog even I could love.
I have to ask a favor from all of you, the smartest and funniest bloggers around.
I started a blog, for my work, but I need followers none the less. Its at http://www.amazingbraces-christine.blogspot.com. I would really appreciate if you would give it a look. I just started today so there’s not much to see yet but hoping for success!
Thank you!
Christine Walker
Lulu—a kindred spirit. If I didn’t know better, Ann, I’d swear you were writing about me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve eaten something I shouldn’t have and worn furniture as an accessory, though, with me, it was usually a lamp shade on my head on New Year’s Eve. Nonetheless, I feel connected to Lulu.
She even reminds me of a dog I used to know when I lived in Montana and worked on a ranch. The other wranglers found Spuds, a St. Bernard/Collie mix, in Idaho and named him not only for his home state but for his couch potato like tendencies. The only time the dog wasn’t reposed was when we moved the herds from pasture to pasture. That’s when he became all work and action. But once we were at the main house, he’d lounge (kind of like Lulu in the last photo) for days.
In the mornings, I used to run from the main house to the road, a three mile jaunt each way. I’m not a runner. In fact, I don’t really like it all that much, but I would endure the torture for the view. There was a section along the road where the landscape opened up into a beautiful wildflower meadow and a small mountain lake that looked emerald green. Pure heaven. Then one day, without coaxing (I had stopped that useless practice a long time ago), Spuds joined me for my run. I was a little confused, but gleeful to have the company. Just as we were making our way to the wildflower meadow, he ran in front of me and stopped. I jogged around him, and he ran in front of me and stopped again. I, thinking I was outsmarting a dumb dog, zigged while he zagged and then sprinted toward the field. He barked at me, as if I were an idiot, and then jumped up, throwing his front paws on my shoulders, pushing me down. Being vertically challenged, I was instantly on the ground. Being Irish, I was pissed.
When I got to my feet and brushed off the dirt, Spuds stood in front of me but looked toward the field. And there she was—a Grizzly sow and her two cubs, drinking out of the lake. I slowly back peddled while Spuds stood guard. When he started to back peddle and walk back to the house, I knew we were safe so I turned and ran. He didn’t have the same sense of urgency. He moseyed. But when he eventually showed up, I smothered him with hugs and kisses and fed him buffalo hamburgers (his favorite) for weeks.
Followed you Christine
Now quick
Everyone
Follow me LOL
Great blog post Christine, very informative.
Colleen, is that you, shy Colleen????? Oh my goodness! You’re too funny. Yeah for Spuds!
Ann,
I couldn’t have stumbled across your blog at a more perfect time! The story of Lulu and her less-than-brilliant antics not only made me laugh until my sides hurt, it made me remember that I am not the only one who adores a big dog with the IQ of a squash! At a time when friends, family and neighbors have begun to question my grip on reality, it is such a comfort to read about your experiences with Lulu.
I grew up with an Irish wolfhound/golden retriever named Zooey, and she cemented my love for big dogs. In September 2004 my husband and I adopted Max, a St. Bernard/Pyrenees mix from a local shelter. By Christmas I was ready to re-write the 12 days of Christmas using things he devoured, “5 window dressings, 4 pairs of shoes, 3 jugs of bubble bath, 2 goose down pillows, 1 whole couch!” Coming home to find he had escaped out our daughter’s 2nd story window and brought several of her stuffed animals out on the roof to play was a real treat, I doubt the neighbors will forget the sight of Max looking down at them any time soon. Thankfully, with time and patience Max has recovered from his separation anxiety.
And then we took on Jude…
Also a St. Bernard/Pyrenees mix, also a rescue dog with a low IQ and a big heart. Everyone thought I lost my damn mind. “You already have a huge dog, what the heck would you want another one for?!” We brought Jude home the end of January, and he has required more deep breathing than I ever imagined. My husband often looks at Jude, looks at me, and declares, “you sure can pick ‘um!” I love Jude and Max dearly, but it seems that everyone else has smart, “normal” dogs. If I had a nickle for every time someone raised their eyebrows at us, with an expression of disbelief and pity…
I can’t thank you enough for sharing Lulu’s story, she is gorgeous and so lucky to have found her forever home with a family that accepts her for the hilarious, beautiful beast she is!
Can’t wait to have my husband read Lulu’s story when he comes home on lunch – and we thought Denis was funny, ha!
-Catherine
I’m reading this and thinking, yep, that’s our Toby. Worst dog ever; could give Marley a run for his money…but I can’t imagine life without him. He’s our exercise, our entertainment, our watchdog, our garbage disposal, our vacuum. He’s a Weimaraner. His blue eyes sucked me in as a puppy but clearly I didn’t do any research on the breed. He’s gone through my husband’s computer bag to eat a $300 pair of Bose headphones, he’s climbed into the bath tub to eat a bar of soap (nothing like cleaning up soapy “Dove” smelling vomit out of new carpet). In the time it took me to go to the bathroom, he ate a brand new pair of shoes. Every day is filled with moments of frustration and laughter because of this dog. I wouldn’t change a thing. I also will not get another Weimaraner.
Oh God!… I was laughing so hard! I love this dog! What a great fury soul.
Tears streaming down my face. Coffee out of the nose. Danger of not getting enough air due to excessive laughter. Completely justifies any time I might have thought I was wasting reading old archived blog posts. Sounds like Lulu found the perfect home. Can you even imagine if this dog had been adopted by a family of animal lovers and a home and yard full of mischief to make and those people did not have the gift or forethought of recording her exploits for those not technically family or friends or neighbors to see? The stuff of nightmares. Okay not a nightmare, but a shame. Good dog Lulu!