Some dogs can do it all. Guarding, hunting and digging holes. I am one of those dogs and so is Boet. Boet is my friend. When she was little, she looked almost as cute as I did:
Now she is a bit older and her blue eyes turned brown, but she is still gorgeous:
Nice smile, hey? Her breed, the Frisian Stabij, originates from the north of The Netherlands and had to do everything: guarding and hunting. We both love to fetch balls and we both are clever and independent. Come to think of it: maybe she has royal roots, too. Of some ancient Frisian line? I’ll ask her, next time I see her.
I had a wonderful weekend. We went to the beach every day, I chased seagulls and balls and I slept in the sun. And I had a splendid breakfast at the beachclub. I am not very picky when it comes to my breakfast, but I can tell you: this was top.
It was not just for me, I have to be honest about this. I had to share it with M and P, my other boss. I am living with M and P, did I mention this before? Anyway, the breakfast was smelling great and I thought it was for me, but one can never be sure (M likes food so much she sometimes forgets to share). So I used my Method™. I am very successful in this. And since I am a social dog, I will share it with you, for FREE. So you can benefit from it too, next time your human is eating something great.
This is the Method™:
Sometimes you have to do this for a long time before your human gets the idea, but dogs don’t mind. Humans have watches, dogs have time, right? I will summarize the Method™, so you can learn it by heart:
- Put your head on your human’s leg (when he/she is sitting, otherwise it won’t work);
- Give him/her your sweetest look. This look should tell him/her two things: you are the best boss in the world & I will die from hunger if you won’t give me what you are eating;
- Never give up.
Just try it, it always works.
I just received a very cool picture of me and my friends. It was made some time ago, by Nicoline, my personal trainer. You know, the Dutch Dog Whisperer I told you about earlier.
In this picture, you see my friends and Nicoline’s own dog, Fiesta. She is the shepherd dog on the left. Fiesta is no longer with us, at least, not in her old, physical form. Humans don’t seem to notice, but we dogs do – of course! Our senses are so much better. If your deceased dog was truly your friend, he or she is still with you, looking after you. If you weren’t good to your dog, he probably is with you too and causing you a lot of distress. In case you are wondering where the hell all this misery is coming from all of sudden – now you know why!
Fiesta was a grand dog and she really loved Nicoline. And vice versa. I think she will do some good things to Nicoline in the coming years. Like… making her win the biggest price in a contest (a living rabbit!) and having the sun shining when she goes out. Important things like that.
Me and Fiesta did not get along very well, I must admit. She was the alpha bitch of the pack. Of course I challenged her, I am not a very shy dog, you know. But she gave me a hard time. I did manage to sleep in her bed once, oh sweet victory. But my successes with her were, well, limited.
Anyway, I won’t challenge her now. Not anymore. You cannot challenge totems, in case you didn’t know.
My boss really loves me. She did something awesome: she enlisted me in a hunting training! She did, because she suspects me to have hunting skills…. She watches all this Cesar Millan shows on television and he shows it works well to put dogs in their natural role. Like sheepherding or guarding. One evening she looked at me and said I might be a hunting dog. Ha! I could have told her a year ago I have hunting skills, because my predecessors were hunting dogs to the Greek nobility. I am sure about that.
So now we train every week, with a group of impressive other hunting dogs. M was first a bit reluctant, because she doesn’t like the idea of hunting. You know, killing other animals. I don’t understand this, because we eat meat. Meat is dead animals. It has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it? In my opinion, you’d better eat a rabbit that enjoyed a wild life in the fields than a poor chicken that has never seen daylight in her life, because she grew up in one of these awful chickenfactories (I know this, because M supports groups who are against this industry. If I get bored, I read their stuff, too. Mainly because they show pictures of tasty animals).
So far, the training is colossal. We search and run and bring back… pink dummies. Alas, we don’t chase animals. Not yet: they tell us that if we perform well, we will hunt real rabbits and ducks and partridges. My mouth is watering. I will really, really do my best to get to this next level!
This is a picture of me, concentrating during hunting training. I am wearing a cool hunting leash (which is matching the pink dummy – one has to be stylish, always):
M loves biking. It was new to me, in Greece we don’t bike so much, but in Holland everyone does. Old people, kids… everybody cycles. They even take babies with them on their bike! And, so it turned out, dogs.
When I was a puppy, I fitted in a crate. Like this:
By the way, this is M. It was winter, as you can see, and very cold. I got used to traveling like this easily, because I am a courageous dog. Ha, you don’t scare me by putting me in a crate!
Then, as I grew taller and taller, M thought of another solution. So this is how she took me, when we were on holiday:
As you can see, I was totally relaxed. This was about a year ago and I have grown since, but I still fit in this basket. If I fold my long legs, that is.
The best I saved for last. Because this is what I travel in in Holland. A real cargobike! I have lots of space in there, which sometimes I share with my friends. In this picture I am with Hester, who as a moviestar is posing for the photographer. Me myself, I am guarding the surroundings, in case another dog wants to get close to my cargobike. That, of course, I cannot allow.
I notice there are a lot of blogs about food. Blogging about delicious things, what a great idea! So I will blog about all the tasty things I like, too. To start with: pigeon.
I would so love to eat a pigeon. They look big and juicy, they should taste wonderful. The sad thing is, I never actually tasted one. We have tons of pigeons in our garden, but I am not allowed to hunt them. It has something to do with me ruining the garden – which I don’t get. In my opinion, the garden gets better when there are little and not-so-little extra paths between the plants.
Anyhow, I am still dreaming of hunting pigeon. In real life, this is how far I get:
One day, I Will Succeed. And I’ll let you know all about it!
As a blogger, one should be honest, I just heard. I want to be an honest dog, so here I go. I have to make up with my friend Hester and I will write to her, which is easier for me than telling her I am sorry.
I am very sorry I attacked you in your house, yesterday. You weren’t there when I arrived and I was having a very pleasant time, playing with your toys and eating your food. But then, you came home. You walked right into the living room where I was, not suspecting you. You startled me and in a reflex I jumped on you and tried to bite you. Of course, you fought back. We could have had a nice big fight, but M and your boss would not allow it and M put me in the corridor. And that was it.
I’d like to apologize to you for wanting to chase you out of your own house. I’ve done a lot of thinking about it today and my conclusions are that it was not right. So: sorry. Shake paws?