Dog definitions
May 24th 2009 06:15
My human's a nice enough fella but his language skills are a bit of a laugh. For one thing, he gets the meaning of things all muddled up. For example, you should see what he calls a run!
So, just to help out, and for the sake of a bit of efficient communication around here, I thought I'd make the following list of terms and phrases that the two-legged guy regularly gets wrong.
In each case, I've given the Man's definition, followed by the Greyhound's definition. Just to ensure you're following me, the definitions preceded by G are the correct ones.
M: Man, master of the universe
G: Man, provider of dinner
M: Greyhound, world's gentlest pet
G: Greyhound, master of the universe
M: Slow walk
G: I'm cold
M: Walk
G: Are we moving yet?
M: Power walk
G: Perceptible movement
M: Jog
G: This is almost worth getting off the sofa for
M: Run
G: Fun
M: Sprint
G: Fool! Let me off this damn lead and I'll show you what sprint means
M: Thinking pace — blog content idea generation
G: Thinking pace — how long until dinner?
M: Exercise regime
G: Born to run
M: New running shoes
D: New chew toy
M: Scenery
D: Sniffery
M: Other dogs — smile
D: Other dogs — Whine, yap, touch nose, sniff front, sniff rear, sniff under, wag
M: Other humans — smile
D: Other humans — Not there, you two-pawed oaf. Just behind the ears ... ahhh, that's it
image: www.dogguide.net
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Comment by Roux
Comment by Chris Champion
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Daisy here. Great to see you. Give Janice a lick for us.
Now look, while you're here, as a girl, there's one thing I always wanted to ask a poodle. Oh, you'll probably think it's a silly question - you won't? Okay good, here it is: do you think a greyhound would look good in curls? I've always wanted to try curls ...
Comment by Roux
Comment by Heidi/Clyde
What are you thinking, you are a Greyhound, a sleek, elegant, glamorous Greyhound. We Greyhounds offer our services to models to highlight their elegant looks. We are sought after by aristocrats and rock stars, people stop us in the street to admire our perfection of form. Dear Daisy, don't even think of spoiling your perfection with Poodle curls, Poodle curls are for Poodles, all very nice in their own way but they haven't got the class we Greyhounds have.
Your friend Heidi.
Comment by Roux
Don't you realize that the Standard Poodle, that would be me, is one of the most sought after run way dogs in thworld? Yes the Greyhound adds elegance to a model walking in a fashion show, but the Standard Poodle, me again, adds Class & Eleglance and that certain jen sez un qua, that can only come from the French in us.
Roux 'b Doux
But I still love Greyhounds, and always will.
Comment by Chris Champion
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Heidi dear, lovely words, thank you too. It's just that perfection is one thing and sophistication is another. I adore watching poodles walk down a street.
Comment by Chris Champion
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Poodles have oodles
In hounds it abounds
(I made that up all by myself!)
Comment by Heidi/Clyde
She's Scratchy's Glassy.
Heidi my mate
Looks bonza, First rate,
And Roux, all curly
Sounds Tops, real girly.
But me? Clyde ther bush coot?
I looks like a chewed boot,
All ribs and prick,
With a head like a brick.
If class is ther answer,
then I'd come a gutser!
Comment by Roux
I feel right at home,
so I'm willing to write
how I think your all bright
and full of greyt light.
Poodles are classy, they have a great chassy,
Ever groomed to the nines, they're sniffing fools all the time, but they never let the chassy get less classy.
But Greyhounds, have legs that are long and lanky,
when you see them run get a hanky,
for the joy they emote just isn't a joke.
They run for the freedom, the joy and the prize,
of the people's surprise and awe at the smile they have.
Running's the thing that makes them just sing and their people just smile and dote at the joke.
For Greyhounds, big goofs with humor who boast their great speed and their love of a nap, just look where they're at, the couch meant for man is theirs to demand, for lazy is a term best used for the speed demon who runs when he wants and claims his rewards on the couch that were earned by his title,
the 45 mile per hour couch potato.
Mom tried to teach me to rhyme but I didn't want to do it, I tried but this was all I could do, I don't write poetry only poodletry.
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'Twas luverlee.
Comment by Queenie
Quirky Folk
Quirky Queenie
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