Bigdogmonty

[Just RY]

It would appear that one of the moderators of this fine forum, goes by the name "Bigdogmonty"

Now then, it would seem that either, my big dog, who is called Monty has learned to type and moderate a forum, or there is an imposter of some description in our midst ;). Or perhaps, there is a parallel universe with another big dog Monty around

Thought y'all would like to see a picture of MY big dog, Monty. :)

http://www.urzz.com/images/monty2.jpg
Monty

Monty will be 9 on New Year's eve, and has two sisters (another goldie called "Fergie" and a cat called "Bailey's" or "Miss B" for short), and 2 brothers (cats called "Boddington" and "Friday".

[Royal Rother]

A fine looking beastie if I may say so RY!

[Harriet]

Well, my dog's not called Monty, but I thought I'd post piccie of him here anyway for people to see....

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v119/harriet992/DSCF0284.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v119/harriet992/03102656.jpg

He's called Robbie, and is 5 years old. We got him from a Boxer Welfare Organisation, as his previous owners were moving to Spain and couldn't take him with them.

[My Friend Jack]

Is that a stack of LPs next to the copper kettle, Harriet?

[Harriet]

It is indeed.

[Bigdogmonty]

Well well, there seem to be some pretty small dogs about.
Here is a picture of THE Bigdogmonty, our much loved Irish Wolfhound, who weighed 100 kilos, and was 7ft from head to tail. Sadly he is no longer with us, and has gone up to BigdogHeaven.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v119/harriet992/BigDogMonty.jpg

[Royal Rother]

Blimey! That's a dog and a half. (At least!)

[Just RY]

Wow, he's a monster BDM. Sorry that he is no longer with you.

I actually once picked up a book solely on the fact that the back cover referred to a "Golden Retriever called Monty". It was a kind of detective novel about a private eye or something who with her Golden Retriver, Monty, saved the world, or caught the murderer or something. As you may gather, it didn't leave much of an impression on me! :)

Here's Fergie.........

http://www.urzz.com/images/fergie.jpg

[My Friend Jack]

Why is that dog wearing my hat? :D

[Harriet]

Now, how did you get the hat to stay on his head? I have tried many a time to get a hat to stay on Robbie's head, but he just shakes it off........

[Opal]

It's the kind of hat it is. It's a magic hat - once anything "URZ" related gets put on something it won't come off. Why else would anyone want to wear a hat (or anything else for that matter) with URZ written on it...? :p

[Just RY]

It's actually a rule in my house - if you want feeding, you wear the hat. ;)

......and here's Friday..... (suitably attired)


http://www.urzz.com/images/friday2.jpg

Go here (http://www.bookgrouponline.com/forum/showthread.html?t=454), if you would like to know who Friday was named after.

Oh, and it's not a magic hat, that belongs to Steve Coppell :) ;)

[Opal]

What can I say, I'm just not a fan of the hat! :p

Although there do seem to be a disturbingly large number of you out there with hats, stickers, irritating little mini-kits in the back of cars....

And you know if it is a magic hat, you might actually get to move up a division this year! :D

[Bigdogmonty]

Life after THE Bigdogmonty

Dear fellow Dogs, Dog Lovers, and Book Lovers. I am a literate Otterhound and my name is Alfie. I had no say in the matter, but if it had been left up to me, I would have called myself “Hunter Jim” or “The Nose”. They tell me I’m five and a half years old, and I must say I feel that’s about right – in my prime, right! I was born in Devon, and when I left my birthplace with my new owner, I went to Hampshire for a couple of years. I was in a town, which didn’t suit me at all, so I was really naughty in my youth – no wildlife to sniff or sight. I used to slink off when I could to hunt down golf balls on the local golf course. The Hampshire Constabulary didn’t view my hunting skills with approval, and I was severely reprimanded many times.

After a couple of years I was too much for my owner to cope with, and I was sent home to Mother in Devon to be with my past friends and relations. But I did long for another home of my own. Then the day came when I was looked over by a couple from Cornwall who had just finished two years of mourning, after losing their previous hound, THE Bigdogmonty I heard them say HE weighed 100 kilos. Well I only weigh 58 kilos, but I make up for it because I have the handsomest golden face and long golden ears. And I’m very well bred – I’m a Borovin you know!! They took me for a walk with my sister, and I could hear them trying to decide which of us was to be theirs. They said they would be back in a week – Oh, the agony of waiting to find out if I had been chosen.

Wow, they chose me, so I hopped into their car as quick as you please, wagging my tail furiously and trying to give a good impression. We travelled out of Devon and into Cornwall where the countryside was still all green with lots of trees, so I thought this was a good sign. Finally we drove up a long track onto the top of Bodmin Moor. Not another house in sight and views all around. I thought this must be Otterhound Heaven. I got out of the car and was immediately confronted by two large animals that I now know are horses – a bit frightening really. And then I went on the prowl looking over my new place – plenty of sniffing to be done here. I couldn’t understand what all the posts and wires were until I went under one and it touched my back. Crike! It was an electric fence and it scared the life out of me. Have you ever had an electric shock on your arse? It’s definitely an experience to be avoided! Apparently these horses have to be kept in their place with these fences so they don’t eat the flowers. One of them also has a tendency to chew cars. What a disgusting habit.

My first walks were across fields in which large four legged animals grazed. I now know them as cows. Fancy eating nothing but grass and walking about on your food all day, but they don’t seem to care, just like horses. I was kept on the lead for the first few times to see how I behaved, so behave I did. But I could sniff that rabbits and foxes were about on this land, which made me rather excited. Soon I was let off on my own and was taught to come back to the whistle, but it was really annoying to have to give up on a sniff just as I got into it. I didn’t know how long I was going to be able to do this - I mean, when the adrenalin is pumping it takes fiendish willpower to call off the chase.

The next week I was taken up to a forestry plantation and let free to roam. The first few times I reconnoitred the place and got airborne sniffs of both fox and deer. But of course the time came when I couldn’t control myself anymore and I was off through the trees on a hunt, baying my heart out to impress both human and wildlife. I must have sounded magnificent, as I’ve got a very loud voice. The sniffs were such that I couldn’t make up my mind whether to follow deer or fox. An hour or so went by, and I had no idea where my master had got to, so I got my homing sniff on, and backtracked to where he was. He didn’t look too pleased about my adventure, but still gave me a warm welcome.

Another walk I have is down a valley alongside a small river. I couldn’t believe the sniff I got the first time I was taken there. Otter no less – you better believe it! I didn’t think there were any left except in captivity. There are also foxes down that way, a big dog fox in particular. Well, again I behaved myself the first few times on this walk and was whistle obedient. But the hunting adrenalin frequently gets the upper hand down this valley and I can spend a couple of hours having a rush-about. I used to hear the whistle, but when the sniffs are strong I tend to put all my energies into my nose work, and my hearing faculties become impervious to sound. Whistle away Boyo, I go as deaf as a post. The great thing about this walk is that I am permitted to do this. My Master’s best friend lives at the top of the valley, so when he sees me at full bay he just wanders back to his friend’s house for human chat and coffee. And when I’m good and ready I wander back up there too. So that’s good i’nit.

Bogs and muddy little streams – well that’s another of my weaknesses. There’s one close at hand too. And do I get in a right old mess when I’m in and about this little number. It took me sometime to find my way through all these dreadful fences they put about the place to keep the cows captive, but now I’ve worked it all out. When out this way on a walk I always look longingly at the bog with its dense overhanging trees and Master usually keeps me in check. But he can see how I long for another Bog Rush, so every now and then he lets me off and says “Off you go now”. What bliss, what utter bliss. He goes off back home and leaves me to it, so I sniff and hunt for a couple of hours, and then back home on my own for a good shampoo and rinse with Mistress.

I always go out with the Master or Mistress when they take the car somewhere. They open the rear window for me to put out my head and sample the breeze and pick up any airborne sniffs as we travel along. I don’t find towns particularly interesting with so many humans shuffling about, and with the car exhaust fumes polluting the air, deep sniffing is not advisable.

I am very happy here, and have developed the strongest tail wagging muscle in the world. It seems to keep wagging back and forth all day long, and perhaps I even wag it when I’m asleep.

Greetings fellow Otterhounds the world over, and don’t forget that “A good sniff a day keeps the vet away”

Love from Alfie.

P.S. I woke this morning to a still, warm and sunny autumn day. Master took me up to Tolborough Tor on the moor and said the magic words “Off you go now”. So I spent a couple of hours sniffing up a fox amongst the long moor grass. Then I went into homing mode back to where Master was sitting on a granite wall reading his book waiting for me. A magical morning!

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v119/harriet992/newyear2005e-mail.jpg

[Harriet]

I am very happy here, and have developed the strongest tale wagging muscle in the world. It seems to keep wagging back and forth all day long, and perhaps I even wag it when I’m asleep.


It HURTS when his tail whacks your leg repeatedly, and Robbie doesn't look too happy when he's being attacked by a wagging tail. But nothing seems top stop him wagging that tail!

[Just RY]

Brilliant BDM! :)

[Bigdogmonty]

Who nicked Robbie's tail when he was a puppy, poor chap's got nothing to wag.

[Harriet]

Hmmmm well at least I won't be crippled by the time I'm 16 like I would be if I lived with Alfie ;)

[lovable_vurgle]

My dog’s not called Monty and she’s not that big either but I wanted her to be involved in this somehow because she’s family! Her name is grace and she came to us from Portugal. Not directly from Portugal but that’s her origin. I don’t know how big she is. I asked my mother and she just stared at the dog and said “aaaww babsey, how big are you?” I think she’s starting to look like her actually. Although no tail popping out of her backside, well not yet anyway. Who knows what tomorrow brings! I am writing on behalf of my dog because unfortunately she is unable to reach the keyboard. She’s telling me what to put and I’m typing it, it’s very hard as you can imagine translating dog Portuguese to dog English to human English, wish me luck. I reckon I should start writing in first person/dog now.

Ladies and gentlemen, bitches and dogs. I am grace, the mighty grace. I’m a gorgeous hound with big brown eyes and an ickle wet nose. I also have a beard which doesn’t really fit in with my dashing good looks but ,I think you’ll agree, I wouldn’t be me without it.

I live in this big house in a town on the south coast. I have a surrogate mother who takes me for walks and gives me food, she’s got her other pets as well which make up my brothers and sisters. There’s Monkeybum who I’ve never really taken a shine to, lets just say me and him don’t really see eye to eye. There’s Monkeyfish, she’s ok as sisters go. I remember she went through a period of hating me. But now we get on ok we’re probably the two who look most alike. There’s Alsun-phish, she’s my favourite sister, and she’s got wonderful poodle hair and beautiful green eyes. There’s Dinopaulo he’s a bit strange and has an obsession with smelling of dirt and stinky things. Not that I’m complaining, I don’t mind a roll in it myself. There are 2 more creatures which live with us. One I know is a cat who is rather anti-sociable and has smelly fishy breath, the other I am not to sure of. He’s probably one of the biggest creatures I have ever seen, with a beard (just like me). He’s got hardly any hair though, which is very strange. And it looks as if it’s turning into a different colour every time I see him, it keeps getting lighter.

Anyway I live in this home and am very happy. I do nothing all day and sleep all night. Of course I always keep one eye open for burglars and felines. My favourite thing to do is to roll in dead things. I come home smelling all fresh and like nature, then what does my mummy go and do, she cleans me! Dogs around the world stay away from water! I hope my little paragraph has been of some entertainment for you. If not then blame Alsun-phish! :eek: :D

[Harriet]

I asked my mother and she just stared at the dog and said “aaaww babsey, how big are you?”


Oh no......looks like our parents have another thing in common....I mean really. Baby talk to dogs? My mother's more into the whole '*squeal* oooo woobie who's a googeous boi???'

(They're not typos, it's how she pronounces it....)

[nospacesallowed]

It was more like 'Ohhhhhh Wobbie, oo's a siwwy doggy'