Thursday 03 October, 2013 by Uncle Spike
This is the second in a mini-series all about Taz; a rather mad but loveable Staffie I had a few years back in Yorkshire, in the north of England.
The first part can be seen here if you missed it:-
In this short series of posts, I have tried to honour the old chap with a few tales of his exploits… Hope you like them 🙂
Taz and his hill… well, we only had a small cottage garden, but the cherry tree was slightly raised up by the back path, and Taz used to love nothing better than to sunbathe his pink bits when the weather was at it’s best. Seriously, he used to sit there, with back resting against the tree, legs apart, airing his bits for all to see… as the sun moved round, so did he. In the spring he had an almost pink belly; by the autumn it was a well tanned brown. There again, he was a stud dog when he was younger apparently – what a lad.
One Should Sit At The Table
Boisterous and playful as any Staffie, Taz was also pretty high in his IQ stakes, or at least we used to think so. He was also a cultured pup, for as much as he had some disgusting personal habits, lol, he also knew how to behave – he just ‘chose’ not to comply most of the time.
Like many dogs, he was trained to ‘wait’ for his food, even doing the old biscuit on each paw trick, waiting for the ‘go’ signal. But he took it one step further. When it came to treat time, such as an apple or carrot, we never usually peeled or chopped it, just let him help himself from his own supply and off he’d toddle to devour his snack.
Sometimes however, we did this a little differently – we would tie a large serviette around his neck and put a bowl of cut up fruit on the table. Taz would then jump up and sit on the chair and stare mercilessly at the bowl until we gave the ‘go’ signal. It was quite bizarre, but he would stay like that for quite a few minutes even – just poised ready.
If only my son had half the manners!