Our two dogs have a few things in commons but are very different for the most part.
Mackie is the type of dog that makes some smaller dogs pee themselves a little
bit when he walks by. You can’t blame them, Mackie looks very intimidating.:
Mack trots past that yard with the those two pain-in-the-balls border collies like he can’t even hear their hysterics. Doesn’t even acknowledge them. They can all kiss Mack’s brown brindled ass away because he don’t give two turds about anything but three things: Food, Treat Lady and protecting Treat Lady…..
…and I’m Treat Lady.
This name came about after Justin and I had been dating for about 2 years. Mack’s favorite person started to shift from his long time buddy Justin, to me, much to Justin‘s disbelief. This was because I had a higher treat-give ratio than Justin. Only outweighing Mack by 2 lbs at the time, I could not physically lift or move Mack to get him to go potty outside, into the bathtub or to get him off of the area rug I was vacuuming. I started “Trail o’ Treats” to get him to move accordingly and since Mack is HIGHLY food motivated, I soon had a constant bulldog in my shadow, hanging on my every word and move, making sure I’m within eye-shot at all times. Because if Treat Lady dies, who will feed him?
If Mack had any testicles left, he’d give one of them for whatever you’re eating there. He’d perform a song and dance so spectacular for a baby carrot. He’d kill a family of four for a piece of lunchmeat. He once made a complete and total fool of himself for a single Cheerio. And it was actually the generic form of Cheerios, Toasty O’s. And it was stale. Mack has sunk pretty low for the most mediocre of payouts. Even though neither one of our dogs are fed table scrapes and are trained to lay in the living room during dinner, Mack still drools from several feet away, imaging the taste, forming puddles on the floor. His love affair with food is constant:
I stand corrected. There are actually 4 things Mack cares about. The 4th thing is children and people. Mack is very social and is always up for meeting new people. Mack loves having company and going to parties and festivals. We can’t pass a stranger on a walk without Mackie saying hi. If we tell Mack no, he’ll “throw down the anchor”, meaning he’ll pop a sit in the middle of the road in protest, no matter if cars are coming or what. He especially loves to meet babies and small children and he’s very gentle, knows how to make himself sweet and not look or act so intimidating. He’d guard your children with his life:
-DON’T touch his paws or toe pads. My husband likes to torment Mack by doing this, another reason Mack is now Team Treat Lady.
-Laying on his back. Too vulnerable!
-Baths. We have to spell that word out in this house. We have to trick him into the bathroom a different way every time.
-Large Breed Dogs. I never saw Mack so scared as the time we saw a bull mastiff at Petco. That mastiff could not have been more docile, but Mack was scared out of his gord.
-Warm weather. He loves the cool linoleum floor in the summer. He gives you a look when you ask him to go for a walk in July.
-Coyotes. We have a few in our neck of the woods and Mack has successfully chased them out of our yard and our neighbors yard a few times.
-As mentioned previously, his obsession with laser pointers, flashlights and reflections is of feline level.
-Farts 2-4 times an hour, and they range from tear-jerkers to 5-alarm fire.
-Only command he knows is “sit”. You can forget that paw-shaking bullshit.
-Nurses/suckles on his stuffed toys for hours on end. It’s is happy place 😉
-Actually enjoys going to the vet. Loves the pets and treats he gets from all of the doctors and assistants. That, and the car-ride there. Loves to ride in the car.
-Stubborn. Really doesn’t listen for shit. You pretty much need a treat in your pocket at all times to get his attention.
-Tolerates small dogs, but doesn’t engage with them.
-Mostly lays around the house, does not get too energetic unless there’s food or..
-…he’s just finished taking a dump. Then a “victory run” ensues.
You have to give Peterbilt credit. Deep down, he wants to be a big, intimidating watch dog like his dad but just has to much nervous energy for his own good:
Peterbilt is the type of dog that totally lets those annoying border collies totally get under his skin. He also is a target for dogs that are looking for a fight. I’ve seen Pete get beat up by big and small breed dogs. Mack has bulldozed more than one dog off of Peter, most recently a Jack Russell terrier who didn’t like the way Peterbilt looked/smelled/acted/you talk funny. Yes, even with Mack and Pete’s history, Mackie still sticks up for his son. That Jack Russell took one look at Mack and retreated to his yard.
Peterbilt is just fine on walks during daylight but once the sun sets, everything is big and scary. He’ll bark at night at the same neighbor that pets him during the day. When we are on walks, he usually backs his butt up to me or my husband to bark at true strangers. He once stood his back 2 paws on my feet and did a big boy woof at a group of teenagers, who totally laughed at him. Hell, I laughed at him.
Like his dad, Peterbilt follows me around but his motivations are different. Peterbilt is a mama’s boy, but is mostly looking for security in my presence whereas Mack is providing my security.
Peterbilt mainly cares about these things in the following order: Food, his mom, car-rides, chasing squirrels, trying to be watchdog. Yes, Peterbilt is also Team Treat Lady. I’m a hot commodity.
Peterbilt is a klutz and is still in his energetic stage of this life, a problematic combination. Peterbilt needs several walks a day and verbally complains to me when he is bored. When he wants to be a shit, he tears ass across the house and jumps on the bed:
Peterbilt likes to be social but takes a while to warm up to you. Once you’re in, you’re his new best friend though. Peterbilt has done well around children but is still a bit wild and crazy, so his exposure is limited.
-Afraid of the dark, since he cannot see as well. Fear of the unknown, with this one
-Loud noises and most recently, thunder, after a bad storm we had in June.
-Baths, but he is easier to trick into the bathroom that his wise old father.
-His gentle leader. He hates to wear it but he needs to learn not to pull so hard on walks. When we walk him without it, his little nub-tail wags just a little bit.
-Having his temperature taken or anything touching his butt hole. This is most likely the fault of some impatient student vet techs during his 2 surgeries performed at the University. If anything brushes his bum, or if our feet accidentally touch his butt on our bed, he cusses us out and runs away. Poor baby.
-Being left home alone. Peterbilt expresses his disappointment by eating or destroying anything left out and/or urinates in the house. We’ve gotten good about hiding shoes before we leave. That, and we’ve invested in a personal trainer, busy toys and treats.
-He completed all 3 levels of obedience classes at Petsmart and knows a variety of tricks and commands including: Sit, Come, Stay, Stand, Leave It, Shake, Down, Roll Over, Wave, High Five, Down and Knock It Off. Despite his destructive nature, he actually listens and responds to commands.
-Has a few dog besties and gets occasional play dates. Loves to run and roughhouse with other dogs that enjoy the like.
-Sleeps on his back.
-The woman who cropped Peterbilt’s tail after birth really docked it short. Instead of a stump, he has a nubbin. We sometimes call him Button Butt:
-Farts 2-4 times an hour. They’re just as bad as Mack’s
-Sometimes enjoys going to the vet. Lives for the car-ride part of it though.
-Loves cold weather, the more subzero the better. He goes insane the first snow of the year. Loves the white stuff:
Me and my husband:
We were married in August 2012. No kids yet. Both gainfully employed. We live in a house with a substantial yard in a suburb outside Minneapolis, MN. We have a lake house in northern MN which both dogs enjoy visiting immensely:
So now that you are caught up, stay tuned for stories of farting, feces and other embarrassing moments in dog-rearing!