Stupid dog-owners make me go "Mrrrrrr."
Dec. 6th, 2008 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wordinistaHad a slightly weird thing happen tonight, and I'm finding myself kind of... still vaguely annoyed over it.
In the middle of watching the 'Bama-Gator game, Darwin ran over to the front door, barking. He shoved his muzzle through the mail slot and started sniffing, and then paced the foyer, really agitated. I peeked through the window and saw two dogs standing in our driveway. Since I'd seen a flyer around regarding two lost dogs in the area, George and I went outside armed with a flashlight, leashes, and liver treats. They weren't the right dogs, but had collars and tags, so they were obviously someone's pet, and we brought them over to Mom's house, since she's got the fenced-in yard. (I'll just skip over the part where I tried to call her over and over again and she did not pick up her phone which seems to be par for the course when there's actually something wrong.) We got her two little dogs inside, and herded the two strays into the yard, at which point we got the collars off the doggies to look for owner information.
Now, one of the pups was a fairly young-looking Golden Retriever. I'd guestimate him to have been about a year old, maybe a year and a half. He was pretty small, and his coat hadn't come in completely yet. The other dog was a Leonberger, and ... y'know, "huge" really does not cut it. A giant, bear-like dog, who had absolutely no manners whatsoever, and seemed obsessed with humping the Golden, and then tried to hump ME, and he and I had a talk and I expressed to him quite clearly that that was not on. Neither seemed to know the "sit" command, and neither had been fixed (made evident by the Leon humping everything and also marking various points around Mom's yard -- Gizmo will be very busy tomorrow...).
Now, the Goldie was ... he was actually in pretty good shape. But the Leonberger looked like he'd been roaming for a while. He stunk to high heaven, and his coat had just... godawful mats, especially around the collar. According to their collars, the Goldie was named "Sparky," and the Leo was named "Mattei."
But anyway! Called the phone number on the tags! Like you do!
...The phone number was out of service. Insert WTF here.
The address, however, was less than a mile down our street, and I volunteered to drive down to the house. George wanted Mom to go with me, which subjected me to a round of "Mom Standard Time" -- when she says she'll be out in X minutes, but the reality is anywhere from two to four times the initial estimate. SO! We finally got to the house, and there were cars in the driveway and the lights were on (cue sigh of relief here). I knocked on the door and apparently the owner did not realize his dogs had Houdini'd out of his yard, and was like, "ZOMG ON MY WAY," so we went back to the house, he collected his dogs, and all was well.
Except.
Um. What the hell, man. Who in their right mind has a dog like a Leonberger and not only doesn't teach it basic manners, but doesn't bother to make the effort to train it to a point where the dog is remotely controllable on-leash. Because, uh. This guy? Had NO control over his ENORMOUS, GIGANTIC, BEAR-LIKE DOG. None. Seriously, NONE. The dog all but dragged the owner to his truck, and he needed me to help the Golden get to the truck, because he was so overwhelmed by the Leo. (Also, the Goldie seemed kind of hand-shy, which broke my heart and pissed me off in turns.)
And also. ALSO. The condition of the Leo's coat was DEPLORABLE. There were mats ALL up in his fur, some of them roughly the diameter of a dime. How -- HOW do you let your dog's coat get to be in that kind of condition? And if you ARE a lazy sumbitch, then why have a dog with a high-maintenance coat in the first place? According to the breed-club's website, the Leonberger requires daily brushing. Now, maybe you can push that to a couple of times a week, or maybe even a weekly brushing, but if that dog's been brushed within the past month, I'd eat my hat.
I just... don't understand people. I'm trying not to think too hard about this, because both dogs tails started wagging like crazy when the owner came to pick them up (even if they were utterly out of control). But I'm still feeling... vaguely annoyed.
AND WHO THE HELL KEEPS A DISCONNECTED NUMBER ON THEIR DOGS' IDENTIFICATION TAGS?
Argh. People.
In the middle of watching the 'Bama-Gator game, Darwin ran over to the front door, barking. He shoved his muzzle through the mail slot and started sniffing, and then paced the foyer, really agitated. I peeked through the window and saw two dogs standing in our driveway. Since I'd seen a flyer around regarding two lost dogs in the area, George and I went outside armed with a flashlight, leashes, and liver treats. They weren't the right dogs, but had collars and tags, so they were obviously someone's pet, and we brought them over to Mom's house, since she's got the fenced-in yard. (I'll just skip over the part where I tried to call her over and over again and she did not pick up her phone which seems to be par for the course when there's actually something wrong.) We got her two little dogs inside, and herded the two strays into the yard, at which point we got the collars off the doggies to look for owner information.
Now, one of the pups was a fairly young-looking Golden Retriever. I'd guestimate him to have been about a year old, maybe a year and a half. He was pretty small, and his coat hadn't come in completely yet. The other dog was a Leonberger, and ... y'know, "huge" really does not cut it. A giant, bear-like dog, who had absolutely no manners whatsoever, and seemed obsessed with humping the Golden, and then tried to hump ME, and he and I had a talk and I expressed to him quite clearly that that was not on. Neither seemed to know the "sit" command, and neither had been fixed (made evident by the Leon humping everything and also marking various points around Mom's yard -- Gizmo will be very busy tomorrow...).
Now, the Goldie was ... he was actually in pretty good shape. But the Leonberger looked like he'd been roaming for a while. He stunk to high heaven, and his coat had just... godawful mats, especially around the collar. According to their collars, the Goldie was named "Sparky," and the Leo was named "Mattei."
But anyway! Called the phone number on the tags! Like you do!
...The phone number was out of service. Insert WTF here.
The address, however, was less than a mile down our street, and I volunteered to drive down to the house. George wanted Mom to go with me, which subjected me to a round of "Mom Standard Time" -- when she says she'll be out in X minutes, but the reality is anywhere from two to four times the initial estimate. SO! We finally got to the house, and there were cars in the driveway and the lights were on (cue sigh of relief here). I knocked on the door and apparently the owner did not realize his dogs had Houdini'd out of his yard, and was like, "ZOMG ON MY WAY," so we went back to the house, he collected his dogs, and all was well.
Except.
Um. What the hell, man. Who in their right mind has a dog like a Leonberger and not only doesn't teach it basic manners, but doesn't bother to make the effort to train it to a point where the dog is remotely controllable on-leash. Because, uh. This guy? Had NO control over his ENORMOUS, GIGANTIC, BEAR-LIKE DOG. None. Seriously, NONE. The dog all but dragged the owner to his truck, and he needed me to help the Golden get to the truck, because he was so overwhelmed by the Leo. (Also, the Goldie seemed kind of hand-shy, which broke my heart and pissed me off in turns.)
And also. ALSO. The condition of the Leo's coat was DEPLORABLE. There were mats ALL up in his fur, some of them roughly the diameter of a dime. How -- HOW do you let your dog's coat get to be in that kind of condition? And if you ARE a lazy sumbitch, then why have a dog with a high-maintenance coat in the first place? According to the breed-club's website, the Leonberger requires daily brushing. Now, maybe you can push that to a couple of times a week, or maybe even a weekly brushing, but if that dog's been brushed within the past month, I'd eat my hat.
I just... don't understand people. I'm trying not to think too hard about this, because both dogs tails started wagging like crazy when the owner came to pick them up (even if they were utterly out of control). But I'm still feeling... vaguely annoyed.
AND WHO THE HELL KEEPS A DISCONNECTED NUMBER ON THEIR DOGS' IDENTIFICATION TAGS?
Argh. People.
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no subject
Date: 2008-12-07 07:02 am (UTC)And I also acknowledge that sometimes even well-trained dogs forget themselves. Darwin's manners are GOOD, but far from perfect (he still barks like Cujo when someone's at the door, and has definite issues with people coming into HIS house -- but we're working on those issues).
But that level of utter cluelessness just... makes my soul weep sometimes, because it's not THAT hard to teach a dog to understand the ... I hate this term, but I'm using it anyway: the pack order. They obviously knew who they could push around, and who they couldn't push around.
I really don't get those people. Is it really that hard to do a gnat's ass worth of research on a breed? If you're a lazy bastard, then get a lazy dog. There is a dog breed for everyone, I'm sure of it! People just have to engage their brains a little and not get a dog because it's pretty.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-07 07:20 am (UTC)I guess it's just, I get that no one's perfect. But there's not being perfect, and working with your dog, and then there's just... not bothering to even try. Like getting a dog with a lovely long coat that any idiot ought to realize would need to be brushed and washed regularly, and letting it mat up. If you can't be bothered to do that, you don't get a Leonberger. You get, oh, I don't know. Say a mastiff, if you're looking for a dog the size of a pony.
And if you don't want to train them, you get a push stuffed animal.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-07 08:39 pm (UTC)Uh. Then fucking brush your dog more often than, oh, never? I am familiar with mats. Darwin gets them on his ears and his "britches" (the fur on the backs of his legs -- it's very long and coarse). He gets mats because Sydney chews on him. And guess what? The mats are manageable because I brush him about once a week! THEY DO NOT GROW TO BE THE SIZE OF A DIME OR NICKEL OVERNIGHT.
And I am not even going to start on the part where he has two intact male dogs. WTF, spay and neuter, asshole.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-07 09:39 pm (UTC)Yeah, I was kind of avoiding that. Because it just didn't even seem like it needed to be mentioned.
You know, I think it's a guy thing, because every once in a while I meet men who get squeamish about neutering their freaking dogs. And they'll say the most ridiculous freaking things about it. I remember coming across a guy, and I wish I could remember the exact words, but it basically came down to actually, seriously not thinking that a dog got as much respect if it didn't have balls. Really.