Pajiba

I haven't even gotten past the first link because I'm still laughing so hard at the "I made food--I'm magical!" bit. For my cats, barfing is a traumatizing, shameful experience that usually involves running all over the house as though they could escape what is happening inside their own bodies, leaving trails of barf that everyone else tries frantically to bury.

Moving was interesting since everyone reacted differently. Max would be thrilled if we moved every week. Reggie's body language suggested he loved the new place even as he growled and spat at me for a solid month. Oty went into a coma and refused to acknowledge what was happening; when I carried him around to show that it was really all OK, he buried his head in my arms. Two days later he was fine. Prior to the move he was a coward, afraid of everyone who came to the door; after the move, nothing fazed him. In fact I frequently had to lock him up when plumbers or electricians came to repair stuff because he'd get in the way. It was like moving was the worst thing he could envision happening to him, and now that he had experienced it and survived, HE WAS INVINCIBLE.

Not a dog story, but I had a cat that freaked out whenever we turned our ceiling fan on. I think he was afraid it would swoop down like a giant bird of prey and carry him off. Sounds kind of sad now but it was funny watching him slink around the edge of the room, carefully watching the big mean fan in case it flew off the ceiling.

First off. I love Allie Brosh (and you too, Jeremy)!

As far as canine freak-outs, my dog Boo is the freak out queen. She's an 80lb. white German shepard and is terrified of cardboard boxes. Not huge fridge-sized boxes, mind you, but any size box. We are able to keep her out of any room by simply placing a shoe box (literally) in front of the door (she's able to open doors, so the irrational fear of cardboard isn't necessarily a bad thing. We just have to hope that if someone tries to rob our home that they bring garbage bags to collect the loot instead of boxes.)

She's also developed a very antagonistic relationship with our Glade air freshener (the one that releases its fragrance every 30 minutes). Every half hour, we're treated to the following exchange:

Glade: "Pssst!"
Boo: "Bark! Bark! Bark!"
Us: "Shut up, Boo!"
Boo: "Mwrrroooorrrwww" (low pitched grumble - she's always got to have the last word.)

Thanks for the excuse to procrastinate!

My dog Angus (who was kind of retarded because he was inbred) would FREAK OUT whenever I'd pull out the camera and try to take a photo of him. I think it may have been the moving lens or SOMETHING because he'd turn his head away and then just run the hell to the backyard and hide. It was so weird and hilarious, and so I have almost no head-on photos of him at all.

His dad (and uncle!) Oreo would start howling when my dad played opera music. It was pretty hilarious.

While formulaic, Get Him to the Greek was still funny in my book.

My dog is old and sleeps all day now, but when he was younger, if he noticed you were packing for anything, he'd lose his tiny, tiny mind. I was packing for my first year of college, and I walked back into the bedroom to see my mini-Dachshund nestled in my open suitcase. It pretty much broke my heart, but also made me laugh.

When we adopted MollyBall she was ridiculously insecure about everything. If I touched any sort of long object she would run to the furthest corner of the house and cower. Shovel, broom, rolling pin, the cardboard tube from Christmas wrapping paper; it didn't matter. In the almost two years since we've had her she's a completely different dog. Still a bit skittish but now the only thing that causes her to run in terror is the vacuum and even that is going away.

The funniest thing though was her fear of the large, wheeled garbage cans that the city picks up curbside. She absolutely refused to walk within twenty feet of one. This cause detours into the middle of busy streets to be able take her on her walk. To help her (and us) get over it, we wheeled ours into the street and spent hours walking back and forth a little closer each time. I'm positive our neighbors thought we were insane. They're right.

That Hyperbole blog is pretty much the funniest thing I've read ever.

My dog Bagel is a meatloaf. He's useless as a guard dog and spends 99% of the day on his bed. Nothing fazes him, unless you decide to hang a flag off the front porch. Then he goes batshit insane. He'll bark at the front window for HOURS and slink around the house like it's going to kill him and he needs to find a place to hide. From a flag.

Katy Perry’s management team is starting to get worried that her boobs might be too big

I hate everyone. Especially all of everyone.

I think my dogs might win this one. They're terrified of wind chimes. They're not even my wind chimes. They're my neighbor's wind chimes. And they're super tiny. Every time we get the slightest breeze, they very quietly go "ting" and the dogs run and hide behind the rocking chairs on the porch. It's pretty pathetic, considering that all three of them (a Jack Russell, a Schipperke, and a Pit Bull) do it. There's nothing sadder than watching a Pit Bull try to make herself small enough to fit between the chair and the wall.

One of my mom's dogs is freaked out by the sound of the heater coming on. I have no idea why my mom ever turns it on, since it scares the dog and we all live in Arizona, where it is never cold enough to need to. The same dog is not scared of the vacuum cleaner but has an insane hatred of it. She has to be put outside if my mom vacuums to keep her from attacking it.

Her other dog whines in the car. Like, endlessly.

I'd freak out too if someone chased me with a cardboard Chewbacca!

Yeah, that Allie Brosh post is pretty much the funniest thing ever. I laughed til I cried, almost barfed ("Look! I made food! I'm magical!"), then laughed some more.

A while back, you linked to her post on "How to tell if your dog is retarded", right? Because that was also comedy gold.

Jeremy hon.

Please ingest some type of medication that will prevent you from typing like each of these things is going to give you a heart attack. I haven't clicked on any links in days because OHMYGOD there is a puppy and a little girl getting beat up and you had to go jump off bridge.

Relax, my porn star friend!

We have 3 dogs, but only one is scared of everything...the list includes:
The front yard
anything blowing in the wind...leaves included
The battery beeping in the smoke alarm when you need to change it
my camera...I guess she thinks it will steal her soul
wind
thunder
water in the bathtub
The list is too long.

The other two are cool and do think their vomit is magical food along with cat shit in the litter box. I think they think the cats use the litter box just for their eating pleasure. I caught them in the back hallway yesterday waiting for one of the cats to get done doing their business. I guess they were going to fight over it.

admin,

Join the club. My dog eats EVERYTHING'S shit. If I didn't flush out my Shittin' Ditch every day, she'd be tonsils deep in that, too.

Ironically enough (in relation to Allie Brosh's recent cake story) my 25 lb. beagle once ate an entire cake. Fast. Since she didn't puke any of it up, she gained 5 pounds and smelled like white icing for a month. Her fur was greasy and she couldn't move for days. It was horrendous.

The battery beeping in the smoke alarm when you need to change it

Posted by: Jules at November 19, 2010 3:07 PM

That is the number one thing my dog is scared of. There was one night where a couple of our fire alarms started to make that chirping sound. It ruined his doggy mind. He's never quite recovered since.

In fact, I think we may have 2 working fire detectors in our entire house. So, when we die in a fire, you people will know why.

It's also not just that my dog gets scared. He gets terrified. He pants heavily. He paces around. If I am sleeping, he puts his front paws on the bed and just stands there. His body shakes uncontrolably. Nothing but time and the passing of whatever causes the fear will cure it. We've tried all sorts of things.

Well I don't have a dog per se but my roommate does and since he doesn't give a shit about said dog I'm the one actually taking him out at least three times a day (oh the joys of unemployment! by the way nobody needs a cleaning lady in LA? or an italian cook?) and well he was probably royally abused by the previous owner or maybe he was just born a dumb a rock scared of anything and anyone and quite frankly with a very unpleasant personality. he's an ass. and he's fat, like super fat though he doesn't eat much so I guess he's kinda of a beth ditto of dogs, without those great pipes, cause he doesn't even bark. I know he might be the ideal dog if you are 95. anyone want's to adopt him? his name is jack thought I've been trying to call him bacon. no luck so far. he doesn't even have a sense of humor.
i love him desperately.

"I mean, the dog coooouuuld get out from under the blanket, if she wanted to... she just doesn't want to... yeah, that's it..."

We love our stupid, stupid dogs.

My oldest dog has an aversion to cameras too, but it just seems to be the flash. He's a 90 lbs Collie-Doberman mix and unfortunately the Collie neuroticism prevails most of the time. You bring out a camera and he is at your side like glue. Also making the "psssst" noise at him makes him freak out. Hackles raised, running through the house barking type of deal. Flips his shit right out.

Our 6 month old lab has a thing about our Swiffer mop. I don't know. She barks at it, attacks it and generally feels offended by its presence in our home. She is unaffected by the vacuum.

I also must agree with Robert's comment that Isabella Rosellini should have slapped that dumbass interviewer.

Also: My dog freaks out when the wind blows.

Not like she's afraid. Just that she doesn't trust it. If there are leaves blowing around, say goodbye to your quiet, peaceful afternoon because she will demand to be let out several times to chase the evil blowing leaves out of the yard. If the wind is blowing without leaves she is just looking around trying to figure out who did it. One day she will figure it out and then there will be trouble. Someone will pay.

Sometimes she barks at the wind.

interesting. i posted the previous post as an experiment. i tried posting on another thread, the p* lin thread, and there was an "unforeseen problem" and pajiba staff would look into it.

luckily no problem here, talking about dogs.

just benign puppy love here.

My pup lost her ever-lovin'-mind when we moved about a month ago. If I left the house for any reason, for any length of time, she howled and barked and freaked out until I came home again. My neighbors just adore me. It's sorted now, but I still have 3 weeks of nuisance barking to make up for.

She also does that high pitched eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! thing. Luckily it's very quiet and I've wrecked most of the upper register of my hearing, so it literally falls on deaf ears, because she just will not stop.

Pup really only hates 2 things: silverware and thunderstorms. She's always hated thunderstorms but I don't know when the silverware thing happened. Suddenly she won't go anywhere near it. Put a plate of tasty things w/ a fork on the floor and she'll make big circles around it and whine, but never get close enough to actually touch the plate.

Our dog is either a fantastic watchdog, or he might just be a little nearsighted. He barks out the window every time someone comes into our yard. That's all fine, although he especially hates the postman because he comes up on the front porch to deliver the mail and we have to make sure he is inside during post delivery time each day but he also barks at us when we leave the house. Yes, family inside the house is fine, but as soon as we walk out the door and he can see us in the driveway, he barks that INTRUDER bark. At us. In our own yard. The people he just saw walking out the door. Love him to pieces.

With an [insincere] apology [and a sincere "fuck you"] to the cat haters in the audience, this will have to focus on my cats, since the only dog I ever had (Max, a German Shepard mix) wasn't afraid of fuckin' nothin', which is why he got hit by a car while I was at school one day (in the seventh grade), and I never got to say good-bye...

*sniff* (fuck off, for making me remember, dammit)

So... my cats... who are both extremely affectionate (the antithesis of what most people think of cats. I'll spot you the quarter for the clue... just like dogs, it depends on how they are raised by the associated human, Dumbass.)

Toffee ain't afraid of much, but if I say the word "fuck," she'll duck and run, but only so far anymore (thankfully), before she runs back to my feet, since she's learned that I'm just venting, and she's in no danger.
Anything else, she merely adopts the sleepy-eyed, disinterested cat-look as though to say, "Is that all you got, motherfucker?"

Sheila, on the other hand, will freak the fuck out at the slightest wrinkle of a plastic grocery bag, and will disregard her own health to run through solid matter (metal step-stool, the wall...) to get the fuck away from that sound.
If it weren't for the crash of her exit, and the former mouthful of dry food scattered across the floor, I'd think she had the ability to teleport, that's how fast she departs.

I'm soooo late to this, but that's because I've been avoiding threads and TheCommenterWhoShallNotBeNamed. Anyway.

Our dog Wallace is afraid of rolled up paper. You roll up an ad or some notebook paper and he gives you a wide berth. Do we hit him with it? Nope. He's just afraid of it.

He's also afraid to enter the bathroom if we're in there. He doesn't want to be put into the bath tub, so he'll sit just outside the bathroom door and watch you. If you call for him, Wallace will scootch back and wag his tail but refuse to come near you. As soon as you reach for toilet paper, he bolts into the living room. He's a goof.

Our cat HATES the cat carrier. It's a two-person operation getting him into the damn thing, and I swear he grows five extra paws each time.
The day we moved, he did his usual freak-out over the carrier, cried the whole way to our new house, and bolted out of the thing like it'd set his arse on fire.
Trying to limit the number of traumatic things around him, I hid the carrier in a cupboard.
An hour later, I found him sitting on the carrier, crying.
I felt like shit.
Fortunately, as soon as he worked out that a) we weren't leaving him (he was an ex-stray who chose us at the RSPCA) and b) there were now stairs he could hoon up and down during Kitty Madness, he went back to violently hating the cat carrier.

No dog stories, but one of my parents' three cats is afraid of hamsters. And he's very funny when confronted with one. He just backs away ever so slowly to the pace of the Pink Panther theme, and then, when he's within a "safe" distance, he turns tail and runs skidding on the tile floors. The other one we found on the street, abandonned when he was the size of... well a hamster. He was being nursed by a dog who had lost her puppies. He is now forever convinced he is a dog and will growl at the other two when they go near his food. Not hiss or spit, growl. And the third one who's a third the size of any of the others is basically afraid of her own tail, but comes in handy with opening doors when your hands are full. The tiny furball can jump really high.