Sometimes, for fun and enjoyment, I look in my blogger stats and find out what search keywords led people to my blog. I have come across some interesting ones, such as "dogs that look like sheep," "funny puggle stories and nicknames," etc. But hands down the most disturbing one so far has been... wait for it...
"dog peeing in mayo."
What? WHY? And in case you are lulled into some sense of security thinking that maybe this was some sort of crazy typo someone made, let me inform you that this search string led not one, but two different people to my blog.
This leads me to wonder if there is some subset of people that enjoys watching dogs pee in mayonnaise. That's actually pretty specific, and trying to watch it happen must be pretty un-fulfilling seeing as, oh, it probably hardly ever happens. I suppose it could be carefully staged to happen, but still. Why? (In case you were wondering, I am not going to draw a picture of this, because then whoever was searching for this would actually have found what they were looking for on this blog. Then everyone would come here just to look at a picture of a dog peeing in a jar, or maybe a plate, of mayonnaise.)
Anyway, on a completely related note, I have been walking every morning with my dog and a group of other people, and they all have bully breeds (one also has a particularly ornery pekingese, but that dog mostly stays out of the fray). My dog is the sole shepherd in a group of a boxer, a boxer-mastiff, and a pit bull with a head the size of one of those little school buses. This means that while the bullies are all running around jawing each other and body-slamming, HH is running around them in a circle, helpfully keeping them close together, herding them and barking in a totally-not-annoying way.
You'd think with a group like this in the park, most people would be the least scared of the fuzzy shepherd dog and maybe the most scared of the bus-head pit bull. And they are... at first.
Sadly, my dog does not make a very good first impression.
First of all, he has repeatedly gotten into burr bushes, which led me to shave him and hack out large chunks of tail hair, which then led him to look more like a mange-ridden coyote than an English Shepherd.
Secondly, my little HH has an almost manic obsession with a certain empty field behind the park, so much so, in fact, that my fellow dog walkers have named it his "Field of Dreams." I have to leash him as we walk toward it so he doesn't get there 20 minutes before I do. Then, he pulls on his leash, gagging and grunting in a pathetically valiant effort to get there as soon as possible.
Something about running through the tall grass in a specific field causes him to go into an absolute frenzy. He tears through this field with no apparent purpose, mouth snapping wildly as he rips out long blades of grass, with Bus-Head running behind him, not having a clue why this is fun but suspecting that if HH is doing it, maybe he should be, too.
And then, HH comes out of the field, drenched in dew, eyes bulging from his head, jaws open, tongue out, and mouth frothing with.... blood. Yes. Blood. While Bus-Head, Boxer, and Mastiff Mix are being cute in a giant-cranium, thuggish sort of way, my dog is frothing blood.
You might be thinking at this point that I am a horrible dog owner, but really, the Field of Dreams is to blame. The grass is quite sharp or maybe serrated even, and when HH runs through it, tearing it out as he runs, apparently this lacerates his tongue. Combined with the wet, wild-eyed, mangy coyote look, this really ties the look together in a combination that causes most people to back away from him and straight into a pile of rough-housing bullies.
Who can really blame them? Those dogs just seem safer, at this point.