So everyone keeps asking me what the difference is between the Labradors and the Curly-Coated Retriever. She is only 13 weeks so here's what I've noticed thus far.
The Labs are starving. Always. 24/7. They dance around like members of the lollipop guild every time I go into the kitchen. They scarf down their food before it makes it to the bottom of the bowl, belch, then move onto their neighbor's bowl. Never quite satisfied, even a piece of gum draws their interest if I am chewing it ernestly enough. Had food in it before? Its still food and I'll eat that.
The Curly could eat. She sits in the living room doing whatever she was doing before I got food ready, and only comes to the kitchen when its on the floor. She has no time for the nonsense of watching me prepare her food. She eats all of her food, but when she's done, she flips her bowl, places her front feet on it and skates through the dining room with gusto. She hits the wall and off she goes to whatever she was doing previously.
The Labradors get my attention with a subtle nose to the hand, toy on the lap or classic head under my arm. If I ignore them, they go away and find something else to do, or slouch into a heap on the floor and wait until I have time to love them.
The Curly, if she has decided its time to love her will throw her mass onto my lap and give two sharp barks. Touch me - now. This is not a request, its a demand. It makes little to no difference if someone is currently being pat, or if I am asleep. There is no ignoring this. Its time. This is the time she has pencilled in for me, and when its over, she's back to doing whatever it is she was doing previously.
The Labradors go outside in the rain to pee, begrudgingly.
The Curly goes outside in the rain to sleep, joyfully.
The Labradors play with toys. They play keep away, they play tuggy, they gently squeak the squeakers.
The Curly stalks her plaything, carefully examining it from all angles before stealthily pouncing it and quickly locating the squeaker and munching it until it is mamed and sounds sickly. She does not de-stuff, simply mames the prey internally. Then she is finished and goes back to whatever she was doing previously.
The Labradors will train as long as there are hot dogs in my pockets and whimsy in my voice. They are happy to sit, stand, down until the cows come home and will never tire. They are simple machines - input/output.
The Curly will do as asked and await her reward and off she goes, to what she was doing previously.
If I should make eye contact with the Labradors, their tails wag, thud thud thud on the ground and await my calling them over to be touched.
If I should make eye contact with the Curly, she barks at me.
The Labradors gives full body waggles when mummy comes home from whatever task, even if it was to the front porch to retrieve the mail, so very happy about my return, they greet me grunting with joy and with their prized possesions in mouth.
The Curly notices I've gone, but cannot be bothered to greet me, but she promptly steals the prized posssion of the Labrador.
To be continued. Its potty break time.
The Labs are starving. Always. 24/7. They dance around like members of the lollipop guild every time I go into the kitchen. They scarf down their food before it makes it to the bottom of the bowl, belch, then move onto their neighbor's bowl. Never quite satisfied, even a piece of gum draws their interest if I am chewing it ernestly enough. Had food in it before? Its still food and I'll eat that.
The Curly could eat. She sits in the living room doing whatever she was doing before I got food ready, and only comes to the kitchen when its on the floor. She has no time for the nonsense of watching me prepare her food. She eats all of her food, but when she's done, she flips her bowl, places her front feet on it and skates through the dining room with gusto. She hits the wall and off she goes to whatever she was doing previously.
The Labradors get my attention with a subtle nose to the hand, toy on the lap or classic head under my arm. If I ignore them, they go away and find something else to do, or slouch into a heap on the floor and wait until I have time to love them.
The Curly, if she has decided its time to love her will throw her mass onto my lap and give two sharp barks. Touch me - now. This is not a request, its a demand. It makes little to no difference if someone is currently being pat, or if I am asleep. There is no ignoring this. Its time. This is the time she has pencilled in for me, and when its over, she's back to doing whatever it is she was doing previously.
The Labradors go outside in the rain to pee, begrudgingly.
The Curly goes outside in the rain to sleep, joyfully.
The Labradors play with toys. They play keep away, they play tuggy, they gently squeak the squeakers.
The Curly stalks her plaything, carefully examining it from all angles before stealthily pouncing it and quickly locating the squeaker and munching it until it is mamed and sounds sickly. She does not de-stuff, simply mames the prey internally. Then she is finished and goes back to whatever she was doing previously.
The Labradors will train as long as there are hot dogs in my pockets and whimsy in my voice. They are happy to sit, stand, down until the cows come home and will never tire. They are simple machines - input/output.
The Curly will do as asked and await her reward and off she goes, to what she was doing previously.
If I should make eye contact with the Labradors, their tails wag, thud thud thud on the ground and await my calling them over to be touched.
If I should make eye contact with the Curly, she barks at me.
The Labradors gives full body waggles when mummy comes home from whatever task, even if it was to the front porch to retrieve the mail, so very happy about my return, they greet me grunting with joy and with their prized possesions in mouth.
The Curly notices I've gone, but cannot be bothered to greet me, but she promptly steals the prized posssion of the Labrador.
To be continued. Its potty break time.