Dog Story Call Out

June Cotner has a call out for Funny Dog Stories. Pay is minimal.

I love dogs and cats; truthfully, it's puppies and kittens that I love, but I am finished with pets. I don't want to be responsible. Over the years, I've owned four dogs and two cats. My female dogs were smart and well behaved. I could speak to them in a normal tone and they understood. The male dogs didn't understand no matter how loud I yelled. They were thick ... in the neck, in stature, but mostly in the head. Willy was a large part hound, part Mackenzie River Husky (allegedly mixed with wolf). He was an overgrown oaf, a wild juvenile delinquent who roamed the tiny rural town of Delta Junction at the end of the Alaska Highway. He was forever getting into trouble. Imagine your dog snatching a neighbor's size 40DD bra off a clothesline and ripping it up. I buried it in the bottom of the trash barrel and watched my neighbor's husband torch the trash on the weekend. I still feel guilty. A story about GOOFY WILLY is forthcoming in a book next year.

Rocky was a little long-haired black and white Heniz 57, with ADHD. He had little man syndrome; he thought he was the size of a Great Dane. He'd take on any German Shepherd who passed the house, and he would chase flies or his tail for hours on the patio. The vet warned me. Did I listen? No!

Dusty and Buffy were smart little girls. Buffy brought Willy home most of the time at the end of the day, and Dusty, well she was my baby before I had babies. When I was a newlywed, I loved her more than I ever loved anyone or thing. Nothing more soothing than snuggling with a fluff ball.