Jersey the {Typical} GSD

The other day as I watched my dog wander across the road after yelling "No" 2979385794367 times, shaking the treat bag, turning on the vacuum, stomping my feet and almost doing the ugly cry in our driveway while wearing my pyjamas, I had a thought.

OK, I had a few thoughts.

But the thought I want to talk about here is this......

......Jersey the dog is too smart for me.


I mean, really.  If a scary woman was yelling at me to "come", when all I really want to do is check out the fun smells across the road, I would run the other way.

And that is what he did.
Because he wanted to.
Because he knew that there really was no way that I could stop him.

I'm pretty sure he laughed at me as he ran in the field to eat bunny shit.
Whatever.


So I went to the store looking for "Pet Containment Systems" because I just cant do the ugly cry in my driveway anymore over this animal who constantly wins. Guys, guess what?????
Every photo on every box was a German Shepherd!!!!!!!!!! FML.

I had another thought......
....Jersey the dog might just be a typical German Shepherd.

For months I have been convinced he suffered PTSD because of coccidia/a kick from a horse/cutting his paw open/a whack to the eye from a tree branch....but, nope.
He fits in with the description of the breed.

Highly active indoors
Highly active outdoors
Highly vigorous and energetic
Highly dominant to strange dogs
Moderately dominant to familiar people
Highly territorial
Low sociability with strangers
Highly protective
Brilliant



People, I need a dumb dog.
One who listens to me when I call because he wants a treat or a pat on the head.
One who is too afraid to venture out into the world because he loves me so much he would never want to leave.
One who prefers belly rubs to playing fetch 6 hours a day.

But instead, I have Jersey. 
The dog who constantly tests my sanity. The dog who is allergic to poultry.
The dog who protects my daughter from the blow dryer because he thinks it is a gun.
The dog who herds Cindy the horse into the barn.
The dog who toboggans.


I guess I will keep him, but maybe I could get a little Shih Tzu or something too.
Oh, wait, Jersey might eat it......


     

My Future Might Involve Living in the Woods without Electricity.........

It never fails.
Every year when the rush of the holiday season ends, I end up in a funk.
Funk=winter depression
This winter depression involves lack of energy and motivation, alot of munching on leftover treats and the need to sleep alot and live in my fat pants.

But then once in awhile {which isn't very often this winter}, we get a beautiful winter day and I thank God I am alive to live in it.
Because its pretty and fresh.
And Ike and Duke are big and beautiful....
...and eager to pull children around on their sleighs.




Sometimes I have to remind myself that not everyone can bring out the horses and sleigh and spend an hour or two doing something many would pay big bucks for.

Sometimes I have to remind my children how lucky they are when they complain about cleaning the barn.

But I never have to remind my hubby.


This is the life he was made for.

Actually, I am pretty sure if he could live the life that Charles Ingalls lived, he would do it in a second.

....and Jersey the dog would be right there beside him.

Cows.

I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that I might just be a country person after all.
Don't get all excited about it though, because I still hate the smells....and the mess....and the wild creatures/rodents that hang out where it is quiet.
But I do love Ike and Duke the horses.
Mostly because they let me kiss them and call them foolish love-y names.....
....but also because they eat our grass and keep some of the wildlife away.

I also enjoy cows.
I know, I know.  I have expressed my love of the Bovidae family before, but when we went to the Royal Winter Fair on the weekend, my love of the beauties was rekindled and I am convinced we need to have a few.
As pets though.
Not food.
But......
I wouldn't want a bull because they are big....have balls to the ground and look at me like they want to eat me.

Or sit on me.


But a few friendly, pretty girl cows named Mabel and Maude would make me happy.

Cows that come to me when they are called.
Cows that let me shower them with the hose, brush their "fur" and blow dry it with heavy duty blowers like they do at the fancy shmancy farm shows.
Maybe they would even let me put a few pink bows in to make them look purrty.

I am a simple person.  

Go here for more rural stuff.

This Dog

So, Jersey the dog turned 1 in August.
Actually, he turned one on August one.
And my husband bought him gifts.
True story.

I think his gift should have been us still owning him after all of the grief he has caused me, but, whatever.
He is loved.
Most of the time.

This dog loves his birthday Frisbee so much that he sleeps with it, if we let him.
I don't usually let him though, because he is very protective of it, and if a human goes near it when he has it, they might lose their fingers. Let me rephrase that. If I go near it when he has it, I come close to losing my fingers.
Hmph.

This dog eats flies.
And ants.
And any other moving bug.

This dog loves belly rubs.
Kisses and hugs from children.
And he loves chasing cats.
Speaking of cats.........two of our babies have disappeared. I am too distraught to talk about it, so lets move on, shall we?

This dog has big ears.
Large paws.
A long bushy tail.
And the longest tongue I have ever seen.

This dog loves to greet the construction workers on our road.
Except the construction workers are afraid of him and run back to their trucks when they see him coming. One day I might videotape it.
This dog is 1 year old. Full of energy. Happy. And loved.   Linking up with Tuesday Muse Sweet Shot Tuesday Wordful Wednesday and Rurality.

A Jersey Update Because I Know You Are Curious

Jersey is almost 9 months old.
It feels like we have had him for 7.75 years, but who is counting?!
Hmph.

I feel the need to give you an update on our life with the biggest test of my life.
I would take a colicky baby over this beast any day, but that is kinda mean to say, so lets pretend I didn't say it.

Since the corgi attack {which I also like to call "The day that brought about my PTSD"}, Jersey the dog has been in hardcore boot camp with the Drill Sergeant who is an expert in canine behaviour.
He has come so far.
And we have learned so much.


He is a reactive dog. Basically he overreacts to certain stimuli.
Certain stimuli=anything that moves.
He has a dominant personality.
Let me correct that. He tries to establish his role amongst the pack and does not just sit and roll over when around other dogs.
He has high prey drive.
Basically, he wants to lunge at anything that moves. Not necessarily to hurt it.......unless it is a corgi.
ohmyeffinggawwwwwd
This is Jersey when glaring at his prey just in case you wanted to see.

You're welcome.

Jersey the dog is brilliant, which is part of the problem.
I have only dealt with dumb dogs in my lifetime, so trying to train a dog who could quite possibly be smarter than me, is tiring.
He is also much stronger than me which makes it difficult to keep control when he is losing his mind over a moving broom.
Or vacuum.
Or rake.

Hold me.

Jersey the dog is handsome.
I never thought a dog could be anything but cute, but Jersey, well, he is just so frickin handsome that I find myself admiring his perfect German Shepherd features constantly.
Weird?
Don't answer that.


Jersey the dog enjoys digging.
And eating Barbies.
And stuffed animals.
And Little People.
And Nerf bullets.
And my shoes.


He is protective.
Wherever the girl child is, Jersey is right there beside her.

Usually eating her toys.....but that's better than eating her, so I am OK with it.

We are getting there.
When will I be happy?
When he can sit at my feet in a room full of people who have calm dogs sitting at their feet, without trying to eat them.
When I can vacuum without him showing his teeth at it.
When he is neutered.
When my PTSD is gone.
Peace out.

See Jersey Run

Look.

Oh, look.

Look, look
Oh, oh

Jersey, the dog

See Jersey run

Oh, look
See Jersey, the dog run

Funny Jersey

Watch funny Jersey run really fast

To fetch the ball
Over and over and over again

Good dog.

A Letter to Jersey the dog

Dear Jersey
Due to the recent event that we like to call "The Corgi Attack", we have taken extreme measures to get you trained properly.
Obviously the previous training facility had no idea how to teach {smart, protective, dominant} you, so we have found someone else.
The Drill Sergeant.

That's not her real name of course, but she knows her stuff and, well,{kinda} scares you because she doesnt put up with your dominant behaviour, which is good.........
....because then you listen, and learn....and hopefully stop attacking corgis.

Hmph.


No, that is not a muzzle. It is called a "halti" or something like that.