Sometimes I feel like a fire hydrant looking at a pack of dogs.

The dog looked up in entreaty. Liquid brown eyes begged: Take me with you. I’ll be good. Oh, the lies that dogs told.

Slowly, deliberately, the dog turned from the black wolf and walked toward the man. He was a dog, and dogs chose men.

Dogs need to sniff the ground; it's how they keep abreast of current events. The ground is a giant dog newspaper, containing all kinds of late-breaking news items, which, if they are especially urgent, are often continued in the next yard.

A fence lasts three years, a dog lasts three fences, a horse lasts three dogs, and a man lasts three horses

A hungry dog hunts best