Posts Tagged 'boxer dogs'

A Beauty Queen In Boots

Sky's New Boots

Sky's New Boots

Even though they’re not cheap, we broke down and bought someone else’s brilliant invention, little Velcro dog boots.  Our gorgeous little girl has an uncanny talent for getting as much mud and gunk jammed between her toenails as possible.  She’s even mastered the art of finding every poo pile we haven’t picked up and stepping in it.  Obviously, it’s easier to wipe this crap off these smooth little boots than to stand out in the cold and scrub four little paws.  I just have to show off my little beauty queen in her new booties.  A mom’s gotta brag!

Sky's New Boots

Sky's New Boots

I'm One Hot Pup

I'm One Hot Pup

You Can Quit Staring Now

You Can Quit Staring Now

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I Thought I Might Get Rich

We had snow on the ground for a few days.  I’m not fond of snow.  It’s cold, makes walking and driving hazardous, and limits my shoe choices.  But the one advantage it does have is that it covers the mud in our yard that covers the paws of our dog whenever she goes out to pee.

I have spent — no lie — a good 10 minutes each time she goes out digging dirt and mud out of her little toenails.  We even got an empty coffee container, filled it with water, and dipped each paw in it before we wiped them with an old towel.  Part of the problem is she doesn’t just go out to pee.  She has to run around like a maniac, lunging at delivery trucks or people walking up the street while tied up in the front yard.  So the mud gets ground into her little paws in every crease and crevice.

Big Daddy and I brainstormed for a solution to this problem.  Who wants to stand on a cold porch several times a day digging mud from a pet’s paws?  He mentioned that she needed boots or something that we could remove.  The next day, I dug out some old socks and put them on the dog before I released her into the yard.  I thought we were pretty darn clever, maybe onto a marketable idea.

Well, the little angel had no problem with me putting the socks on.  But unfortunately, they didn’t stay on for long.  The back two came off before I even tied her up.  The front socks ended up laying in the front yard where she lost them after freaking out over the mail lady.  I was thinking about ways to improve on the idea by maybe making fasteners on the foot covers when Oldest Son’s friend, Sheri, mentioned that you could buy little booties with velcro fasteners at the pet store.  What a great idea.  Why don’t I think of these things first??

Sky in socks

Sky in socks

Who Says Dogs Aren’t Human?

I read the newspaper column “Dog Talk” every Sunday.  The guy trains and understands our canine friends very well.  However, he believes dogs behave only as dogs and that we falsely attribute human emotion to them.  Perhaps my dogs, being of the utterly superior boxer breed, are more advanced than your average canine.  They seem quite human to me.  Some examples:

The other night we were watching TV.  Sky, as usual, had staked out the best spot on the carpet to sprawl out.  All of a sudden, a doorbell rang–on the TV show.  Sky jumped up ready to run to the door–then suddenly stopped, realizing the doorbell sound did not actually come from our doorbell.  I’m not kidding–she looked thoroughly embarrassed.  She tried saving face by cooly walking over to Big Daddy, like that was her real intention all along, and laid her little boxer head on his lap to be petted.  I laughed ’til I cried.

Some days, Sky follows me around like a two-year-old.  I’ve read that dogs have an intelligence level equivalent to a toddler.  Like toddlers, I’ve found my dogs to be dumb enough to be cute and smart enough to be interesting.  But dogs stay this way.  Especially when we’ve been gone a lot, Sky won’t let me out of her sight until it becomes annoying.  Last week, she actually stood up on her hind legs and wrapped her front paws around my waist.  She was hugging me!  She’s sooo my baby.

Our first dear departed boxer, Prudence, had a lot more rules to follow than Sky.  We didn’t allow her into the formal areas of the house (dining and living rooms) or upstairs into the bedrooms.  She was well aware of this and never disobeyed–while we were home.  However, more than once, we almost caught her lounging on the living room couch.  She would jump off and pretend she’d never been on it when she heard the car pull up.  Unfortunately, she was not quite bright enough to brush off the telltale dog hair on the couch cushions or to pick up the pillows she had knocked to the floor in her haste to escape.  Sometimes when I came home from work at lunchtime, I would see an old chewed up tissue that she dug out of one of the upstairs wastebaskets.  Of course, she’d be sitting in the family room like a saintly pup by the time I got in the door.

Sky loves her toys.  She plays with every toy she has.  When I first brought home a new pair of jeweled flip-flops, she sniffed around them, not sure if they were for her.  I told her “No, those are mommy’s” and she’s never touched them since.  She never messes with anything that’s not hers, except to roll around in our dirty wet towels when I’m sorting the laundry.  She does love to mess with fluffy little animals, however.  She hasn’t physically hurt any of them so far; she’s just scared the crap out of them and their owners.  J sent some pictures of the cutest little kitten to our computer.  Sky would love this critter, too.

chew toy

chew toy

If You Need A Laugh–Get A Boxer

When the world gets a bit nasty (like politicians) or scary (predictions of alien landings), you need to take your mind to a happy place.  This is when the benefit of having a dog outweighs the cost.  I get at least one good belly-laugh a day from her antics, and she’s not even trying!  To me, there is nothing cuter or funnier than a boxer dog.  Their posture is regal.  Their facial expressions are hilarious.  They’re playful and energetic.  I’ve had two boxers, and neither one has ever tried to chew anything that didn’t belong to them even though they constantly play with their own toys.  I am now hooked on the show, Greatest American Dog, which is on TV Thursday night at 8pm EDT mainly because of the gorgeous young boxer dog Presley.

Seriously, to have a boxer is to love a boxer.  One caution though–if you plan to get one, make sure you have the time and space to exercise them and let them run.  I can’t really walk mine because she’s so strong, she’s pulled me down onto my belly and dragged me (more than once) when she’s taken off to greet another dog.  But we have a nice-sized yard and she runs until she tires herself out.

We Have a Dog—Why???

Two years ago, my husband somehow convinced me to go along with his overwhelming desire to get another boxer dog. I didn’t really want another dog. I had just started getting over the death of our beautiful sweet boxer dog Pru, and I had no desire to go through that kind of sadness again. We had fulfilled our obligation as parents of sons to get them a dog when we got our first dog; my dad had always said “Those boys need a dog.” Never mind that my siblings and I grew up just fine without one.

I had finally reached the point where I didn’t really have to be responsible for anyone’s survival anymore and it felt good! My boys were old enough that they could drive themselves to where they needed to go, get themselves food if they were hungry, and could take care of themselves if I wanted to escape for a few days. A new dog would tie me down; I had been there and done that for way too long.

Although I was firm about not wanting another dog for all the common-sense reasons, Big Daddy obviously sensed my emotional ambivalence. Every time I saw a boxer, I would ooh and ahh. When we were being assessed as suitable boxer parents, I was the one that got down on the floor to play with the big white boxer the girl brought to the house. It obviously didn’t take much of a sales job; those smushy brown-eyed faces just melt me.

Reality rears its ugly head sometimes. You remember why you should listen to that rational side of your brain. Now that gas is over $4.00/ gallon, it will be more than just an inconvenience to have to come home on my lunch hour to take the dog out. When we want to take our mini-getaway in August, I have to hope that Youngest Son will be around to take care of her or else we’ll have to board her. And yesterday, the dumb-ass attacked the neighbor’s stupid little spoiled Welsh Corgi.

Sky was following me around like the good companion she can be while I was watering the garden and hanging up clothes. But I lost focus on her for just a second while I was reeling up the hose. In that instant, she had spotted the other dog, locked on, and ran like the wind. I looked up and saw her focused on something, called to her, but it was too late. Before I got over there, they were already rolling around growling on the neighbor’s lawn. Barb and I were terrified.

Neither one of us were about to get in the middle of a dog fight and every time Corgi got away, Sky would run after him before I could grab onto her collar. Barb somehow thought quickly and picked up her garden hose and started to spray Sky to get her to back off. It finally worked long enough for her to back off so I could grab her collar and drag her back across the street, losing one of my flip-flops on the way. I threw wet dog in the house and then proceeded to retrieve my shoe and see how Corgi was doing. Barb and I were both shaking; she had put her dog in the house and said she was afraid to look at it yet. I hadn’t seen any blood and I told her that I thought they were both OK, but to let me know.

Later that day, Barb was walking her dog. Seems it was only missing some hair, according to her. I couldn’t see where, but I was grateful nothing worse happened. Barb says her dog doesn’t like being sniffed. I’m pretty sure it lashed out at Sky when she ran over to greet it; Corgi has gotten into other dog fights before and even Barb’s relatives do not want Corgi around after it tussled with their dogs. And Barb spoils it rotten. She walks it at least twice a day, cooks dinner for it, and gets it massages at the doggie spa. It’s the center of her universe. Part of my fear was that if my dog hurt her dog, she would probably snap and burn my house down. And, of course, I didn’t want to see it get hurt, even if I’m not particularly fond of it.

Dogs are fun and cute and add excitement to one’s life. But sometimes, it’s a little more excitement than you need!

Our Boxer–Mama’s Other Baby

sky-3.jpgsky.jpgsky-7.jpg

When the kids first wanted a dog, I would have no part of it. I didn’t grow up with dogs, and I was afraid of them. I don’t remember the incident itself, but was told that when I was about 2 years old, a large neighbor dog had jumped on me and knocked me down (while my mother screamed helplessly). She’s afraid of dogs, too. I just remember always being a little leery of dogs and even sometimes having bad dreams about them. But life is always full of surprises, and BOY was everybody surprised when I caved and became the owner of our first beautiful two-year-old flashy fawn Boxer. It was fate that could not be denied. First, we had just gotten a house with a big yard. Then, the boys and their dad, and my dad, kinda wore me down a little saying “those boys need a dog”. Also, the neighbor kid had a Lab and when he wanted to be mean, would invite the other kids inside for Oreos (knowing that my youngest was afraid of his dog and would be left out). I didn’t want him to be afraid like I was. Then, the bargain-hunter in me was tempted when my husband’s friend Lou wanted to find a good home for his second boxer. Two frisky dogs was a little more than they could handle. So I agreed to meet Prudence, but did not yet commit to adopting her. Well, it was love at first sight. As soon as I saw those big brown eyes, I HAD to have her. Even after I saw the big pile of poop she had left in Lou’s truck.

I loved Prudence, and walked her and helped take care of her for the 10 years we were lucky enough to have her. But I never really held her or pet her much until she got old and frail and started having convulsions. Knowing we would lose her soon broke down the final barriers. Now we have our gorgeous Sky, and she gets all the hugs and kisses a playful happy soul like her deserves. If your kids are bugging you for a dog, you may want to open yourself up to the experience. You may find out that you, too, need a dog. sky-4.jpg


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