Dog Quotes

“Look at a dog on a leash. This monstrous, abject “pet” used to be a magnificent, powerful, proud wolf. Now it’s a joke. That’s what human interference with carnivorous nature achieves – the opposite of evolution, the removal of animals from vibrant nature to make them pathetic, enfeebled playthings and projections of human beings, with all their crazy neuroses and subjective mental traumas. The example of dogs should provide a horrific warning from history of how strong animals can be turned by humans into the most pathetic creatures.”
― David Sinclair, The Wolf Tamers: How They Made the Strong Weak

“The happiness equation, it seems, is to be stupid, unconscious, and a slave to God. Then God will love you and everything will be perfect. It’s amazing how many people love that equation. It’s basically the equation that rules the lives of dogs! If you want to keep your freedom then you must kill God! That’s the only way. God must die so that God may live – the new God. To repeat, God is dead, long live the new God.”
― David Sinclair, The Wolf Tamers: How They Made the Strong Weak

“But it was only a dog."
Of course no one actually says that, but it feels to Sune as if all his neighbors are thinking it. Everyday life just carries on out in the street while he sits in a million pieces in his kitchen. When he collects the mail someone goes past and says "sorry for your loss," but that isn't what he wants them to feel sorry about. He wants them to feel sorry about his life, and the fact that he's going to have to see it out now without that ill-disciplined, unruly little monster. Without paws on the edge of the bed and bite marks on his wrists. How's that going to work? Who's going to eat all the liver pate in the fridge? He receives a few text messages and phone calls from the committee of the hockey club and a couple of coaches of the youth teams, all very sorry, but not as if it had been a person. They're sad that Sune is sad, of course, but they don't really understand his loss. Because of course it was only a dog. It's so hard to explain that it's more than an animal when you're that animal's human. Perhaps it takes more empathy than most people are capable of. Or more imagination.”
― Fredrik Backman, The Winners

“What is he? I definitely see Newfie, and maybe some chocolate Lab, but what else?” Morgan asked.
“I did a DNA test on him and it said he was Newfoundland, Lab, Greater Swiss Mountain Dog, and Chihuahua.”
Morgan shook her head. They’ve always gotta throw in that weird one, right?”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“The dog- Todd?- looks up from its leaking beer, puffs a sigh, then crosses the room to head-butt the fridge door closed.
"Ummm" I manage "Did you see he got a--"
"It's okay," she says. "He only has one."
"One...beer?"
"Todd has hip dysplasia. He drinks beer instead of taking painkillers. It's really okay."
...
"He was supposed to be a service dog," Agate explains.
"What for, bartending?"
"No, mobility...But then he flunked out."
"Because of the drinking?”
― Erin Bow, Simon Sort of Says

“She was one of the smallest Schnauzers Morgan had ever met, weighing in at a whopping twelve pounds. The Pak-Reynoldses kept her silver beard precisely trimmed and her coat cut tight and neat against her body, leaving her leg fur a bit longer so it looked like she was wearing little pants.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“The biggest photo in the center of the page was of a gorgeous blond dog named Hudson who was posed with a smile and an irresistible head tilt.
He looked like a Disney character brought to life, complete with a starry-eyed expression and a filtered halo of sunlight around his head. At first glance she thought he was pure yellow Lab, but the dark muzzle and oversized ears suggested that there was something houndy mixed in his DNA.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“He’s definitely young,” she laughed as he began his up-close investigation of her feet and legs. “You’re so fast, Archer!”
Morgan knelt when the dog finally came to a complete stop and looked at her with his tongue hanging out of his catfish mouth, grinning and wiggling. He danced his way closer and bumped against her leg, so she took it as an invitation and finally reached out to pet him.
“He’s so soft,” Morgan exclaimed as she ran her hand down the dog’s khaki fur.
“Yup, my velvet hippo,” Nathan said, leaning against the truck and watching them with a bemused expression.
Archer was lean and muscular, with an athlete’s body and a comedian’s face. The black mask around his muzzle highlighted the fact that he looked like a reverse vampire with his two lower canines jutting out in a pronounced underbite. He slid his body to the ground with a plop, then rolled onto his back and swatted at Morgan to pet his belly.
“Okay, bossy,” Morgan said, reaching out to rub as instructed.
“Bro, let’s go.” Nathan laughed at his dog thrashing around in front of Morgan. “He’s never going to let you stop now. Arch, c’mon.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“When she opened her eyes, Hudson was standing next to the chaise, staring at her.
“Hey, you,” Morgan said, placing her hand on the side of his face with a sad smile.
He looked up at her with a concerned expression, his ears plastered against his head and his tongue lizarding out of his mouth. He shifted his weight, then gently hopped up so his front paws were on the chaise next to her. Before she realized what he was doing, Hudson leaned closer to gently lick her cheek, exactly where the tear had rolled down.
“Oh my God,” Morgan whispered as it dawned on her. “You’re worried about me?”
Hudson continued licking her cheek no matter how she moved her face away from him. It was like he needed to distract her and wipe away any tangible traces of her sadness.
“Hud, I’m okay. I’m okay,” she lied as new tears of recognition welled in her eyes.
Oh my God. Hudson is a comfort dog.
Their family dog, Betty, had been one, so keyed in to offering support to the humans in her house that she could practically smell tears from a room away. Betty had been particularly helpful during Morgan’s angsty teen years, seeking her out when she was feeling depressed.
After realizing that Hudson meant business and wasn’t going to stop his comfort rituals, Morgan surrendered to him. She pulled him up onto the lounge, and he leaned his body against hers like a weighted blanket.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“Hudson moved closer to Nathan and planted his head on his leg, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.
Nathan rolled his head back in surrender. “He just murdered me with cuteness.”
“Pet him, please!” Morgan said, swooning over the new bromance. “He’s dying for you.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“Morgan noticed that the dog was off leash and way ahead of the guy, and she instinctively tensed up as it ran toward where they were standing. Bernadette kept her eye on the dog as well, but Palmer was oblivious, sniffing something invisible in the sand.
As the dog got closer, Morgan saw that he was carrying a piece of driftwood like it was a trophy, head up at an awkward angle to compensate for the weight of it. It was a beautiful black Lab, its coat wet with salt water. She relaxed when she realized that the dog hadn’t even noticed they were there, so focused on the joy of kicking up sand that nothing else mattered. It was the essence of dog happiness distilled to a moment, and Morgan’s heart pinched when she realized it was a pleasure that Hudson couldn’t experience.
Yet. Someday he’s going to be able to race down the beach with wet fur and a smile on his face, carrying a piece of driftwood with a buddy like they’re running a relay race.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“Barky was at her heels, and he let out a low, plaintive growl. She scooped him up and held him to her face the way Birdie had held the kitten---so naturally. They sniffed each other's noses.
It felt kind of good.”
― Jodi Lynn Anderson, Love and Peaches

“You still think I'm the same girl, don't you, Zero?" I ask as we make our way deeper into the woods, under the cover of starlight and swaying bare branches.
Zero's nose glows brighter, and I run a hand along his pale ghost body. He is both solid and made of cool winter air, and sometimes I swear I can feel his ears beneath my palm, while other times my fingers pass right through. He is both here and not here. Alive and dead. And right now he feels like my only friend--the only one who thinks I'm unchanged. Made of the same linen and blue thread.
Everyone else in Halloween Town seems to think I am someone entirely new--a girl with a royal title whose hair should be like the silken threads of a spider's web, with coffin-straight posture and a crown of feathers atop her head. But I am not these things.”
― Shea Ernshaw, Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

“She sat on the couch with Longganisa, my adorable dachshund, on her lap. Longganisa was wearing the newest outfit that Naoko Sato, my friend Yuki's daughter, had designed for her---a reindeer costume, complete with an antlered hood. You'd think Longganisa would hate it, but she was all about cute head coverings. Anytime the hood slipped off, she'd butt her little head against your hand until you pulled the hood back up, and then she'd bask in her maximum cuteness. I loved my vain little girl.”
― Mia P. Manansala, Blackmail and Bibingka

“I was a cat person, too. At least, I thought I was. But I couldn’t help wondering if it was possible for an independent, curious cat person to be having a please-love-me, don’t-leave-me, desperate, doggy kind of day”
― Laura Tucker, All the Greys on Greene Street

“A person who has often been barked can act like a dog.”
― Tamerlan Kuzgov

“The similarities that we share, and the differences that confuse us, are a blessing and a curse in our relationship with dogs.”
― Patricia B. McConnell, The Other End of the Leash: Why We Do What We Do Around Dogs

“The more you love your dog, the more you need to understand human behavior.”
― Patricia B. McConnell, The Other End of the Leash: Why We Do What We Do Around Dogs

“We humans are in such a strange position -we are still animals whose behavior reflects that of our ancestors, yet we are unique- unlike any other animal on earth. Our distinctiveness separates us and makes it easy to forget where we came from. Perhaps dogs help us remember the depth of our roots, reminding us -the animals at the other end of the leash- that we may be special, but we are not alone. No wonder we call them our best friends.”
― Patricia B. McConnell, The Other End of the Leash: Why We Do What We Do Around Dogs

“The glamour settled around him and left a smell like burning dust. Marra saw the outlines of flesh, a shadow of fur, and then Bonedog shook himself and he was a great gray dog with a skull like a battering ram and a blaze of white across his chest. His tail was still a narrow, bony whip but there was fur across it. He had immense jowls and when he looked up at Marra, they all sagged into a gigantic smile.

'Oh, Bonedog,' she said. He licked her hand and she could feel his tongue, not quite substantial but more than it had been.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“Bernie, a giant Bernese mountain dog and Lab mix (she guessed), had a long coat, mostly black except for a streak of white starting on her forehead, then trailing down her throat and onto her chest, with another spot under her tail, making her look like a cream-filled chocolate-dipped cannoli. Three of her four paws looked dunked in white paint, like she'd made a mess during a home improvement project. She was named for one of Astra's favorite characters, Bernadette Fox from Where'd You Go, Bernadette. Like the titular character, Bernie had a small circle of people she adored; she found the rest to be annoying gnats (small children excluded--- they often had snacks to share), not to be bothered with, except the squirrel who lived in the front yard, who was her nemesis. She spent hours making sure the little rodent didn't sneak into the house.”
― Amy E. Reichert, Once Upon a December

“Jack crouched to meet Bernie and let her sniff him, her tail at half-staff. Jack loved dogs though they hadn't had one in the Julemarked since Pinecone wandered in and stayed. That was decades ago. Bernie gave a quick sample lick of his chin, clearly approved, then went in for the full-body affection, knocking him onto his butt and stepping on his lap, forgetting she was more horse than dog. He couldn't help but laugh and felt he'd passed an important test.”
― Amy E. Reichert, Once Upon a December

“I research moonlight effects on sleeping humans. The research goes well with the exception of causing excessive body hair growth, a pointy nose, and a craving for dog food!”
― Steven Magee

“Feed a dog so your neighbor doesn't bark at you”
― Ljupka Cvetanova, Yet Another New Land

“Feed a dog so your neighbor won't bark at you.”
― Ljupka Cvetanova, Yet Another New Land

“I needed the puppy. More to the point, I needed that puppy. Willow kept me connected to the world when I was tempted to give up on it. She seemed to know what I was thinking or was about to think. She followed me everywhere, her tail eager to wag, her pink tongue quick to loll with doggy laughter. If I went out without her, she knew the moment I turned for home, and waited by the door for me to appear. She filled the empty spaces of my life with her bright spirit and lively presence. I came to feel that she reflected me, in an uncanny way, as if she were the canine version of myself.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“Living alone had made me sensitive. When Will was still at the farm, I didn't differentiate the scent of wild fennel from that of slowly ripening blackberries or notice how cloud patterns changed from season to season. I didn't scan the sky to anticipate the weather or feel the air with my fingertips to decide whether to hang washing on the line. Sometimes I thought I might be acquiring some of Willow's talents. When she put up her muzzle into the breeze, her nostrils fluttered as if she were riffling the pages of a book, learning secrets carried on the wind. It seemed to me I sensed almost as much as she did.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“His eyes narrowed, and I thought this was the moment he would lose his control, begin to shout at me. Maybe even attack me, as he had done before. He stiffened and took a step forward.
Willow growled louder, a wonderfully terrifying sound. She, too, took a step forward, and that stopped Will where he was, as surely as if he had run into a wall.
I said with satisfaction, "You're afraid of her."
"When did you get a dog? She looks mean."
My anger had cooled enough for me to think clear, hard thoughts. To be as cagey as Will himself. I felt as if I had lived multiple lifetimes since I had last seen Will, and I was stronger, tougher, wiser for my experiences. I said in as chilly a tone as I could produce, "This is Willow. She is mean. You want to be careful around her. She'll bite you if you do something she doesn't like, and she never likes anything I don't like."
Willow had never bitten a person in her life, but I had told the truth. She wouldn't let Will or anyone else hurt me if she could possibly help it.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“Willow!" I shouted, as I thrust my bare feet into my gardening boots. "Find Emma!"
It wasn't a command the dog had ever heard, but Willow was no ordinary dog. Willow was a gift dog, a dog perfectly designed for the Blythe talent. She knew what I needed, and she knew how to follow her instincts. She had brought the baby home in the first place, and she would do all she could to bring her back.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind

“I moaned, "No!"
That seemed to be the signal Willow was waiting for. She broke, bounding away from me, racing down the dock. As she lunged forward, she emitted a sound I had never heard from her, that I had never heard from any dog. It wasn't a bark, or a snarl, or a growl. It was more like the roar of a lion than any sound a dog should make, and it cut through Emma's cries, the gulls' shrieks, the rush of the waves.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Witch's Kind