A Sheepdog Named Buddy - and His Dish

I recently wrote about my pets, past and present.  Doing so, I was reminded of the antics of the Old English Sheepdog we had when I was growing up.

A dog with two names

His name was Buddy.  Well, actually he was registered as "Somebody's Bluebeard," but we only ever called him Buddy.  His bloodlines were pure, but hip dysplasia was prominent in his genes.  I am a little foggy on the details, but he became ours on several conditions. My parents had to agree that: 

• we would give him a good home
• never sell him or allow him to sire a litter
• never neuter him.  

Strange and potentially difficult requirements - but true.  We honored the agreement. 

My Mom and Buddy

My parents probably lived to regret the "never neuter" clause. If any dog needed his hormones to be calmed a notch, it was Buddy.  But - that's another story!

Our dogs lived on a large fenced area of our property in a beautiful big doghouse my dad built for them. We fed them heartily out of big metal dishes.  Almost as soon as Buddy came to live with us, he developed two habits which we could never break.  I remember them well, because they had a direct affect on me.

A Dog Who Liked to Play Tag 

Buddy would finish eating, then immediately pick up his metal dish and run away with it.  It was often my job to feed the dogs and bring their dishes inside, so they would be ready to be filled for the next meal.  A game of chase would ensue, which was exactly what Buddy hoped for. I would rarely be the winner.  

I would try playing with our other dog and pretend to be indifferent, with the hope that Buddy would drop the dish where I could snatch it. Sometimes this would work.  Sometimes it was just too cold out to wait for that to happen.  I would go back inside, knowing the dish would have to be collected before I fed the dogs again.

We would be tired of this game of chase long before Buddy ever was!

Dirty Dishes

The second habit was the reason it was so important to bring the dishes indoors after the dogs finished eating. If a dish was left outside, the next thing Buddy would do was pee in it.  Yes - he urinated regularly in his own food dish!  Sometimes he filled our other dog's dish as well. We could not figure out why.  

I will never forget having to knock slushy, frozen urine out of the dog dishes before bringing them inside. Fortunately, we had a sink in our mud room where I could scrub them with hot and soapy water, prior to filling them again with dog food.

Our Buddy Dog - just as I remember him! A black nose buried in a mass of fur!

My family and I loved Buddy, and so did our other dog.  He was a pet with numerous good qualities - and a few really strange quirks!

Have you ever heard of a dog doing something like this?

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