Quotes About Dogs

3. There are bears and there are small dogs. Be strong like bear! If they take out your teeth, sit on the dogs. Bears always forget they can just sit on the dogs. Sit on the dogs.

Treat 'em like dogs, and you'll have dogs' works and dogs' actions. Treat 'em like men, and you'll have men's works.

I love dogs, but dogs, you have to be in the country with dogs. I cannot walk a dog on the street.

When I say "dogs", I'm talking about dogs, which are large, bounding, salivating animals, usually with bad breath. I am not talking about those little squeaky things you can hold on your lap and carry around. Zoologically speaking, these are not dogs at all; they are members of the pillow family.

Dogs are voiceless ... a critical part of having dogs is emotional responsibility: learning how to understand them and, when necessary, to speak and act on their behalf.

Hey! You can be more than just a car company. You can be more than just a pet food company. You can aspire to loving dogs, rather than just feeding dogs.

I think some dogs may like the attention of being dressed up by their humans because they interpret it as affection, but unless it's something that you've made the dog used to from the time it was a puppy, it's probably going to always feel a little weird and unnatural to the dog. This doesn't mean I think people should never dress their dogs up as long as they do it for the right reasons. If you're putting booties and a coat on your dog to protect it from the weather, then that's a pretty legitimate reason.

I could claim any number of high-flown reasons for writing, just as you can explain certain dogs behavior... But maybe, it’s that they’re dog, and that’s what dogs do.

Dogs are actually very smart, it's just that they're rather clumsy, but it's this trait that makes humans attracted to them and why I love dogs so much.

This past Thanksgiving, my father was at the farm, and I had all 11 dogs in the house with a father who never allowed dogs in the house. And he got up to leave the table and came back and Solomon was in his chair. And he says, "This dog is in my chair." And I said, "It's the other way around, you're sitting in his chair."

In regard to dogs, my most memorable thoughts concern my daughter's dog and her fondness for them. In fact, one day while working at the office, she hosted a birthday party for one of her Newfoundlands and the party was attended by dogs of other coworkers. It was a hectic few hours, but I believe the guests enjoyed themselves.

Americans, too many of them, take themselves too seriously. You're going to get rapped - by the viewers, by the sponsors and by the network brass - if you joke about doctors, lawyers, dentists, scientists, bus drivers, I don't care who. You can't make a joke about Catholics, Negroes, Jews, Italians, politicians, dogs or cats. In fact, politicians, dogs and cats are the most sacred institutions in America.

The only food he has ever stolen has been down on a coffee table. He claims that he genuinely believed it to be a table meant for dogs.

Cats and dogs believe politicians are like cemetery caregivers; they are on top of everyone, but nobody listens.

I am as confounded by dogs as I am indebted to them.

I joined PETA for minks and dogs. I need my beef, my chicken, my seafood.

Service dogs raise their masters' sense of well-being.

Artists like cats; soldiers like dogs.

I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.

I'm trying to accept the idea that there's a different definition of what matters now. The rating for James Corden at 12:30 at night doesn't matter as much as the number of hits he gets on YouTube when he goes driving around with Adele. There are old dogs out there doing new tricks, and I got to recognize them.

They offer, if we are wise enough or simple enough to take it, a model for what it means to give your heart with little thought of return. Both powerfully imaginary and comfortingly real, dogs act as mirrors for our own beliefs about what would constitute a truly humane society. Perhaps it is not too late for them to teach us some new tricks.

Dogs aren't like family members, they are family members.

The fact of the matter is I'm 21 now. I stay home. I feed my dogs. I don't really go out. I work.

I started a PhD in English at the University of Chicago because I loved poetry-which I now realize is like saying I studied vivisection because I loved dogs.

Dogs are one of those things that make you happy and make you wonder.

The more I see of the representatives of the people, the more I admire my dogs.

I have always been an animal lover. I had a hard time disassociating the animals I cuddled with - dogs and cats, for example - from the animals on my plate, and I never really cared for the taste of meat. I always loved my Brussels sprouts.

No dog is too much for me to handle. I rehabilitate dogs, I train people. I am the dog whisperer.

Walking my dogs twice a day provides me with an opening and closing of my day, and I've learned to use those walks for a walking meditation.

I always say that if she treats her kids half as good as she treats the dogs, they'll be in great shape.

I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts.

You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us.

A mist. A great mist. It covered the entire kingdom. And everyone in it - the good people and the not so good, the young people and the not-so-young, and even Briar Rose's mother and father fell asleep. Everyone slept: lords and ladies, teacher and tummlers, dogs and doves, rabbits and rabbitzen and all kinds of citizens. So fast asleep they were, they were not able to wake up for a hundred years.

Dogs serve people, but people serve cats.

I just moved onto Queen West, after 20 years in Cabbagetown. The whole area around Trinity-Bellwoods is one of the juiciest in Toronto - all kinds of people to watch, dogs to pat, food to eat, galleries to check out. And the walk home from CBC delivers some of the most interesting window-shopping in town.

These are things that only dogs and women understand because we tap into the pain directly, we connect to pain directly from its source, and so it is at once brilliant and brutal and clear, like white-hot metal spraying out of a fire hose, we can appreciate the aesthetic while taking the worst of it straight in the face. Men, on the other hand, are all filters and deflectors and timed release.

Noblest of all dogs is the hot-dog; it feeds the hand that bites it.

You know where we got stuck? We were looking for faithfull, loving and perfect relationships-males who were always glad to see us." "So?" "We already have that!" "What do you mean?" "We've got dogs!

[On her dogs:] I have four now. My friends tell me if I get any more they'll have to hold an intervention.

I also like men who like dogs. I couldn't date a man who doesn't like my dog.

The Führer is always quite cheerful, cheerful with all his heart, when he is having tea with his friends during the night, or when he is training his dogs!

Dogs have fleas; people have each other. We are born to die. Life is a continuing tragic comedy. Everything and everyone we love suffers. Anybody who doesn't see that has not grown up and known life.

One of the most obvious ways dogs can improve our physical and mental health is via daily walks.

After you work out, you have your dog with you. There's no better companion. You've got to have a friend. I didn't like opponents who had dogs with them. Because you know they had a little edge. They have a friend

Dogs are in on our human silliness; lions are not.

I don't want to be in my car all day. I love getting up in the morning in Venice and walking my dogs down to the café to get my tea, and then perhaps going to a bookstore and sitting and reading, then walking to the beach.

When the hares have all been caught, the hunting dogs are cooked.

Why is it we want so badly to memorialize ourselves? Even while we're still alive. We wish to assert our existence, like dogs peeing on fire hydrants. We put on display our framed photographs, our parchment diplomas, our silver-plated cups; we monogram our linen, we carve our names on trees, we scrawl them on washroom walls. It's all the same impulse. What do we hope from it? Applause, envy, respect? Or simply attention, of any kind we can get? At the very least we want a witness. We can't stand the idea of our own voices falling silent finally, like a radio running down.