The dog was probably trying to protect you because it assumed you were Juan's livestock.
Oh, hey, I just got to the part of the Innies thread about dogs. UNRELATED!
You put your pervert-warning notice before you got that far?
3: I did. Apparently with good reason.
In case you didn't scroll down in Stanley's link.
One of my life goals is to not get a dog until 2014.
I think the reason a stoned dude might be gathering weed on a beach is pretty clear.
Watching herding dogs work is really fascinating. My family had a couple of so-called miniature collies -- Shelties -- which initially seemed to me to be chosen by my parents more for prettiness (and they are that) than anything else, but man: their urge to herd various beings, humans or otherwise, was unstoppable. They're really not going to let up; not fooling around, these dogs.
I've seen them herd things much larger themselves, in a remarkably intelligent, crafty, manner. Racing circles around the group in question, narrowing in where needed, looping out to rein in a stray, gradually tightening the circle, and never stopping running and dashing and barking.
Pretty amazing. I think if I ever became a dog owner, I'd want a working dog, for the sheer pleasure/joy of watching them work.
I've been reading a little about the cynics recently, and I find some things appealing about their philosophy and some things not. I've also noticed the things I really like about them were the things that earned them the name "cynical" (=dog-like.) I'm beginning to suspect that what I really like are dogs, and the cynics are just pale imitators.
5: Queenie puppies look like space pigs. Their cuteness is overwhelming.
Well, yes.
My favorite story so far is about Crates and Hipparchia screwing in public. The tale of Diogenes masturbating the the marketplace gets all the attention, but Crates and Hipparchia are really much better, because she wore men's clothing and two people screwing is just sexier than one person masturbating.
I like to think she's the one who had to goad him into it. "Come on, are you a dog or aren't you? Let's do it RIGHT HERE."
two people screwing is just sexier than one person masturbating
That's the kind of statement that really makes you think just how nonuniform the class "people" is.
I have to say that I had no idea that "cynical" = dog-like.
It's certainly not the caninical usage.
I don't think this characterization of dogs behooves them, if I may be frank. I disapprove.
One of my life goals is to not get a dog until 2014.
Same here, except 2015. I really do not want a dog.
Sorry, I should clarify that I was referring this this portion of the wikipedia article:
Diogenes, in particular, was referred to as the Dog,[4] a distinction he seems to have revelled in, stating that "other dogs bite their enemies, I bite my friends to save them."[5] Later Cynics also sought to turn the word to their advantage, as a later commentator explained:There are four reasons why the Cynics are so named. First because of the indifference of their way of life, for they make a cult of indifference and, like dogs, eat and make love in public, go barefoot, and sleep in tubs and at crossroads. The second reason is that the dog is a shameless animal, and they make a cult of shamelessness, not as being beneath modesty, but as superior to it. The third reason is that the dog is a good guard, and they guard the tenets of their philosophy. The fourth reason is that the dog is a discriminating animal which can distinguish between its friends and enemies. So do they recognize as friends those who are suited to philosophy, and receive them kindly, while those unfitted they drive away, like dogs, by barking at them.
20: If we get sick of ours, can we mail it too you?
.... what happens in 2014/2015?
Also, the boy will be old enough to do some dog care himself.
25: Yes, but when do we get dogs that crap pot?
27: I like how nobody bothered to comment after that.
Further to 24 and 28, I jumped to this chapter, "Cynicism and Dandyism".
I'm off now, though, so I'll have to pick it up later.
Our dog makes a judgment pretty quickly whether someone is in our pack.
I love dogs, but they are a lot of work, and I wouldn't feel right having one except in the country where it could run around. my dad has a funny dog right now, a pit bull they saved from a fighting/breeding operation out by statesboro. she's "blue" (kind of grey really). she's also blind and it has given her a funny personality, slow to warm up to people, wary, disliking any change. perfect for my dad, and since he uses money to get pounds of killer hydro her lack of pot-crapping ability is ok. it's funny that he bothers to be so heavily armed when ain't nobody even brave enough to get out the car at our house.
I don't think this characterization of dogs behooves them, if I may be frank.
It bepaws them?
Why, a dog, whenever he sees a stranger, is angry; when an acquaintance, he welcomes him, although the one has never done him any harm, nor the other any good. Did this never strike you as curious?
The matter never struck me before; but I quite recognise the truth of your remark.
And surely this instinct of the dog is very charming; --your dog is a true philosopher.
Why?
Why, because he distinguishes the face of a friend and of an enemy only by the criterion of knowing and not knowing. And must not an animal be a lover of learning who determines what he likes and dislikes by the test of knowledge and ignorance?
Most assuredly.
And is not the love of learning the love of wisdom, which is philosophy?
But what's really stuck with me is that the dog had met me only half an hour before "saving" me from the stoned dude but already had me mentally filed away as on the Good Team. Maybe that's not terribly impressive, but I thought it was really kinda neat.
Well. Years ago, I got a call from my mother informing me my grandmother was worried about her dog (a collie) and requesting I head down there and check it out. And grandma, almost blind, and not wanting to leave the house, was correct - the dog was not coming inside due to a bad case of death (old age). Since she liked to keep her dogs nearby and had no money, I promptly shoveled out a hole and buried the dog. Problem was, was that was the last dog grandma had, and she was unhappy without company and a guard. So the ex and I went the next day to the rescue outfit showing at ex-'s store and they had a blue heeler, probably a mix. I liked the dog, the dog like me, it was groovy. I have no idea whether that dog had been well trained (I doubt it), but she hopped right in the car, we went straight back to grandma's and tah dah, new dog. Tabitha quickly (for an adult dog) took to grandma and afterwards grandma was the center of the dogs universe, right up to herding her around the house and making sure she was all right. No training needed, Tabby took right to it.
Later, we had to move grandma to an apartment, and the dog was fine. (A little bored, but fine.) When grandma suffered four heart attacks (we did not know) and eventually wound up in the hospital, she apparently suffered in incidental stroke as well. So when we got her back, it turned out grandma was delusional (she decided that she was staying at her favorite local news anchors house and she wanted to go 'home' (her house I suppose)). She was prescribed Risperdal, but it took a couple of days to kick in, so me and the folks swing-shifted visiting her every four hours until the meds kicked in, and the entire time the dog kept watch over her. As far I could tell (from whatever goofy stuff grandma was saying) Tab wouldn't let her go outside or do anything stupid. Tab was apparently of the opinion that funny acting old ladies need to stay seated and behave. (No idea what, if anything, the dog picked up, but Tab was very concerned about this strange situation.)
The meds kicked, grandma went back to normal, and they resumed their usual routine, until a couple of months later when grandma also suffered an unfortunate case of death. Which meant I had to check on my freaked out mother ('Uh, yeah, sorry mom, she's gone.'). The paramedics came and Tab was extremely unhappy about whatever was going on but she behaved herself (since I had to keep her away from the scene) quite well.
Then ex- took over for me, and we managed to get Tab adopted out (I had no room for her, sadly) to a nice Hispanic family with a little girl and Tab took right to the girl, figured out she had a new assignment and promptly went about her duties. The only problem was that Tab apparently decided she missed my grandma (we think) and decided to hoof it one day, and turned up about 20 miles away (she was paralleling the highway loop that encloses Dallas proper), halfway returned to grandma's place from her new home. But a quick drive back and she was fine.
Anyways, blues totally herd and are very bright creatures, but I have to say, I never had any problem talking Tab from a walk on the track. (I mentioned doing that on this blog once (had to be done nearly every day) and got attacked with low-hanging fruit.) Tab just didn't get aggressive or verbal with people in anyway, she just stood guard, and an imposing guard she was. It's possible that may have been her training (she was a rescue dog), but I don't think it really was, I think Tab just wasn't aggressive like that.
So I'm not sure your doggy friend there, Stanley, was 'naturally' keeping the other guy at bay. That just may be her (his?) particular personality. What's interesting to me is that, having decided you were one of hers, she didn't try and herd you back to the rest of the group. Because they very much will do that. Anyways, your new friend is not necessarily unusual in either trait, it's just that may be only that particular dog's style.
max
['But yes, they are exceptionally intelligent.']
That's a good story, well told. Now I want a dog and my grandma.
a Queensland Heeler, which I gather is one of these
35: they had a blue heeler,
Heh. This (the blue variant) is Max's dog in Road Warrior. A better post-apocalyptic dog breed than the one in A Boy and his Dog. At the bottom of the Wikipedia article they have a few similar stories.
Blue, an Australian Cattle Dog from Fort Myers, Florida, stood guard beside Ruth Gay, his 83-year-old owner who had fallen and injured herself. As she lay beside a canal, Blue launched repeated attacks against an alligator, receiving around thirty lacerations consistent with alligator bites. When the rest of the family returned home at 10:00 pm, Blue met the car and led them to where Ruth lay.
27: When do we get dogs that crap pot? There's prior art dating to 1978. I have a dim memory of my parents taking me to a drive-in double-feature of this and something else that I actually wanted to see - maybe Attack of the Killer Tomatos? I would have been 8 or 9. I recall at some point during the Cheech & Chong flick, my father asking me if I was learning any new words.
When do we get dogs that crap pot?
Genetic engineering. I don't think selective breeding will enough.
Proof that I'm old: I don't want a dog that craps pot so I can have pot. I want a dog that craps pot so people pick up the dog crap.
38:Flim connoser says Return of the Killer Tomatoes is the superior artwork, in part because of George Clooney and the cutest ever ever Karen Mistal. Mistal also saved Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death from the atrocious performances of Shannon Tweed, Adrienne Barbeau, and Bill Maher
I used to watch good movies.
