Haha this struck a note, cause our white wolf Fenrir was obviously a lockdown puppy, and has now turned from a spoiled city "fur baby" (gah, yeah) to a no-less-spoiled rural "working" dog (the quotation marks are doing a BIG job here, he is mostly still "just" our companion, the constant white shadow of Karl and I)... He is 95% of the time a very good boy, and has been trained pretty well by us - seeing he is of wolf size and stature and could really do some damage if he wasn't - but he is by no means as well-trained as an actual farm or hunting dog. The one time we hoped he'd bring our calf towards his mom who was bellowing for it with a giant udder of unspent milk, he merrily chased it right into the herd of teenage calves who protectively enveloped lil' Jason Moomooa, that scoundrel. We gave up right there and then, him and Momma Moomooa now live with the teenage harem. Fenrir was my first dog, but by Cthulhu, has there never been anything that so completely captured this crazy cat lady's stony (towards dogs, until then) heart! Except for the miniature donkeys, they're on par. Fenn will soon be bred with a black German Shepherd lady, and his offspring (one of which we'll keep) will be trained as a more "proper" rural working dog. We hope. I'll keep you posted. Or better, come visit the "Viking Retirement Village" in Pūponga sometime soon! XXX
At Moon, a brown labrador appeared at the edge of the table along with the chips, and stared at them, barking from time to time. A musician in an Iron Maiden t-shirt was worried that the dog's tail was going to knock his expensive electric guitar off its stand. I realised I'd forgotten to mention dogs knocking things over with their tails.
I love it how the speculative weaves in with the cinematographic, and the bit with the moon and the foam and the shadows made me crave for a novel by the same author :)
Newsflash! I have an agricultural explanation for the rambunctiousness of half-poodles from Kev the Farmer. A first-generation hybrid between two breeds is called an F1 (Filial-1). This cross-breeding is done because in the first generation the best characteristics of both breeds are predictably combined. Say if you take a mountain ewe and a long-wool ram, the mountain sheep is hardy and the long-wool is fecund. This predictable assortment of traits is combined with what is known as hybrid vigour- a sizeable advantage in health and growth rate etc.
The second generation (ie. my North-North-West dog, the quarter-breed) would be the F2 generation: at this point you get unpredictable genetic recombination so it's harder to tell how they will turn out. (The whole process of purposeful interbreeding as practiced in the UK is known as stratification: the next agricultural move would be to cross the female F1s with yet another breed.)
Using this science, a labradoodle or a spoodle- as well as combining the best genetics of both breeds- expresses hybrid vigour. Not coincidentally, the dog-breeders are creating a style of dog that can't be reliably replicated in the F2 generation: a profitable, unpirateable product.
Considering that poodles, spaniels, and labradors are all retrievers- that is, their traditional job is to run into the swamp and bring back the birds you've shot- then an appropriate employment for a spoodle or labradoodle would be something similar. The closest they get in the city is running into the sea to bring back a ball.
Haha this struck a note, cause our white wolf Fenrir was obviously a lockdown puppy, and has now turned from a spoiled city "fur baby" (gah, yeah) to a no-less-spoiled rural "working" dog (the quotation marks are doing a BIG job here, he is mostly still "just" our companion, the constant white shadow of Karl and I)... He is 95% of the time a very good boy, and has been trained pretty well by us - seeing he is of wolf size and stature and could really do some damage if he wasn't - but he is by no means as well-trained as an actual farm or hunting dog. The one time we hoped he'd bring our calf towards his mom who was bellowing for it with a giant udder of unspent milk, he merrily chased it right into the herd of teenage calves who protectively enveloped lil' Jason Moomooa, that scoundrel. We gave up right there and then, him and Momma Moomooa now live with the teenage harem. Fenrir was my first dog, but by Cthulhu, has there never been anything that so completely captured this crazy cat lady's stony (towards dogs, until then) heart! Except for the miniature donkeys, they're on par. Fenn will soon be bred with a black German Shepherd lady, and his offspring (one of which we'll keep) will be trained as a more "proper" rural working dog. We hope. I'll keep you posted. Or better, come visit the "Viking Retirement Village" in Pūponga sometime soon! XXX
Ahahaha GET AWAY ROUND FENN GET IN BEHIND!
Fenrir is a Good Dog IMO. Curious to see those pups though! Grey? Or patchy? Or wolfish? Only time and genetic lottery will tell...
Apparently, most will look like normal Alsatians but you should hopefully get a couple of pure white / black ones 😻
At Moon, a brown labrador appeared at the edge of the table along with the chips, and stared at them, barking from time to time. A musician in an Iron Maiden t-shirt was worried that the dog's tail was going to knock his expensive electric guitar off its stand. I realised I'd forgotten to mention dogs knocking things over with their tails.
I love it how the speculative weaves in with the cinematographic, and the bit with the moon and the foam and the shadows made me crave for a novel by the same author :)
Newsflash! I have an agricultural explanation for the rambunctiousness of half-poodles from Kev the Farmer. A first-generation hybrid between two breeds is called an F1 (Filial-1). This cross-breeding is done because in the first generation the best characteristics of both breeds are predictably combined. Say if you take a mountain ewe and a long-wool ram, the mountain sheep is hardy and the long-wool is fecund. This predictable assortment of traits is combined with what is known as hybrid vigour- a sizeable advantage in health and growth rate etc.
The second generation (ie. my North-North-West dog, the quarter-breed) would be the F2 generation: at this point you get unpredictable genetic recombination so it's harder to tell how they will turn out. (The whole process of purposeful interbreeding as practiced in the UK is known as stratification: the next agricultural move would be to cross the female F1s with yet another breed.)
Using this science, a labradoodle or a spoodle- as well as combining the best genetics of both breeds- expresses hybrid vigour. Not coincidentally, the dog-breeders are creating a style of dog that can't be reliably replicated in the F2 generation: a profitable, unpirateable product.
Considering that poodles, spaniels, and labradors are all retrievers- that is, their traditional job is to run into the swamp and bring back the birds you've shot- then an appropriate employment for a spoodle or labradoodle would be something similar. The closest they get in the city is running into the sea to bring back a ball.