The Dogs of War !
 

Or hunting .. :shrug:
Two Rhodesian Ridgebacks .
Ethnographic weapons in themselves .

Beware the gaze . ;)

Great looking dogs Rick! I take it that the one wearing mittens has a problem clawing up the interior of the car when going out for a ride? :eek: :D

No Robert, that's so he leaves no pawprints at the kill . ;) :D

Actually, he hurt a dew claw and would not stop licking it . After we covered it he started in on the other paw as if to make up somehow .
Now he wears two socks .

dewclaws are a right pain in the, er, leg.

one of my greyhounds never had his - i think they removed them when he was born. the other had hers, but they'd snag on stuff, tear the nail off, get hurt, got infected, etc. i'd make sure the nail was clipped as short as possible on the dews. removiung the claw in an adult is not easy, it's like having your pinky finger chopped off. she pulled the claw almost all off once, went to the vet. he pulled off the rest, bled like a fountain until he cauterized it. it grew back in a few months.

poppy, my current saluki lurcher has hers too. so far no problems but i suspect a couple times she's wiped out running & hurt her paw were from snagging the dewclaw in long wet grass & tripping.
http://i153.photobucket.com/albums/s...8_20-36-36.jpg

(i call her my ridgeback as she has a distinct herringbone pattern in the fur down her spine & distinct from the hair away from the spine.)

they used the ridgies to hunt lions in rhodesia. fearless little buggers.
salukis were/are used in the arabian penninsula to hunt antelope and small game, and have more stamina than greys. poppy loves to run. and run.

p.s. - a lurcher is a cross between a sighthound, ie. a greyhound or saluki/borzoi/deerhound/etc. and another breed, like a collie - or a rhosdesian ridgeback. poppy is half saluki - and half something else.

Hi guys,
Those are not ethno dogs; they are aristocratic figures :rolleyes:
But mine is; no breed, no ID card :eek: .
Just rescued from the streets, where he was wandering around the block crying for attention; probably abandoned by his masters due to a tumour in his left buttock.
Surely not a young guy; during the surgery, he had to have most of his teeth extracted. My monthly pension went for the Vet.
His name is Simão ... and we love him.

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Hi Fernando,
I believe these might be yours. :D :D :D
My Regards,
Norman.

Q: What has this to do with ethnographic arms and armour?

A: EVERYTHING!

:)

Forget it Norman, these can't be mine; there are no weapons available around ;) .
Besides, the one in charge of guarding the house (Adriano) weighs almost 9 kilos and atacks with his bare hands (i mean paws) :cool:

.

adriano's paw next to fernando's: :), and fernando left a few decimal places off the weight.

Let's not exagerate; my paw is not that large :rolleyes: :eek:

You are a very good man, Fernando .
I salute you, as do all dogs in need .
Such heart !
Bravo .

Absolutely; Man's first and immemorial ally in the hunt .

This my male Japanese Kai Ken, used to hunt boar and deer. The purest of the remaining Japanese breeds.

A FEW INTERESTING BREEDS WITH HUNTING AND WAR DOG HISTORYS.
1. AFGHAN HOUND HUNTING
2. MASTIFF GAURD AND WAR DOG
3. & 4. JAPANESE SAMURAI DOG ARMOR
5. FOR CAT PEOPLE THE DEREADED CAT CANNONBALL. :D
6. MY RAT TERRIER GAURDING HER CHRISTMAS BONE.

May as well add one of mine here. She's a leonberger.

That's because in my previous incarnation i was no good son of a gun, Frederico :shrug:
I guess 'rescue' should currently be my middle name :D. You should see the rest of the team; the one cat was adopted three legged, another one having to urgently become one eyed; what's next ?

Hi,
My wonderful Grey-girl sadly no longer with me having succumbed to cancer. As far as I know the oldest hunting breed, known to have been used in one form or another for about ten thousand years. On the other hand the 'little bugger' is my Norfolk Terrier smallest working terrier breed sometimes known as the Cambridge Terrier and an excellent watchdog. The breed is nicknamed the 'Perfect Demon' and not without cause I can tell you, seen here 'guarding' the woodpile or more likely searching for mice and mischief.
Regards,
Norman.

P.S. Fernando you are quickly becoming my wife's perfect hero. :) :) :)

.

Great dogs chaps...

I have often found you annoying Fernando, {As I am sure you have I.} So its Good to see the humanity in you for our little friends who have no control over their destiny...

I follow the same path...

Spiral

Does he have diabetes? This is a serious question.

I appreciate your frankness, Jonathan :cool:

No, he is fine; only a great food devourer.
Our daughter, a veterinary, regularly visits us and checks up the whole pet team.
Thank you for your concern :)

Ready for another one :cool:


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...........passing wind can be dangerous!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D

Not mine but spotted this at a recent local Militaria show. The 50cal is the real deal by the way but I would not go near it ...........would you??

WW2 WAR DOG WORKING ON BIAK ISLAND NORTH OF NEW GUINEA.

Barry, your picture reminded me of the dog I grew up with many years ago in Australia. My father had this dog during WWII when he was stationed in Darwin. The dog was a mix of Australian kelpie and Queensland healer. Not very big, maybe 50 lbs, but he had been trained as a guard dog.

During the bombings of Darwin by the Japanese, the AA batteries or the Royal Australian Air Force would occasionally shoot down a plane and an Army detachment would be sent to look for survivors. The dog would go with them. If the downed crew showed any signs of resisting capture, the dog would be sent in to sort them out.

In 1947 we moved south to Melbourne and the dog came with us as a house pet. He was my father's dog but he was my best buddy. He would sleep with me and follow me around. But he never forgot his training. We had to keep him in a high fenced yard because he did not take to strangers coming to the door. On one occasion the gas man came to read the meter. There was nobody home and although we had a large "Beware of the Dog" sign displayed prominently the man decided to hop over the fence to get to the meter. He swung a leg over, promptly lost the heel of his boot and the dog latched onto the rest of it until my father got home and called him off--the man had been straddling the fence for an hour with the dog hanging on.

That dog never barked and had been trained that way. He had also been trained to only eat cooked meat to avoid him taking poisoned food. He died at the age of 14 years in 1955 and it was the only time I ever saw my father cry--we all did.

His name was Sebastien.