BS: In Praise of Mongrels

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: keberoxu
Date: 02 Apr 17 - 01:30 PM

Well, the link in the OP doesn't pull up that article anymore, but this thread is still good enough for ageless.
I have posted elsewhere about Mickey the Bagel Dog.
"Bagel Dog" is a hound-breed joke referring to BEAGLES. When you meet with a dog that is not one hundred per cent purebred beagle, and yet the beagle breed predominates in the dog's presentation, then you call the resulting mix a Bagel Dog.
I miss Mickey to this very day.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: keberoxu
Date: 01 Apr 17 - 05:15 PM

Yes, I'm refreshing again. This one is a delight, though.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Sorcha
Date: 25 Sep 08 - 08:08 PM

Another one, already. In Evanston, Wyoming we had an Australian Cattle Dog/blue heeler. Rowdy was the Keeper of the Neighborhood, in spades.

Our son was about 2, and Mr had gone to Texas for training and been gone about 6 weeks. He drove the company truck home from Texas and the dog didn't recognize the sound of the vehicle that pulled into the drive at 2 AM.

Rowdy went totally BALLISTIC when THAT MAN just walked into his house. Mr had also bought new boots and jeans while in Texas, so even that smell was wrong.

I came up out of the bed, and met Mr at the front door with a loaded .38 in my hand....and the dog in attack mode! I tried to speak to the dog...no joy...all tooth and fang.

When Mr could finally get a word in edgewise to the dog...Rowdy recognized his voice....oh the SHAME of not knowing Master.

Poor boy fell over, played dead, showed his belly and throat, saying Oh, just kill me NOW....here are my vitals...took the poor boy several days to get over the embarassement, but, hey, it was a Good Thing he did for us, in that place and that time!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Sorcha
Date: 25 Sep 08 - 08:02 PM

OK, I finally have one. It's not exactly about a 'dog' but a Timber Wolf mix.

I am not at all 'afraid' of wolves but I do have tremendous respect for them. Years ago in Evanston, WY I looked out the window...and there was a timber wolf in my YARD! I went outside, and said some 'name'...can't remember what but it just 'came' to me that was his name...he looked up, wagged all over, whuffed, and came to see me.

NICE fella. Turned out that a neighbor had found this guy in the forest wearing a Hunter Orange vest with one leg hooked thru the head hole...and staggering around on 3 legs. Ken opened the back of the pick up, said Load Up! And he DID!

Ken kept him about a month before the flyers he put out managed to find his owner. Turned out that he was 7/8 timber wolf and 1/8 Malmute, and I was ONE vowel off his 'real' name!

Or one letter...like Allie and Sally...can't remember for sure. But he was SO neat...I missed him for ages. So did the kids. He'd pull their sleds, play tag...He'd sneak up behind the kids, most about 6, and roll...thereby tossing them into a snow bank...wait for them to crawl out, and do it again.

Or, he'd roll in the snow, get all covered, then go 'shake' in front of somebody, covering THEM with flying snow.

He didn't even TRY to challenge any of the neighborhood dogs, was just so laid back and fun...but boy, was he STRONG! And agile. He could clear the 6' board privacy fences in a single bound.

A different neighbor called me one morning, said There is a WOLF in my back yard!!! I said, oh that is just Ken's new dog, Buddy (or what ever his name was). He won't hurt you, go hang out the laundry.

She was too terrifed to do it, so I had to hang out her laundry for her. (This is the woman whose husband had a 'pit bull'......)

I wish I could have that 'dog' back again....he was just so cool.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 25 Sep 08 - 07:33 PM

Beautiful and heart-touching stories. For some reason I thought this thread had closed. Glad it didn't.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: GUEST,leeneia
Date: 25 Sep 08 - 12:17 PM

I clicked on the blue clicky in the first post to see the article in the times.

Interesting, the contrast between the warm, fuzzy treatment of dogs in the article and the dehumanizing treatment of the model in the picture to the right, she with nothing on but two strips of wadded cloth covering nothing but her anorectic breasts.

She's there to sell something, so who cares how she feels or looks?

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 24 Sep 08 - 04:21 PM

These stories are great - but Jess had me teared up at the end there.

Many years ago, I used to visit friends who had a camp way out in a Maple Bush, and sometimes I borrowed their camp and stayed there alone. And sometimes they left their three dogs with me for companionship and because the dogs loved the camp so much.

They had three Irish Setters, one of them a comically oversized and big-nosed male, and his mom and pop, more normal sized setters. The female was very 'girly' and delicate-boned. I love dogs, and I think my own dog was tremendously pretty, but for sheer Norman Rockwell beauty, I doubt any creatures could match three red Irish Setters running through snow-bound maple trees, their colour only matched by the occasional red or yellow leaf left clinging to bare grey branches.

Those guys loved to run, and the area around the camp was a maze of abandoned wood roads. I used to hike with those guys for hours. The first time out, I was worried about losing them, but I soon found out they had no intention of losing me. They would take off and disappear ahead, once in a while one would circle back briefly and I'd hear him/her rustling around not far away, then s/he'd be off again. But whenever I arrived at a fork in the road, all three of them would be standing at ease, waiting for me to choose a direction.

One day they surprised me by completely altering their behaviour. We started up a road in the morning, stopped for sandwich, coffee and dog treats around noon, and set off again. Now, though, all three of them gathered around me and stayed well within eye range. Two would stay right by me while the third made a quick, short run ahead and off in the trees. It was well into winter, so bears weren't a concern, and I wondered what had them so worried. A little further on the puzzle was solved. The snow on the trail was criss-crossed evrywhere with fresh Moose tracks and steaming fresh droppings.

I wish I'd been brave or foolish enough to go on, because there were enough tracks to suspect not far away a lot of Moose were yarded up, and I'd like to have seen that. Prudence won the day, though, and to the obvious relief of the setters, we turned tail and walked back the way we came.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: open mike
Date: 24 Sep 08 - 01:17 PM

www.dogbreedinfo.com/designerdogs.htm

www.nytimes.com/2007/02/04/magazine/04dogs.t.html

http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2004/01/0115_040115_tvdesignerdogs.html

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: GUEST,Neil D
Date: 24 Sep 08 - 12:31 PM

I love dogs of all kinds and I love dog stories. I wish I had a good one to add, but I thank all of you for creating a wonderful thread. I hope it keeps going for a while.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 24 Sep 08 - 10:27 AM

Sounds like a wonderful selection!

My two are in the kennel this morning because with this cool fall morning they wanted to race up and down the yard, taking sharp corners, nipping, rolling each other, and racing some more. But Poppy (Catahoula) was treated for heart worms* five weeks ago and she's still under doctor's orders to stay quiet. It has been pretty well impossible to achieve quiet, but at least I slow them down when I see them do it.


*Note to self--that "economy" 20 months ago of skipping Revolution for a couple of winter months didn't work. Saving $60 wasn't worth the $900 for the treatment this year.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Mrs.Duck
Date: 24 Sep 08 - 07:11 AM

Last year I made the decision that I would like to have a dog in the family having been without for nearly ten years. I had my heart set on a chocolate labrador but they were way out of my price league (around £600 from breeders). However, while on a short term contract earlier this year, one of the children's parents arrived one day with a pup tucked inside her jacket and asked if I knew anyone who might be interested. Apparently she had gone to look at some pups herself and had been told they were Jack Russell/Lab cross these being the breeds of the family's two dogs. She chose the one she wanted and then asked when she could collect (they were then less than 5 weeks old) and the woman said she either took it then or it wouldn't be there by the end of the week as she'd 'get rid' Sensing this was no idle threat, the parent asked if they had a box and gathered up all three puppies and brought them home where her Jack Russell dog, George 'mothered' them until they were ready to go to other homes. She kept the pup she had originally chosen and found a home for another and this one was the last. I managed to convince Geoff to let me have her so a few days later she came here. We all sat round and threw names in the air until one stuck and she became 'Lottie'. It was only later that someone asked if that was because she was 'lots' of breeds but at the time we still were expecting the single cross. We have now come to the conclusion that the pet lab must have been about the only breed that didn't get a look in. Lottie is sort of Jack Russell, collie, staffordshire polar bear mix. Highly intelligent and VERY active. She can jump 4' vertically from standing and loves to please. My intention is to train her to jump ver and through things to keep her occupied and if I never manage to find another job we can always do street theatre lol. I don't regret the decision for a moment!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 23 Sep 08 - 10:19 AM

Great stories!

I hadn't heard of the Patterdale terrier. I looked it up.

We rescued a German shorthaired pointer when I was in high school who lived with mom long after all of us had gone off to college. The thinking was the dog been dumped because she was sick--distemper, bronchits, pneumonia, before she got over all of it. But she pulled through and was a great dog. We also had cats, and they all got along well. People used to slow down when they drove past the house if the dog and the main cat (a white angora from a friend's litter) were playing. They would dart around the shrubbery, clearly enjoying themselves.

When the cat died (both were quite elderly) Mom buried her in the garden outside the kitchen window and put an azelea at that spot. After that on sunny days she'd look out and see the dog sleeping on that spot.

SRS

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Jess A
Date: 23 Sep 08 - 09:40 AM

I love threads like this one, so thought I'd add my own experience of living with a much loved mongrel. This has turned out longer than I expected....

Nelly was my dog when I was 10. We got her at 6 weeks because her mother and siblings weren't being very well cared for, and first night in our house I slept in the kitchen on a camp bed with her curled up on my chest to stop her crying. Our very friendly (male) cat adopted her and they'd curl up together with him grooming her ears and her making a little noise in the back of her throat that sounded suspiciously like an attempt at purring.

She was an odd mixture – her mum looked like a short legged black and white border collie, her dad we never knew for sure but probably something with Labrador and staffy bull terrier. She had the smooth lab like hair, in chocolate brown with collie white markings, and great big ears that flapped back against her head rather than drooped down like a spaniel. She was quite small though, only knee high (to me), with quite a deep chest but fairly slim hind quarters and legs. I've never seen another dog quite like her, she didn't even look the same as her siblings.

She was bright and inquisitive – always wanted a job to do. Proably the collie in her. Took it upon herself to keep my mum & dad's 3 acres clear of birds and wildlife by chasing and barking, and would carefully escort neighbours' sheep off the property if they ever escaped over the wall. She once killed a rabbit but seemed a bit shocked by the experience – after that she'd chase them but never *quite* catch them. We had guinea pigs in a run in the garden who she viewed as her own personal responsibility. They needed bringing in at night to protect from foxes and she'd come and remind us it was time to bring them in when dusk started to fall. We wondered if she viewed them as her offspring because on the one occasion when one of them escaped she carefully tiptoed behind him keeping a careful eye until we recaptured him back into his run.

We never let her have pups, had her spayed when she was old enough. She had a phantom motherhood once though – not an actual phantom pregnancy, but she was given a small rubber alligator with a plaintive squeak and appealing eyes, and decided it was her puppy. She'd carry it round, make nests for it, try to suckle it, come running when we squeaked it, and fiercely ward off any approach from the cat. This lasted for several weeks, until eventually some overzealous grooming made a hole in its leg and the squeak stopped working. She lost interest after that but never quite regained her trust of the cat.

When I was still living at home but my sister had already left home for university, she became very excited when my sister came home for a visit, which my sister was quite touched by as she'd always really been 'my' dog rather than my sister's. On one occasion though she was so excited that she played too violently with a bone, slamming it against a stone step and breaking her jaw in two places. (Two clean breaks across the front of her lower jaw, one on each side). It was a bank holiday and while the vet examined her straight away, he couldn't open the surgery and wire her jaw together until 2 days later. In the meantime she was given pain killers and we were told to try and keep her still. Ever tried to stop a dog from licking the inside of its own mouth? The only one of us she'd listen to was my dad, who she very much viewed as her pack leader. He put her bed next to his and spent all night preventing her from licking or pawing at her mouth. When she eventually did get to the vet's, the breaks had already started to knit cleanly because she'd been so good about not moving. We had to feed her liquids for several weeks but otherwise she just healed by herself.

Every morning while I was growing up, my mum would let her up the stairs to my attic bedroom and she'd try and make me get up, but when I was (usually) too stubborn to stir, she'd jump on the bed and curl up against my legs. When I left home to go to university she had to stay behind. My mum said the first few mornings she was upset and confused by going up to my room and finding an empty bed.

She was gentle with adults and converted several dog-hating or dog-fearing adults that we knew to the realisation that not all dogs were bad. She couldn't be trusted with toddlers though, due to a bad experience when she was fairly young. A friend's toddler pursued her through the house and, once he'd cornered her, pulled her whiskers. He was apparently used to a family pet which didn't mind this! Nell bit him (not hard, no broken skin) which caused him to scream and her to cringe with guilt. Thankfully the parents of the toddler were understanding, and after that we were careful to warn people that small visitors needed supervision around her. She always growled plenty of warning and would retreat rather than attack – she'd only snap if pressed.

She lived to the grand old age of nearly 17, eventually succumbing to some kind of cancer. She gradually got slower and less enthusiastic about life until it was obvious that she was in pain and had had enough. I drove home in time for the vet to arrive, and she was given her final injection with all her family around her. She eventually died in my arms and I'm tearing up now thinking about it, even 7 years later. I still miss her enormously. I can't have a dog with my current lifestyle so just make the most of friend's dogs for now. One day I'll get another though – and when I do it'll be another mongrel!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: GUEST
Date: 23 Sep 08 - 03:48 AM

I agree that dogs bred for their working characteristics are a different kettle of fish than those bred to a "breed standard". I adopted a chocolate Patterdale terrier a few months ago, and she's a little star - bright as a button and very funny and affectionate. The only trouble is that it's the nature of the breed to focus on any small animal and give chase, so the rescue centre told me I could never let her off the lead on walks, as we live in the country and if she took off after a hare or rabbit we might never get her back again - apparently this is a major reason for terriers getting lost and going to rescue in the first place.. This is heartbreaking, as she is such a bundle of energy and is so full of life and I know how happy it would make her. The rescue centre made sure we had outdoor space for her that was appropriately secure- patterdales are diggers and will escape if given the chance.We had a good-sized back yard where she could trot about, but it was paved and, while very safe, it was not very stimulating for an inquisitive little girl.

Well, we moved at the weekend to a house with a lovely big lawned (and fully fenced) garden. Seeing her tearing around in absolute delight, huffling in the Borders and generally having a good old romp, made me so happy. It definitely compensates for those long walks on leads.

Dunno what else I wanted to say, really, except that she's brought such happiness to us in the brief time we've had her that it's lovely to see her so happy.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 09:32 PM

SRS, that is fascinating, the Catahoula info. And what a lucky pair those two dogs are.

Jeri, probably not the plant I stepped on, as it was permanently wet peat/sedge bog, but thank you, because I bet you've nailed the insect repellent. There must be some bog-loving relative of Chrysanthemum cinerariaefolium growing up there - likely doesn't even resemble it much but has the same scent. That gives me something more concrete to search for. You know how it is with a scent related old memory; there's this strong desire to track it down - or maybe I was a dog in my last life.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 05:57 PM

He made me wonder what exactly his life had been like. I know it was hard, but how hard?

I have one like that, Bruce. When she arrived here she'd been hurt, probably a glancing blow by a vehicle. She also had a bite, probably from another dog. Mutual adoption is what we did here--she'd been chased off by various neighbors for a number of weeks, and lived mostly in the prairie eating bugs and nuts and grass. She still loves all of that. She was out during some heavy thunderstorms that spring, and she hates them. Now, when it starts to rain she heads around the corner into the garage stall I built, complete with two hay-filled dog houses and a tarp over the top to keep warmth in in winter. She curls up happily and goes to sleep.

Walks at night were almost impossible at first, because if vehicles passed the lights terrified her. I think she was hit by a car at night near the bridge on a busy road across the large woodlot near us. I got her over that--during the day we walked and if a car came by, I told her to sit. Over time we walked later into the evenings, and if a vehicle passed, her response was to sit, not to strain at the leash in panic.

Her companion came from the Humane Society after hurricane Katrina, when the local dogs were moved out quickly to take in storm dogs. She is a cross between catahoula and blue heeler. She was probably a pampered puppy who grew into an annoying big puppy and her owners didn't take time with her, instead getting rid of her when she was past the little "cute" stage. She has a beautiful face, black merle coat, and is slim as a whippet, though on a larger scale, deep chested. So I have a pure breed, American Staffordshire Terrier, who terrifies some people by the name of her breed, but who is simultaneously charismatic and draws attention. The other is sweet and dopey and jealous that people don't also want to pet her as much. Together they're my back yard pack and we love going on walks, especially this time of year when they can munch on acorns and pecans to their hearts' content.

I just looked up the Louisiana catahoula. Wikipedia says "Catahoulas have been bred more for temperament and ability than for appearance. As a result, the physical characteristics of the Catahoula are somewhat varied." I think, if you're going to breed a dog intentionally, these are much better reasons. Catahoulas are working dogs. If you follow the link to "Uncle Earl's Hog Dog Trials, it says "In this particular event, dogs are judged on their containment and control of the boar and their style of baying. The better "hog dogs" bay directly at the boar's face to gain control of the boar. The sharpest voices are considered best. Two dogs compete and the one with the sharper or more shrill voice will be judged as having the better bay. If a boar runs from the the dogs, they may nip the boar to make him stop. The dog has 10 seconds to stop and contain the boar and begin baying again. A significant number of points can be lost by the dog if the boar is not contained within 10 seconds." (The site also says the dogs wear Kevlar vests and extra-wide collars to protect them from the boars).

My girl Poppy, she has the voice of an operatic soprano. She can bay like nobody's business. So we try to keep her happy, so she doesn't do it. You should have heard the ruckus at the back gate over the weekend when a pack of coyotes came visiting at about 2am. Whew!

SRS

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Jeri
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 05:05 PM

I'm enjoying this thread a great deal. It's nice to read these stories instead of the typical one or two line posts. (One of which I'm writing now.)

Bee, did you step on a Chrysantemum/Daisy or the seed head of one?

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 04:24 PM

Glad you enjoyed Mac's story, Peace. ;-)

I'll add my thanks, Michael - I love swapping dog and cat stories.

I've got one more, a bit sad because it is just an old memory, and there are old black and white photos with deckled edges in the family album back home of the dog in the story.

When I was a kid, a Labrador dog looked a lot different than what's called a Lab today. I don't know where these modern short-legged barrel shaped Labs came from, but they ain't what a Nova Scotian would have called a Lab in the fifties and sixties.

Joe was a proper Lab, almost as tall as a Newfoundland dog, with long legs and a big, but not barrel shaped, body. He belonged to one of my uncles. Around 1955, in Cape Breton, we had the biggest snowfall I remember ever seeing. It covered the cherry trees in the back yard, blocked the light from the downstairs windows on the North side of the house, and created the biggest, highest snowbanks I've ever seen. I think that was the happiest winter of Joe's life, because he dearly loved snow.

I was a little afraid of dogs then, being four years old, but I was never afraid of Joe. Whenever he visited, which was often, he stayed outside with me and my little brother. He would stay right by us, snuffling and rolling in the snow, prancing around, and sometimes he'd grap the rope handle on our sled and haul us across the yard, wagging his tail for joy.

Then my uncle moved to Florida, and a year later, my family followed. Poor Joe! We visited my uncle and aunt nearly every weekend the year we lived there, and the only place I ever saw Joe was in their garage, lying quiet on the cool cement floor, trying to escape the heat of a Tampa suburb. I used to go out and sit with him and talk to him about snow.

Florida has its charms, but the ticks and other little evil insects are not among them, so Joe always smelled of whatever my uncle was using for repelling ticks. It was an odd smell.

A few years ago, I was walking in the very wet upland bog near our present home, when my rubber boot must have crushed some plant or moss or lichen. The air filled with a sharp clean strong odour - the exact scent of Joe in his Florida garage. I almost cried, the memory of Joe was so clear and immediate.

I wasn't able to identify which plant it was, and I haven't found it since - just an occasional faint hint in the air that always makes me remember Joe, the very first dog that played with me.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 02:49 PM

Used to live down the block from Gimel, a Newfie. Big. BIG. Black. And if he'd be out walking with his mistress and he saw you across the street he'd let out some DEEP BASS barks -- and hid behind the 12 year old when you came over to say hello. Biggest chicken dog I ever met.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 01:52 PM

Loved this thread, Michael. Thank you for starting it.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Goose Gander
Date: 22 Sep 08 - 01:21 PM

Thanks, everyone, for comments and stories.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 04:36 PM

Oh, Jaysus, that had me in tears of laughter.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 04:29 PM

In the many years before I became a proper married woman, I shared houses, apartments, flats, with a wide selection of other people, a few women, but mostly platonic male friends. One of those male friends bought a house on the shore here, and I shared space with him and the occasional other tenant for several years (met my husband in that house, in fact).

My friend had the same attitude as Janie recounts; you'd think it was his own nuts in danger if you mentioned the word 'neuter' wrt any of his dogs. So he got this one dog, a smallish GS who'd been abused a little as a pup, when it was six months old. Then he got a job that kept him out of province for weeks at a time, leaving me, with no experience at all at the time, to train up this poor dog.

House training was difficult and took forever - he was still having 'accidents' years later, and while I was likely partly to blame, when I was responsible for training our own dog, she got the message in a few days, and I can't think what I did different. She was a lot younger, though.

Well, when Mac (name changed to protect the guilty) hit adolescence, he discovered bitches. Bitches in heat. Like the one across the road, whose owners were going for some purebred puppies which Mac wasn't gonna help with. He promptly invented the GSD Art of Escape.

My friend, when he'd make it home for a day or two, would build kennels. And extensions on kennels. And roofs, doors, extra boards, deep buried chain link, and so on. Made Mac no-never-mind. I would put him in his kennel when I left for work; when I came home, he'd be gone. Once I left him in the small old barn, figured he had plenty of room, not much to destroy, and couldn't get out. Came home to find he'd climbed up a ladder into the loft, broke the glass out of a 14 X 14 in. window twelve feet off the ground and jumped out. Not a mark on him.

Winter came, and by luck I got to work from home for a few months, so it was easier to keep Mac outta trouble, but he was devious in the extreme. He'd wait until I was coming in the door with my arms full of firewood and make a break for it, or a neighbour would walk in and he'd bowl them over on his way through. The attraction then was a black lab 10km. away. He could make it through the woods and across the ice in twenty minutes flat. Fortunately, the Lab's owner was a friend and felt guilty about not having his own dog spayed. Got so I'd dial him up as soon as Mac got out, say "He's on his way...", and shortly after the lab owner would drive him home.

RIP, Mac. You were a pain in the neck, but it wasn't your fault, and in spite of your down side, you were a good companion.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 02:48 PM

My real uncle--great carpenter--found a dog that had likely got lost in the woods or otherwise got separated from its owners. It had been what seemed like weeks in the woods for that dog. He was a Heinz, loved blueberries, strawberries and sour apples. That was likely what he'd been surviving on in the bush. Man, did my family and extended family ever attract strays. They'd select us in bus lineups or other kinds of crowds. (Go ask HIM! He's got a hotdog too.) Feed 'em just once . . . .

Anyway, that was a different dog. Wouldn't stay in the house but when my uncle was going anywhere he'd just jump in the car to go along for the ride. Liked sticking his nose out the window, and if my uncle was having a beer he'd pour some for the dog, too. That dog burped and ate most vegetables. He didn't understand about eating beef, but he liked fish and mice. I have puzzled over that dog for about 50 years. Watched him tear up some plants and eat the roots.

He liked to stay under the front step, and that became his space. We put a dog house there, but he'd only use it during inclement weather, and often unwillingly. He made me wonder what exactly his life had been like. I know it was hard, but how hard? He'd brace strangers who stopped, but he never growled or bared his teeth. He was just there and that seemed to be enough for folks. He didn't like being petted but he'd never get disagreeable over it. He'd just move away.

He was given to a good home once he got used to people, and we were able to visit him now and then due to proximity. The dairy farmer said he kept the pest population down and never bothered the cows. He was struck and killed on a country road. People who hit him took his body to the farmer who gave him a small grave under some berry bushes in front of his house. To this day I hope there's some sort of doggie heaven where the weather is always good, berries always available and someone to tell him to stop being daft get in out of the rain.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Wolfhound person
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 02:34 PM

My oldest mutt is a 12 year old collie-retriever. When we got her she was a psychopath - she wouldn't let family in the house, never mind strangers. When we'd had her 6 months we got her a companion, a rescue farm Beardie whose first action on coming into the house was to flop on the settee with me and lick my nose. Then she set about mothering the psychopath into normality. She was the best anti-depressant I've ever had.
Sadly she got kidney disease a couple of years ago, and had to go to the great kennel in the sky.

The psychopath (now retired) grieved. We found a wolfhound/beardie bloke for her, to run & chase balls on the beach with her. She taught him to like other dogs. Now she's too stiff to run much.
So we got another wolfhound cross to run with the other one. A beautiful sandy coloured wolfhound x GSD who loves people (and can manage a whole one!)

I love mutts, they're so healthy. Maybe one day I'll have to downsize, but there's plenty to choose from in the rescue centres.

Paws

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: open mike
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 01:33 PM

we useed to have a dog that was a "heinz 57" variety..
we dubbed her breed as Canardly.....as my dad said
we canardly tell what she is...(she was a smaller
terrier mix...)

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 05:41 AM

When my mechanic dad took over the lease of the garage where he worked, he asked/told his old boss to leave his dog cos the bloke didn't treat her well.

After that Dad could play any game with Lassie, pull her tail etc & she'd come back grinning & saying do it again. They had some wonderful times. She was a medium-sized black dog, probably a with a bit of kelpie & she liked us, but Dad was her person. She was a friendly to most people, but always used to run barking at a kid from down the street, so Dad assumed he'd done something in the past to deserve it.

As she was supposed to be a watch dog, she was locked in the garage overnight & it was a family joke that if a burglar had broken in she would watch him, & if he fed her her favourite choccie, a Westons Wagon Wheel she'd carry his bag for him.

If Dad didn't move the box of Wagon Wheels to a higher shelf at night, she'd help herself & we'd find wrappers in her bed next morning. This was back in the olden days (mid 60s) when choccies & other sweet stuff wasn't always sealed & Wagon Wheels came in an open waxed paper bag, so local kids no doubt got dog germs with their Wagon Wheels, but we were tougher in those days. Later they came in sealed foil bags & were smaller!

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Goose Gander
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 02:44 AM

"Dogs once served as protectors, as companions for people who were/are alone for one reason or other."

They still do.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 21 Sep 08 - 01:50 AM

The first Ginger we had was a Cocker Spaniel. I have never found them to be initially warm towards strangers, but with family she was very loving. The district we then lived in was quite territorial as were the people. Heck, when I was nine I went three blocks from home into a lane--what would now be called an alley way--to smoke a cigarette with a few friends. The news got home before I did and I don't want to go into gory details of a talking to in no uncertain terms involving a long time in jail, worms taking me to the river, and possibly my ancestors looking on me in shock fast approaching horror that would probably bring on their deaths if they weren't already dead. So Mrs Grundy made the call that was at once spreading gossip and being the first to report my misdemeanor which was a felony in her translation of actual events. (Ginger had nothing to do with that, by the way.)

She knew the neighbours and she was always reserved but polite. For a few she wagged what was left of her tail and went over for a pet or two. I think it was Mr Clark who would scratch her belly for her and I think she was on great terms with him because of that. She was very gentle with my younger sister and welcoming when my mom got home from work. My grandmother liked dogs but preferred they be outside dogs that wouldn't shed in her domain. We were all poor, but the whole district kept their apartments, buildings and grounds clean, free from litter or clutter, and times were tough, especially on women who had to care for all that. My grandmom washed my grandfather's and her clothes by hand using a scrub board and the bathtub, Sunlight soap (in bars) and one helluva lotta sweat. She did let Ginger in her place, but that was the only dog I recall ever being there except for Queenie. And she'd lay down beside where my grandmother was doing laundry and commiserate as best she could.

We'd had her for maybe three years when one morning I was first awake and going to the toilet which was off the kitchen and there the poor old girl was under the table with a pool of blood beside her mouth. I spent over ten months breaking every single window in that man's house just around the corner. I practised lots with a slingshot--as did most kids back then--and I was quite good with one. I do not know to this day why he poisoned her. They moved out and rented the place they were in shortly thereafter, not something I attribute to cause and effect, although if it was that it wouldn't bother me one bit.

The relationship humans have with dogs is thousands of years old. Dogs once served as protectors, as companions for people who were/are alone for one reason or other. They have saved humans untold toil and helped in our development as a society by the expedient of being herders and watchers. I fear that today we are doing our canine friends a great disservice by NOT spaying them. The times of dogs being central to parts of our working lives is almost done and we've begun to treat the best animal friend we've ever had as a cute thing to keep around but easy to get rid of when they become an inconvenience. That seems to exemplify to me the way our world has become as humans search for riches and destroy things in the process. Loyalty is available to the highest bidder, and dogs have no money.

Anyway, I've rambled on enough for tonight.

Woof!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bert
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 11:13 PM

We've had three pedigree Airedales and loads of mutts. Loved them all.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Q (Frank Staplin)
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 11:10 PM

Two years ago we got a female mixture from the shelter. Very docile and retiring- the ideal pet for two older people. No bother at all. The vet guessed she was part Corgi, with some German Shepherd or similar. Big paws with a digger's claws, but rather low to the ground (definitely not dachs). Large ears, which give a clapping sound when she shakes her head and shoulders.

It took a while, but she decided we would do and started to train us to her wants and needs.
She demands clean, cold water- and barks at her bowl until she receives it.
Her food must be moist, milk preferred. The super quality dry food the vet says she should have is ignored unless milk or left-over soup is added.
Walks are a must. She has several routes which we must follow in turn- she digs in and is immovable if she doesn't care for your choice of routes.
She keeps the yard clear of squirrels and magpies, but ignores the small birds, which may forage around her with impunity.
No cats allowed, but outside the yard, she noses and rubs a big marmelade that lives up the street.
In the car, the rest between the front seats is her usual perch; sudden breaking or quick turns earns us dirty looks.
She barks when the mailman is next door- although she is indoors, all doors and windows closed. How she does this is a mystery.
She never bites, but follows any visitor around, barking, until she is recognized and given due attention.
Always has to get out in the middle of the night. Wakes us with the ear claps, or, if we don't respond, small yips, soon followed by sharp barks. After doing the necessary, scratches at the door, and pops back into her warm bed before one gets the door closed again.
Sadly looks at one at meal time, waiting for a treat, but never demanding.

A good boss in spite of all.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Janie
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 10:55 PM

Here's a dog story. When I worked in Morgantown, WV, I lived in a small rural community called Dellslow. (Sis, who had lived in the area for several years took me around when I was searching for a place, and referred to it as "Dellslow, the home of the inbred and the ugly.") Translation - cheap rent.

I had not lived there long when I dubbed it the Dellslow Dog Farm from the number of dogs allowed to roam free around the neighborhood. One dog was a 120 lb. mixed breed named Spud. Not long before I moved there, I had acquired a hound puppy, Bessie.   Momma was an American Foxhound. (Daddy was supposedly a Blue Tick, and Bessie sure had the characteristic coat of a Blue Tick, but she also clearly had some Whippet in her. ) Anyway, she was a pure hound mutt.

I was pretty hard up in those days, and she went into heat before I had the money put aside to have her spayed. My then boyfriend (the aforementioned ex), was out of town for several weeks, and I was keeping his un-neutered dog when she went into heat.   

Talk about biological imperative!

It was crazy time.   I took Cactus to work with me everyday, and kept Bessie locked in the house. Nighttime, I would put one of them in the basement and keep the other upstairs with me. Meanwhile, the house was surrounded by all the male dogs allowed to roam free by my neighbors. When I walked Bessie, I had to carry a staff to beat (I mean, fend) off the dogs. When she reached the point of being receptive, Cactus (boyfriend's dog), was absolutely frantic. I had her in the basement and him upstairs with me. I was trying to sleep, but he kept jumping up and running across the bed, trying to get out of the bedroom to the basement door. Then I heard the sound of breaking glass in the basement. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. A neighbor's dog, part bassett hound, had busted out a high, small window in the basement and fallen through to get to Bessie. I grabbed him, hauled him up the steps and out the kitchen door, brought Bessie upstairs, and dragged Cactus out to spend the night in my car. (It was winter, and cold outside.) I could hear Cactus barking and baying out in the car as I went back to bed, but the sound was muffled, and I finally went to sleep. About 3:00 in the morning, I was awakened by the sound of Bessie yelping in pain. I jumped up and ran toward the kitchen, where the sound was coming from. I flipped on the lightswitch to see Bessie and Spud locked up. Spud had dismounted and was dragging Bessie toward the back door, which was standing open, the wood at the latch splintered from Spud battering his way in to get to her. All I could do was follow them outside and wait for Spud's hard-on to subside and free Bessie. In the meantime, Cactus is going bonkers inside my little Dotsun compact. He ripped chunks out of the seats, the dashboard, and the ceiling, and tore out a seatbelt.

r

Boyfriend did pay to fix what damage that was repairable to my car. Neither the of the other two dog owners felt like they had any responsibility to fix the window or the door. I went to the bank the next day and borrowed the money to abort any puppies and have Bessie spayed, and have never delayed since in having a dog spayed or neutered as soon as they were old enough for the procedure.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Sorcha
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 09:57 PM

Janie, I've experienced the same thing. Not from my husband but from other men. Oh YES...spay the bitches, but NEVER cut the boy's balls off!!!! I've even heard 'Oh, just let them have their fun'. I'm sorry, but mating isn't a 'fun' thing for dogs...it's a Biological Imperative.


I still haven't thought of any good dog stories...but I'm a few brain cells shy of a brain lately. My most favorite Veterinarian died last Sunday and I'm still not over that. I have NO idea what clinic I will use when I have to have a Vet. Probably bite the bullet and drive 30 miles. Long ways in an Emergency.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 09:54 PM

I've had it done--please allow me to rephrase that: Had both males and females in for the procedure. My dog Tamar was spayed after her first and only litter. The man about town who was responsible was likely some great great great great grandchild of Ginger.

One of the brandings I was helping out at made a new-comer friend of my go a bit squeemish. Leon used to bite the vas deferens and hold three pair between his teeth that way. Best cutter in the business.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Janie
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 08:03 PM

I've never had anything but mixed breeds, but there is nothing inherently wrong with the notion of a purebreed dog either.

Puppymills are as deplored by responsible breeders of purebreds as by anyone who both loves dogs and are thoughtful.   It is true that there are many irresponsible breeders - not just puppy mill proprietors, but people who buy a purebred for a pet, fail to screen it for genetic problems common to the particular breed and then breed it to someone else's pet purebred who also did not do their homework, thinking to make a little money or recoup the cost of the pet bfore having the dog spade or neutered. I worked for the AKC for a couple of years as a customer service representative. They did everything they could to discourage puppy mills and had strong educational programs to encourage to NOT breed dogs likely to pass on genetic defects.

By the same token, many irresponsible owners of mutts fail to neuter or spay them, then let them roam to breed more unwanted dogs.

It is interesting to me that people are much more likely to spay a female than to neuter a male, simply because owners of males do not have to deal with the result of not neutering them. My ex-husband and I had a number of go-rounds on this issue. He never had an issue with spaying a female, but you would have thought it was his own nuts we were discussing when it came to neutering male dogs we owned.

Janie

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 08:01 PM

Ah, Peace, nothing like a good country dog!

The dog who turned me into a dog-lover wasn't even my dog. Her name was Luna, and she belonged to a dear friend: both long passed on. Luna was a vision, a huge dog of unknown ancestry, picked up free at a farm market. She had the most lustrous long white fur, spotless and shining - the guard hairs seemed transparent, like a polar bear's. She most resembled a ghostly Newfoundland, except her snout was longer and more slender, and she had the most beautiful dark brown eyes. I never heard her bark or whine, though she would make excited whimpering noises and Bill said she sometimes howled when they camped out in the woods.

The first time I saw her, she walked over and laid her head in my lap. I house and dog sat for Bill when he had to be away, and Luna was a better and more reassuring companion than many people would have been. A very kind and gentle dog. Bill swore that for a week after he slaughtered his chickens, Luna wouldn't look at him, she was that upset with his shocking behaviour. She'd looked after those chickens!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 05:57 PM

Once as a kid who'd only been walking for a year I decided on a hot summer day to crawl into Queenie's dog house. It was very hot and she was a full-sized Collie. What a dog. She nipped me on my cheek because I was yanking her tail. She got what for from my Aunt and Uncle, and so did I. Anyway, a bear came down from the mountain (Laurentian's, so just big hills for you folks in sight of the Rockies or Selkirks or Coastal Range. She backed it off and had it running back up the hill in about two minutes according to my Uncle. He went after the bear with Queenie, ax in his hand. (As a btw, my uncle had that same ax for over 30 years. It had had two new heads and five new handles. Thanks Bill D.)

She was unintentionally left at home by her nominal owner, Uncle Billy who was not a real uncle but my Uncle for all that. He'd got stuck out of town and Queenie held her bladder for at least 24 hours. The poor old gal met him at the door and for the first time he could recall she went outside without his permission and let loose a flood that would scare some folks. There she was barking, wagging her whole hind end, the chorus of which kept time to her tail.

She would block me if I tried to leave the yard or go near the road. No one taught her that. It's just the way she was. She died in her sleep. Uncle Billy, now too passed on, was in tears for a long time.

Much like Bee's dog, she would 'patrol' the beach when people were in the water. She disliked the water, but if she thought people were distressed she'd go in after them. She plain and simple liked life and humans. Got on well with other dogs, too, with the understanding that she was the matriarch and that was that. She had a certain regal quality to her and imo richly deserved her name.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Sorcha
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 05:22 PM

Oh my, oh my. 50 plus years of 'dogging'.....not sure what to say.

I DO agree that mutts/mongrels have their place. And it's a GOOD place.
I DO agree that 'pedigrees' have ruined many breeds.
I SO agree that purebred dogs have a GOOD place too.


It just all depends on the human involved, what that human wants from a dog, what human is going to DO with the dog, what the DOG is going to do for the human....too damn many variables to categorically state one is better than the other.

I am NOT in favour of purposely crossbreeding ANY dogs to get what is now known as a 'Designer Dog'....Labradoodles, PeekA Poos, etc....

When I have time, I'll try to post a good Dog Story.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 03:28 PM

John MacK, Mattie's a very pretty dog, with that snow white blaze down her chest.

Our girl didn't look much like her Newf. father. People erroneously identified her as a Collie, a Golden Retriever, A Shepherd, but universally agreed with our assessment of her looks - she was just pretty.

The Newfoundland Dog in her came out when she hit the water. She was double coated and swam really high, with her back out. When anyone was swimming, she would patrol in front of them, presenting her thick tail over and over. If the person grabbed her tail, she would immediately swim to shore, pulling them along with her. No one taught her this trick.

We get water from our lake, and one day my husband was diving to clear weeds away from the intake. I came running out of the house because the poor girl was in howling, barking hysterics, running back and forth on the wharf, unable to tell where he was, thoroughly paniced. When he surfaced, she hit the water in a millisecond, took his arm in her mouth and was certainly planning on dragging him ashore, dead or alive. He got her calmed down, but she swam right against his body until he got out of the water.

She adored sticks, any size, and loved fetching them out of the water. A small eel got tangled in my husband's line while he was fishing one day, and it took a while for him to get the line off the frantically wiggling creature. Our girl was fascinated by this 'wiggly stick', and when he threw the eel into the water, she dove in and spent a really long time searching for it, occasionally giving husband reproachful glances. In fact, she looked for that wiggly stick off and on for days after the event.

Me too, Peace. Miss my dog and love hearing other people's dog stories. I'm the dogsitter of choice for several of my friends' dogs - I love having weekend doggie visitors.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Rapparee
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 03:08 PM

Tsar was an Irish Setter bitch. I was walking her in the yard when she hit a perfect point. Tail out, right forepaw up, just like a picture.

Then a sparrow flew out of the hedge and the damned dog nearly knocked me down, running for protection.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 02:58 PM

Best dog I ver had was a pedigree German Shepherd. Pardon me, but her father was the Count of Something or Other and her mother was--by all that's sacred--the prettiest most intelligent-looking animal I have ever seen in my life.

Then there was Ginger. (We had a string of dogs named Ginger.) This Ginger just showed up one day and decided to stay. He had his own habits by then--he was about three when he attached himself to my sister's leg and began that boom ba da boom. Eventually we broke him of that habit with humans. The arm of the chair was another matter. Anyway, he'd take off on occasion for two or three days. First few times we thought he'd got lost or been killed. Then he'd show up smelling of dead fish. He musta rolled in it. Craziest damned dog I ever met! Then the ado when he had to be washed. JAYSUS. Like trying to grab a greased pig. It always seemed to take three of us to actually get him into the tub. He had a definite sense of humour otherwise.

Animals that enter our lives and take up residence in our hearts have personalities we come to know and cherish. I had a dog that overcame her greatest fear because she saw I needed help in the water. That was the pedigree. The mutt took on two dogs that were threatening me (I was about 13 at the time). He got a few tooth gashes on him, but he put the run on them. I can't recall if he smelled of fish.

I love to read of people's experiences with the animals that share their lives. This is a neat thread. Thank you.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: rumanci
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:52 PM

LOLOL

I knew I'd regret it. Dang !!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: KenM
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:47 PM

Damn............and I thought he was talking about the first dogs that were allowed to settle in Oklahoma.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:38 PM

Sooner piss on the floor than go outside, Rum.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: rumanci
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:09 PM

"Sometimes they are referred to as 'sooners'"

Okay Peace
I've got a feelin' I may regret asking
but why ?

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: John MacKenzie
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 12:07 PM

Mattie {Mehitabel} says MONGRELS RULE OK!

JM & friend

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: MartinRyan
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 12:04 PM

We generally describe our dog as a "slobberador" - with a bit more slobber than lab!

Regards

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Goose Gander
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 11:52 AM

Our dog is a lab-pit-pointer mix, as far as I can tell. Or maybe she's a short-haired cattle dog. I wish I had a dollar for every time someone tried to guess her 'breed' and I had tell them I had no idea, she's 100% mutt.

But I would draw a distinction between dogs bred for a practical purpose (border collies, labrador retrievers, blue tick hounds, etc.) and 'dogs' bred purely for grotesque effect (I won't name any because I would feel bad about disparaging a dog for human sins, but I'm sure we could all think of a few).

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: wysiwyg
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 09:21 AM

Saw a cool program about the "breed" movement (dog eugenics, ew) that got popular and resulted in the breeds we now know. Till I saw it, I never realized how relatively recent it had all been... but that explains why, ferally, they revert back to a few basic types in only a few generations. It also explains why pack mentality remains so strong in them, however we think we may domesticate them. They really do domesticate US. If you have a dog in your life, you are probably closely related to Romulus, Remus, and others (real or apocryphal) adopted by wolves.

GO DOGS!

~Susan

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Bee
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 09:11 AM

Very nice article, IMO.

I am a loyal promoter of mutts, mongrels, random-breds and Heinz 57s. Our dog was the lucky result of a mating between a Newfoundland male and a female whose appearance no doubt resulted from the mixing of many generations of farm dogs. She was large, ginger and white, beautiful, and utterly kind. She never harmed or even threatened a living thing in her whole life.

When I moved to this area a couple decades ago, the job of dog-catcher included going around to try to catch people who hadn't paid their dog-licence. The man who held the position when I first lived here was uniquely unfitted for the job: he was missing a leg, didn't like wearing his prosthetic, so would sit in his truck and yell out the window as to whether you or anyone in the neighbourhood had an unlicenced dog.

Soon after, a lady took on the job, and she had the advantage of actually going to the houses and knocking on doors, so was much more successful. About dogs and cats, however, she knew little. When she inquired of a friend of mine what breed the dog was, for her form, he replied, while affectionately ruffling the dog's fur: "Oh, she's just a mutt, really. She's a soft-eared puppy". He swears she had written mutt, then crossed it out and put down 'Soft Eared Puppy' on the breed line. A neighbour marvelled that he had jokingly told her that his tiny lap-dog was a cat, at which pronouncement she said good-day and left. Alas, those days are gone, one must now drive to town to pay the license.

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 03:00 AM

great article. I read about the Crofts controversy.

On this side of the world, we've been living in interesting times with controversy about puppy farms, unwanted pets, pedigrees & fashionable cross-breeds. Authorities are wanting to ban pet shops in malls from selling animals cos they can be sourced from puppy farms, and are usually impulse buys, & many turn up later at rescue organisations, along with the unwanted pedigreed & fashionable cross-bred animals. Animal welfare organisations suggested buying rescue animals.

And did the shops react - they put petitions in their windows getting zillions of signatures against the proposal & told everyone they don't buy from puppy farms.

The fight is on-going.

sandra

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: open mike
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 02:13 AM

or here--take a trip to Mongrolia..http://www.mongrelfolk.com/

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: katlaughing
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:17 AM

Thanks for that. Lovely and I agree!

Subject: RE: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Peace
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:13 AM

Sometimes they are referred to as 'sooners'.

Subject: BS: In Praise of Mongrels
From: Goose Gander
Date: 20 Sep 08 - 01:06 AM

That's right, mongrels . . . or mutts as they're called in the US.