Welcome to The Boxer Dog Stories

Specs Dogs is a collection of boxer dog stories told from the eyes of Brix, the boxer dog. He is also known as the B-Stud. From these boxer stories, we learn of the joys and pains of puppy-hood to adult life. Along the way, boxer dog and owner learn to strengthen their human to canine bond thru training, playing and just being plain silly. Enjoy!

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Send us your dog stories: leungjcp@gmail.com

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Pet Fest

B-Stud is back writing again.  I've been watching the olympics with Dad every night.  I wonder if they have a dog olympics?  I think they should.  I could win at something, world's smelliest farts maybe?  Sometimes Dad scares me.  "SCORES!!!!!!!! Take that...in your face!!!!!!! Go Canada!"  But I laughed at him when my Americans won 5-3.  "Arrrrfffff, in your face Dad!"

We went to Pet Fest a while back.  My sister Min Pin Shy came a long for the ride.  She behaved well for someone who doesn't get out of the house much.  She even got her nails done.  Me on the other hand....well, you know me, less than upper class let's just say.

I think I scared off a sheltie, she totally did a back flip and probably started crying when I tried to talk to her.  She was hot too.  Maybe she saw how rotten my teeth were?  I don't know.  Then I tried to talk to a Rottie and he snapped at me so I growled.  I saw a golden playing with his master and I tried to jump into the action with them. 

"Hey Goldie, let's play!."
"Bounce loser.  Boxer's not allowed."
"Didn't like you anyway Goldie. Snob"

Then I tried mixing in with the great Danes.

"How you doing black beauty?  What's your name what's your sign?"
"Piss off little man."
"How bout you pretty white thang?  Can I roll with you?"
"Sorry, I don't date Boxers."

Geez, am I socially inept?  So I figured I'd talk to my own kind, other boxers.  For sure they would understand me.

"Yo, what's up my boxer brother, from a different mother!"
"Do I know you?"
"Hell yeah, I'm the B-Stud!  I see some fine bitches today you know what I'm saying?"
"Who?  You're a...bastard?"
"No I'm the B-Stud!  You heard?"
"Thankfully for me, no I haven't heard and why do you talk like that?"
"Talk like what?"
"Like, you know, Snoop Dogg or seomthing?. Anyway, I think I hear my master calling."

The only canines I talked to the whole day were the small, little toy ones.  They didn't mind me talking to them.  At the end of the day, Dad let me in on a secret while driving home.

"You know why you can't get a long with others?"
"I get a long with others fine. What chu talkin bout?"
"Ya if you think growling is having a conversation."
"Fine, why? I've been to socialization and daycare classes."
"You stare!  You stare like everyone you see is naked.  And ur tongue hangs out."
"No I don't"
"Dogs that are about your size are at the same eye level as you.  So you stare and you become a statue.  You stiffen up."
"So, they don't know what the heck you're doing, or what you're up to.  The little ones don't have a problem with you because you have to lower your head causing you gaze to go down."
"And, that's why when I say FOCUS, or DOWN, I'm trying to break your gaze or get you to calm down."

Dad had a point, but...but.....then Dad broke my train of thought.

"Brix, it's like if I were at a party full of guests...and at that party there was a salad bar   I like salad so I go get some brocolli 'cause it's my favourite, and I start to double dip.  And then I start to chat with the wife of one of our guest, with green brocolli all up in my teeth.  That's not even the worst part.  And then all of a sudden I start trying to dance with her by putting my arms around her, and then somehow my hand touched her bum bum, and then she starts to scream and yell, causing her husband to come and beat the living crap out of me...."

"I dno't get it."

"You got rough social skills boy!  That's what I'm trying to say!"
"So it's your fault, 'cause you didn't teach me?"
"Ughhhh boy, you're so difficult." 

I still win!



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