For "play" barking, sure. I'd buy that. I'm not sure that "security" barking falls into that pattern though. Boredom barking is something I'd also consider separate from play barking.
Plus there are breeds that are simply barkers - most of your terrier classes, for ex - and breeds that generally are not - huskies are basically non-barkers, unless it's really encouraged in them. Most fall somewhere in between.
Lucy is basically not a very barky dog, and only in her security function. Mailmen, doorbells and knocks on the door, but
especially
other dogs passing by are her big triggers. ETA: And the other dog thing show how much the security concern is defending her own turf, rather than "oh, she's protecting you..." heh.
I should add another category, which is "hurry up and give me what I want" barking, which in her case mostly arises if she's out in the yard and wants to come in and you haven't responded to her scratches at the door quickly enough for her liking.
In my experience, Yorkies are certainly very vocal.
Mike had a Samoyed that never barked. The whole time I lived with him, like three years, I never heard that dog bark. Not even chasing squirrels.
So excited for the Ripper news.
Lee, what did you want to do in San Jose?
Turn left from San Carlos onto Market, since the hotel Cass was in was on Market. They had the whole area blocked off because of the race, so I couldn't get there.
Ha. Versus has lost their Tour de France feed in the middle of the last stage. Whoops.
Oh, well that explains the sporks...
The Oxford English Corpus — compiled from 32,000 different sources, ranging from news to fiction to blogs, all published since 2000, representing English from all over the world and growing every year — is a mother lode of such insights.
Buffistas are in the Corpus.
At least vs got it back at the very end.
Yorkies are a sort of terrier.
Barking is behavior that they call "self-rewarding" in dog-training and very difficult to train out.
Well, if someone can recommend a way to train an eight-year-old beagle out of barking, short of electrocution, surgery or a shovel to the brain-pan, I'd love to hear it.
This is really appealing to me: It's not your mom's mini-van
With rust and wood paneling concealing the menacing turbo-power hiding under the hood, no one would expect that old Dodge Caravan to rule the drag strip
Sporting bib overalls, gnarly beard and grimy baseball cap, Paul Smith looks nothing like a champion of the thoroughly domesticated.
But he becomes their hero every time he works his stout frame behind the steering wheel of his dragster: a 1989 mini-van with rust bubbles on the fender, faux wood grain on the sides, 185,000 miles on the odometer and a turbocharged engine that rockets the van down the track at 106 m.p.h.
"A lot of dads walk up to me after a race," said Smith, 43, of Seneca in north central Illinois. "They're just shaking their heads. They can't believe it. They shake my hand and say 'thanks.'"
A husband and father of three with a trailer sales business, Smith drag-races mini-vans.
He's part of a curious corner of the auto racing subculture in which avengers of the sensible deliberately keep their mini-vans as frumpy and suburban-vanilla as possible. But menacing horsepower lurks under the hoods, and sitting in the captain's chairs are steely-eyed veterans.
