Welcome to The Boxer Dog Stories
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Monday, August 31, 2009
Meet Buddy, the shih tzu/ lhaso apso mix. He needs a forever home. If Mom and Dad were looking for another dog, they'd probably would have swiped him by now. But they have me and I'm enough dog for them.
Buddy is about 20 lbs and 3 yrs old. He was found as a stray, recently neutered and microchipped and has all his shots. Free to a loving home. Contact the B-Stud if interested.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
As a boxer dog, one thing we do best, other than farting, is boxing! I like to think I box like Roy Jones Jr. or Ali. Dad tells me my boxing ways get me into trouble.
Yesterday was our 2nd last class. Ms. Glenny says I have improved! But Dad then added I still wasn't ready for the CGN test. Ms. Glenny agreed. During the ride home, I asked Dad:
"Pops, what's the CGN test?"
"CGN is the canine good neighbout test."
"Does that mean I suck and no bitch will ever like me?"
"It means you need to work on your manners. You have some bad manners boy. As for the bitches, I'll choose a good one for you. You like chinese?"
"What? Chinese? Ah c'mon Dad....I don't want no chinese crested bitch..."
"What's wrong with Chinese, you don't like my heritage son?"
Later that night I looked up what the CGN test was all about. It seems like a series of 12 tests to evaluate the dog and owner. It is to demonstrate the confidence and control of dog and owner. I found myself thinking about the others in the class. They said Bosley was ready. What's he got that I don't got huh? He has good greetings. I kind of have good greetings. I like to box and wiggle when I greet new people. Maybe jump up at them occassionally. Bosley sits when he greets a dog. I can do that too, if I wanted to but I'm a socialite. I like to be up in your face, "...hi how's it going. I'm Brix! I'm a brindle boxer. What's your name what's your sign? " Maybe that's why I can't get a girl.
Next week is graduation. I better get to studying. Mom took time off to see me. So I hope I make her proud.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
So far boxer owners have said their pet peeves are:
1. Farting - we let 'em rip and we do it silently too.
2. Drooling - and then stepping in our drool. Yes, we like doing that.
3. Ear flapping - to the point where we wake people up, and then drooling while doing so.
4. Hyperness - we go 100 mph all the time! Oh and get out of the way!
5. Stepping on feet - hey we like to be close to our masters. We like jumping up on people too. Careful kids, we like jumping on you too.
6. Panty Thief - we like sniffing panties, and sometimes we eat them too. Yummm.
7. Disobedience - we listen when we want to, the rest of times, we like doing 1-7.
Check out what others have to say:
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Dad says I'm in the middle, not the best behaved but not the worst either. For the full article click on the link below:
Oscar so naughty, he may become Canadian champ
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Monday, August 24, 2009
GOOD THINGS ABOUT BOXERS
1. Boxers are loyal, needy and crave human companionship. They want to be part of the pack.
2. Boxers are the class clown and will amuse the whole family and friends. (Kidney bean wiggle)
3. Boxers are a medium size dog 22-25in at the withers and weigh from 50-85 lbs.
4. Boxers make good guard dogs and are protective of their family pack.
5. Boxers are known to be good with children and are a sturdy breed.
6. Boxers are a smart breed and can be easily trainable. They are part of the working group.
BAD THINGS ABOUT BOXERS
1. Boxers number one complain, farting! We fart a lot and it stinks!
2. Boxers have sensitive stomachs and can get food allergies.
3. Boxers sometimes have a stubborn streak. For us, it's getting into the car sometimes.
4. Boxers are prone to lumps, cancers and other breed health issues. They live on average 10 years.
5. Boxers leash pull, another common complaint. If not trained properly, we want to get there as fast as we can. It takes 2-3 years before we mentally mature.
6. Boxers, because they are protective, are not the friendliest breed. Proper training and greetings must be established when meeting strangers. After that, they are everybody's friend.
Well that's my small list. Feel free to add or let me know if I'm completely wrong!
Friday, August 21, 2009
"Cool!!!! Can I play with the tornado Dad?"
"Hell no Brix, you will die."
"Is a tornado like another word for dog?"
"It's another word for hide or run as far away from it as you can."
"Then how come we aren't running?"
""Don't try to out smart me boy."
Dad confuses me sometimes. That's an image of what it was like yesterday outside our house. Nothing scary really, just a lot of rain, thunder and lightning. I wasn't even scared like most dogs are. Tornados don't usually hit Toronto or Markham that often so it surprised Mom and Dad. It lasted for about an hour. Me and Dad went down to the basement to check out any damage.
"Damn, we got a leak down here," Dad cursed. I went to check it out.
"Hey Dad, check behind the dryer."
"Crap, look at the pool of water! Great!"
I learned that's what humans call sarcasm. Then Mom came down to have a look.
"Oh no! What the heck. How did the water get in?"
"I don't know ask Mattamy. Jeez, they better do something about this."
We went back up and just relaxed for the rest of night. In the morning we watched the news and saw many of the houses in Vaughn, near the mall, got destroyed. The highway 400 took some damage too. 1 boy was killed by the Tornado as he was camping on a conservation area.
I guess Dad was right, tornados kill. Now that I think back, we were lucky. Imagine we lost our house? Where would we live? What would we do? I guess I could live in my crate. I'd be happy with that but Mom and Dad wouldn't be able to fit inside with me. But that's ok, they'd get their own crate to live in and we'd all be happy again. We don't need a big fancy house!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
I know boxers can be ugly, (I'm an expection of course. Everyone knows I'm handsome and a stud.) but damn, my boxer-mix friend on the left is UGLY! Pabst is his name and he's a 4 year old boxer mix. But I'm proud of him 'cause he was crowned the WORLD'S UGLIEST
DOG at the Sonoma-Marin Fair in northern California. It's tough for a boxer to win anything these days. We hardly win best in show, we not the best at agility, and we definitely not good at herding. So kudos to Pabst, the ugliest dog in the world.
"He's ugly, but in a cute way." I hear that all the time.
Now check out ugly dog number 2. It seems chinese crested dogs always get a bad wrap for being ugly. It's like they started off life with a disadvantage already, being ugly. The hairless kind especially. Miss Ellie here won ugliest out of her pedigree. I agree hands down. No question about how ugly she is. Check that tongue out. Tuck it in or it might get caught in something girl. I would definitely not tap that. Uhhhhh.
The closest thing I'd ever win is, THE MOST HANDSOME BOXER EVER, or the SEXIEST LADIES MAN EVER. Too bad no contest for that. If we had the most rotten teeth contest, I'd probably win that too.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
He took me to class today and I had so much fun! I did everything Ms. Glenny told me to except the STAY command. She tricked me! I thought we were playing.
During class I got to demonstrate the FOCUS command with distractions to the WHOLE freaking class. I'm so popular but I'm no teacher's pet or anything you know. Oh, I was so good at it! Then we did emergency drop commands which I aced again. And again, I got to show the class how to dart through the agility tunnel. I'm a prostar....but I got in trouble with the STAY command.
"Brix, what's wrong with you. We do these all the time. The STAY command should be easy." Dad was getting frustrated.
"I wanna play with Ms. Glenny. Look she's running now! She's skipping! She's looking at me to play," I exclaimed.
"Brix, STAY." Dad commanded in a firm tone.
"Oh, a ball, let me have it!" That's my favourite.
"BRIX!!!!!!" Dad was fuming at this point.
"Good everyone, excellent with the stays, except for Brix." Ms. Glenny announced.
"What? We were doing the STAYS. Really?" Oops, oh well Dad will forgive me.
But he didn't. We got home and I had to study the STAY again, working in small increments and little distractions. I swear Dad should have joined the army. He's such a drill Sergeant.
Well, that's my life as a dog. How did yours go?
The unusual part about it, we saw about 6 dogs today, all in less than 30 mins. The accident happened as we were going home down a long stretch of road. I was running with Dad holding my leash, rollerblading behind me. Then, I spotted this small black min pin look a like but he was bigger and fatter. He started barking at me and dashed onto the road. Seeing he wanted to play, I ran closer to him and Dad followed. I think Dad turned his head to check for traffic and what happened next, I don't know.
SPLAT!!!!! Dad was flat on his stomach, hands out in front of him, face first. He must have slid a couple feet.
Dad got up, dusted his jacket, said nothing and kept going. The black min pin thingy stopped barking. That was it.
When we got home. I heard Mom and Dad talking.
"There go my jeans. Ah crap.....look at my knee. It's bloody!"
"What happened?", Mom asked
"All I remember, I was looking back to check for traffic. When I turned back, my rollerblade must have caught something and I fell flat on my stomach. It was like sliding into 2nd base face first."
"I wasn't even pissed until the owner of that black mixed thingy dog just chuckled a little and smiled. He saw the whole f-ing thing. Not even a...are you okay?.....from him. He just walked on. "
"Well people are just like that babe. He saw you got up and you were ok."
"Good thing I was wearing my jacket or else I would have stuck to the road."
I guess we won't be rollerblading for a while until Dad's knee heals. Today is class too. I hope we still go. We haven't seen Ms. Glenny in a while. Keep you guys posted.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
If you look closely, you might be able to see a couple blades of grass stuck between the front teeth. I save those for later when I'm hungry.
One day in the car, Mom noticed how my breath stank the joint up. Then she checked my teeth.
"OMG, have you seen Brix's teeth? They're rotten!"
"Yeah, the vet said no amount of brushing could get the plaque out." Dad replied.
No wonder I can't get a date! I wonder what would happen if I continued to have rotten teeth. Dad already did some research and this is what he keeps telling me. I made a list.
1. My teeth will becomes yellow or brown. That's the plaque. If left untreated, can we say periodontal disease?
2. Gingivitis happens which makes my gums red and inflamed.
3. My gums will receed because the gums are infected and the ligaments around the teeth are gone.
4. The worst case, Dad tells me, I could get kidney, liver and heart disease.
5. Dental cleaning for dogs isn't cheap!
I knew a dog who had 4 teeth and she was all right looking until she smiled. Mom now tries brushing my teeth everyday, each time causing my gums to bleed. I hate brushing. If you guys know of a better to get rid of doggie plaque, please leave a comment! Any whitener for dogs?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Dad usually takes me out in the morning 7am to do my business. One morning we were nearing my pee spot and Rotti on 52 turns the corner with his master. I stared at him and then his master. I stood erect and held my ground. I was actually relaxed and didn't even lunge until Rotti showed his teeth and growled at me.
"Get the f away from my master!" growled the Rotti.
"Then you best back your ass up and tuck your tail between your fat ass," I snapped.
"You better watch yoursl next time lil girl, oh ya...that's right, you're just small for a male"
Oh I could have killed him that day. As soon as I saw the pearly whites I should have attacked but then I realized I would have upset Dad. I just hate Rottweilers. I just do. I'm not racist or anything, they just get on my nerves. I saw him again today at the park where I was squatting and reading the paper. This time he was with his mom and a stroller. I could hear his growling as they got closer
"Come on little boxi girl. Why don't you come and play?"
I actually acted like a gentledog and walked away from him alongside my Dad.
"Awww what wrong? Gonna get in trouble for lunging by Daddy?
I had to give the Rotti a peace of my mind so I lunged with all of my might, hoping I could break the leash or my collar...but Dad intervened and disciplined me.
That's all Dad needed to say and I knew it was over. I shook my body to de-stress. It doesn't help that we are both males and both are protective breeds. In any case, if I see Rottweiler again, he better read the sign outside on our lawn. It says:
"Boxer Barking Only. All Others Will be Towed."
Trust me Rotti, I will tow your ass back to 52.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
"Brix! Let's go!" Dad called from the kitchen.
"Ohhh, I wonder where Dad is taking me this time," I thought.
I turned the corner to see Mom and Dad packing up a cooler, some bags and some other human goodies. No, not another long car ride.
"Arfff! Arfff!", me loves to run.
After an hour in the car we got to a big house in the middle of nowhere. All I could see were miles of green grass and my ticket to freedom. I had so much fun that day. Everyone loved me. They all said I was handsome. I ran like the wind and even tried chasing after a boat in the pool. Life was good until the next day.
Dad fed me my usual morning meal. For a long time I've been trying to tell my Dad,
I didn't like it. I would just stare at the food even though he gave me permission to take it.
"But I don't want this food! No I'm not eating this. You eat it Dad!"
"Brix you better eat that food 'cause it cost me a fortune."
So I ate it like a good doggie. 6 hours later....
I started to lick my lips incessently, gulping mass amounts of air. Mom and Dad were doing errands and I was stuck in my kennel.
"Ne, what's that on the ground?", Dad questioned.
"What? How can that be?"
Dad washed my bed that night but the next day I threw up on it again.
"What the hell Brix! I washed your bed and you vomit again!" Dad fumed.
"I'm sick and you're worried about the bed! Gee thanks for the love and support Dad." I was mad but didn't have the energy to argue with Dad.
Dad fasted me for 24 hours to rest my tummy. I continued to vomit on and off. After each vomit I was my old self again. Dad thinks it was something I ate at the party but he soon smartened up and decided to put me back on my old Wellness Core food.
After a week of not eating my regular amount of food, Mom and Dad decided I had to see the vet. He was a nice man, and I could tell Dad and Mom felt comfortable with him.
"Oh I'm not worried about him. He's definitely not a sick dog. I would say it was just a food intolerance and you are already transitioning him off the old food."
Mom and Dad were relieved. Soon after, I was back to my old self again and not vomiting. I did miss one class but it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm a star in the class! And if I did something wrong, I know it's not my fault 'cause it's always going to be Dad's fault for not teaching me. Ain't that right Dad?