my roommate had a a german dog that starts with a w. it is a big hunting dog and there are a bunch of old time pictures of these dogs dressed up as people, playing cards and weird stuff like that (hunting camp?). this dogs was always nervous, hungry, and jealous. it would break windows out of excitement when its owner would come home, out of control. it ate anything. we had to lock up the garbage, even in the bathrooms. bread on the counter was gone, you'd find the bag in the backyard. the dog would steal food cooking on the stove. when the owner was on tour, it would make whining sounds for weeks, and weeks, and weeks. one night, after getting in late after work, i let her out to do her thing. i get ready for sleepy-time and go to let her in. i open the door to a big ass cat in the door way. the dog and i are sandwhiching the cat, i have the enough time for the thought of where's the dog? to pass through my feeble tired mind. and in that instant, the dog has chased the cat into my house. it is about 3 am. they are fighting in front of my roomate's bedroom, it is an awful mess of noise and series of events. i get the dog off the cat, and what does the cat do? well, reader, what is the logical thing to do? i would run out the fucking wide open back door and find me an alley to get my shit together, but this asshole cat runs into the living room and makes a stand under the end table. it is a pissed off world of grumbling fierceness. i am thinking possesion by the sound of this critter. so being mr. nice guy, one dude sensitivity, i lock up the dog in my bedroom. the dog is going crazy barking and clawing and just plain out tearing shit up. i am now talking to this possessed cat and trying now to shoo it out the front door...this goes on for about 15 minutes. i only need this cat to go about 5 and 1/2 feet to get it out of my house and it has definately made its stand. about this time i wake up my roomate, and boy does he look confused, and very very tired. he starts talking to the cat, trying to shoo it out the front door. after about 15 minutes he gets tired of this. the cat decides he's bored with the situation. the cat releases the most foul smelling shit the world will ever know, yes right there under the end table at 3:30am. i decide this can go on all night and i would really prefer just get it done. i want this cat out of my house, i do not want it hurt, i need a plan. a broom! i will sweep the cat right out of the door! yes! fucking brillant! a broom! well, the cat is much stronger and well positioned for a usefull tool like a broom to be very effective. i am amazed at this cat's strength and reluctance to get out its own shitpile and out of the door. so, what am to do? well, we build a retaining wall from a tipped over couch and coffee table to channel the exit route of the cat out of the front door. i arm my roomate with the broom. i get the dog on a leash. we charge over our wall, the dog is just really remarkable at this point, i kick the table over and let the dog have enough slack to get the point across. that fucking cat got the idea and we channeled it right out into moon light. that is my story. i hate them both.

Ranxerox wrote:I let my girlfriend bring a second dog into the family, a Boxer-Basenji mix that I think about killing every day.

The dog digs holes in the back yard, chews up everything (partly a general puppy problem), has incredible halitosis (even for a dog),

I realise the halitosis is probably the least of your grievances with this beast, but sometimes boxers need to have their gums cut back (by a veterinarian!). Though if the dog is a really young, this likely isn't the problem.

My brother had a pitbull named Zeke that he rescued from some abusive bikers. It ate the passenger seat of his '72 Land Rover and once chewed through a house door. Eventually my brother had to put Zeke down.

My cat is great, but she hid my glasses the other day. I am convinced of this!

i just wracked up a credit card debt of $1300 or so to keep my little ashtmatic cat (yow) alive.

i have asthma. i didn't want to be killed for having it. i'm pretty sure the cat felt the same way.

i still love him though.

in other news: i had a girlfriend who had two of the most poorly behaved shih-tzu's in the entire world.

once one of them bit me so i punched it in the face. dogs should not bite people, end of story. i'm sure he'll think twice before biting anyone again.

(in the crap/not crap about daschunds someone mentioned how people with small dogs don't train them not to bite since usually little harm will come of it. my aunt had a cairn terrier that bit her childs face and he has a visible scar to this day. he's 34.)

i hated both those dogs. they weren't house trained, they begged during meals, slept in the bed, they knew no tricks. constantly tried to run away. one was afraid of rain, and when it would rain he would lose his shit and run around like crazy just crying and whimpering. they broke things, chewed things, humped things, ugh. just the worst dogs.

i'm so glad i never have to deal with them again.

Only once have I hated an animal I took in, and then only after it had delivered a masterstroke of fecal decoration in my home.

Nigel lasted three days in the apartment. He and Bas, the incumbent cat, did not like each other. How deep their hatred ran for each other only became clear on the third evening.

We were not home for the fight, but were we greeted with its aftermath when we arrived.

At some point during the day, Bas had chased Nigel around the apartment, scattering records and various items everywhere. But as with all good parties, the best stuff happened in the kitchen.

In the kitchen, a stripe of runny cat shit ringed the wall above the kitchen counter. It was as if a chef had taken a pastry bag filled with cat diarrhea and squeezed out a continuous line of the stuff, following the wall-mounted kicthen counter, leaving a good fifteen linear feet of poo on the wall and on the counter, (but mainly on the wall.)

The smell deserves special attention here. The kitchen counter was the natural home for many objects, including the spice rack, which lay on the floor. Upon the counter, however, several glass spice jars had been broken in the fight and their savory contents were freely mixed with the runny cat shit.

In the presence of this, the aromatic receptors in my brain registered equal parts "delicious" and "shit."

When I strayed near a pile of dried oregano that sat upon a thick pad of runny cat shit, I threw up.

Poor Nige. Bye, Nige.

-r

LAD wrote:Tell us about that asshole gerbil

This phrasing has the potential to drag the thread pretty far off topic.

...

hiredgeek wrote:my roommate had a a german dog that starts with a w. it is a big hunting dog and there are a bunch of old time pictures of these dogs dressed up as people, playing cards and weird stuff like that (hunting camp?). this dogs was always nervous, hungry, and jealous. it would break windows out of excitement when its owner would come home, out of control. it ate anything. we had to lock up the garbage, even in the bathrooms. bread on the counter was gone, you'd find the bag in the backyard. the dog would steal food cooking on the stove. when the owner was on tour, it would make whining sounds for weeks, and weeks, and weeks. one night, after getting in late after work, i let her out to do her thing. i get ready for sleepy-time and go to let her in. i open the door to a big ass cat in the door way. the dog and i are sandwhiching the cat, i have the enough time for the thought of where's the dog? to pass through my feeble tired mind. and in that instant, the dog has chased the cat into my house. it is about 3 am. they are fighting in front of my roomate's bedroom, it is an awful mess of noise and series of events. i get the dog off the cat, and what does the cat do? well, reader, what is the logical thing to do? i would run out the fucking wide open back door and find me an alley to get my shit together, but this asshole cat runs into the living room and makes a stand under the end table. it is a pissed off world of grumbling fierceness. i am thinking possesion by the sound of this critter. so being mr. nice guy, one dude sensitivity, i lock up the dog in my bedroom. the dog is going crazy barking and clawing and just plain out tearing shit up. i am now talking to this possessed cat and trying now to shoo it out the front door...this goes on for about 15 minutes. i only need this cat to go about 5 and 1/2 feet to get it out of my house and it has definately made its stand. about this time i wake up my roomate, and boy does he look confused, and very very tired. he starts talking to the cat, trying to shoo it out the front door. after about 15 minutes he gets tired of this. the cat decides he's bored with the situation. the cat releases the most foul smelling shit the world will ever know, yes right there under the end table at 3:30am. i decide this can go on all night and i would really prefer just get it done. i want this cat out of my house, i do not want it hurt, i need a plan. a broom! i will sweep the cat right out of the door! yes! fucking brillant! a broom! well, the cat is much stronger and well positioned for a usefull tool like a broom to be very effective. i am amazed at this cat's strength and reluctance to get out its own shitpile and out of the door. so, what am to do? well, we build a retaining wall from a tipped over couch and coffee table to channel the exit route of the cat out of the front door. i arm my roomate with the broom. i get the dog on a leash. we charge over our wall, the dog is just really remarkable at this point, i kick the table over and let the dog have enough slack to get the point across. that fucking cat got the idea and we channeled it right out into moon light. that is my story. i hate them both.

I had a similar experience with a feral cat that crawled in my house during the night.

I awoke at about 3 in the morning to brutal cat fight sounds rolling up and down the stairs. I opened my bedroom door to the most ugly looking "cat" I have ever seen. It was fighting with my roommate's cat and there was hair EVERYWHERE!!!

I had the same problem trying to get the cat out of my house. I did manage to plant a huge loogey right on it's head though.

Feral cats disgust me the same way rats do.

oxlongm wrote:

LAD wrote:Tell us about that asshole gerbil

This phrasing has the potential to drag the thread pretty far off topic.

Ah, si, finally this is mentioned.

I love my cat. I really do. It has taken a lot of effort to reach this equilibrium. We have worked on this together, where I don't do anything she doesn't like and she doesn't SHIT ON MY FUCKING BED.

So, like this morning, when I find shit on my bed, I know it is because of something I have done.

Do the Gerbil Dance.