Discussion in 'Isaan Homes/Gardens and Land D.I.Y.' started by gotlost, Jul 2, 2020.
Should Bruno be let out into the garden.
NO! Absolutely not!!!
He has been told no, and threatened with razor wire!
Doesn't he understand who is the Boss? (Not talking to SWMBO this time, just Nomad the "little boss").
He's probably just going to poop in the garden anyway, and we all know what that leads to...fertilizer and more garden. Disgusting!
It's not just the poop, it is all the holes he digs, some as if he is escaping to Australia. He must be banned!
Let's start the Free Bruno Liberation Movement, and if we play it well we can be subsidised by some governments and a lot of philantropic organisations !!!! All donations will be well taken care of !!! HIPS ...
Two obvious potential solutions:--
2) OWNER TRAINING
Maybe discount if combine the two.
Not sure what to do about the dogs
Easy-peasy. Particularly required for waterfowl hunting breeds.
Owner training is essential.
555! Clearly you have never met the 2 brothers, Bruno and Tare (@Merlin's dog). Bruno is a black Labrador while Tare is a golden Labrador. Bruno is the more streamlined of the two, while Tare clearly packs a weight advantage. So while there may be some minor physical differences, both share the same psychological makeup, they are very strong, independent and do what they want to do. At times, Bruno is like putty in my hands and obeys me explicitly, especially when there are tidbits on offer. At other times he totally ignores me and does what he wants to do. My wife wants to grow vegetables on one half of the front garden, I want to build an air-conditioned log cabin/workshop on the other half. Both dogs will be most welcomed in the cabin. However, there is no place for Bruno in the garden and he will have to run off his excess energy down the lane at the end of our soi. At 72 years of age, owner training is impossible and a non-starter.
Regardless of current age, I somehow doubt that owner training with regard to certain matters was ever possible.
More 666 than 555, Nomad!
Tare is my seventh labrador, all but one of those arriving as pups. Never, never, never has there been anything other than the normal Lab puppies problem of chewing, always overcome by their second birthdays by which time they had each settled into perfect behaviour, that is until Tare came on the scene. His "breeder" is now as convinced as I am that Tare is either chronically retarded, or is the devil incarnate. He enjoys being fussed, and will usually come for tidbits, but not if he's being distracted by any two or four legged arrivals at the gate (or their later departure). He understands commands as he will obey them when it suits him, but he's otherwise deaf to any cajolling.
As Nomad has suggested, he's the larger brother and though he understands "down", and "get down!!!" at varying volumes, when t takes his fancy he will stand at least 6' tall on his hind legs, the better to break dance or to consider eating you. At 2 1/2 years old, he will taste, chew and destroy anything that appeals to him, whether edible or not, and hours of training have produced virtually zero improvements. However.... there's training, and there is THAI training. If only I could train the family how to train a dog, there might be better results. When every canine misdemeanour is forgiven inside 5 minutes with a treat from them, the dog is understandably convinced that they WANT him to destroy things and to disobey their commands so that they can give him some more. (Please don't mistake humour there for fact!)
Castration is an option, but the vet has admitted that while it can sometimes be a cure for raging hormones, it does little to cure human idiocy.
My intelligent morons decided to teach three puppies to sit on chairs at the dining room table, put their paws on the table and eat food off plates.
"Aww they're sooo cute , Daddy."
I shan't say how many times I explicitly explained this is wrong and do not teach the pups bad manners that will undeniably cause them problems in the future.
WTF did I know. After a few months I was fed up with my repetitive warning.
You know the rest of the story.
I eat meals with three dogs at the dining room table while the kids eat out of bowls on the kitchen floor.
Perhaps conversation at the dinner table is now more enlightening than it once was.
Particularly when one has a bone to pick.
Separate names with a comma.