Rottweiler Quotes

Victor patted my hand. 'I like you, Sky. You're a fighter.' 'I am, aren't I? Hear that, Zed? No more bambi comparisons. I'm a Rottweiler -with a temper.' 'A very small Rottweiler,' said Zed, still not convinced.

Who cared whether you could change motor oil when you could snap a rottweiler’s neck in 2.8 seconds? Now there was a practical skill.

Hestia looked at Eli like he was dressed in a gorilla suit and immediately morphed into a Rottweiler the size of a lion. “You still think I should wear clothes,” she challenged Eli.

Never mind that I totally knew more about fighting vampires than my peace-loving parents. Or that Logan's girlfriend, Isabeau, had given us two full-grown, trained Rottweilers to protect us, plus the Drakes sent their human bodyguards by a couple of times a night. I named them Van Helsing and Gandhi. The dogs, not the bodyguards." "Chapter 1 Lucy, page 15

You're like rottweilers - they protect you from burglars, but nothing protects you from them.

My kids are around pit bulls every day. In the ’70s they blamed Dobermans, in the ’80s they blamed German Shepherds, in the ’90s they blamed the Rottweiler. Now they blame the Pit Bull.

The rottweiler stood his ground and waited for me to take the next step in the dance of ritualized intimidation. Instead, I leaped at him. Screw ritual. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.

The bad news was that the yard contained a dog. A very, very large dog, wide and hairy, like a cross between a rottweiler and a Goodyear blimp.

It’s amazing how fast you can run when there’s a f**king rottweiler chasing you.

You've got a pit bull on one side of you and a rottweiler on the other, first thing you do is drop your steak.

Fierro’s, no matter what, stick together. We’re like our own army. We can fight like cats and dogs among ourselves, we can call each other every vile name there is. But if anyone else dare to do the same, we band together like rottweilers.

He grinned. “I think Rae just adopted you.” “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” “It’s not so bad. It’s like living with your own personal Rottweiler.

We know that something isn't right with you and Jace. You're both too strong, too fast, and Kale—dude, you keep sniffing the wind like a lost puppy that can turn into a Rottweiler at the first sign of trouble.

Duke was a burly, barrel-shaped Rottweiler made up of muscle and solid fat and built like a wrestler, a dog that looked like it was permanently on the verge of dying of boredom. He shook his weighty head as if he was being plagued by ear-mites and dislodged a scatter of small romantic words like a broken rope of pearls.

Des heard the dogs. They weren't barking, he realized, not exactly. They were swearing. And the rooftop rottweilers, faintly and almost plaintively, at this distance, were swearing back: 'FUCKOFF!' yelled Joe, or Jeff. It was almost a monosyllable. 'FUCKOFF!' 'FUCK! FUCK!' 'FUCKOFF!' 'FUCKOFF!' yelled Jeff, or Joe. 'FUCKOFF!' 'FUCK! FUCK!' 'FUCKOFF!

Growing up, my best friends were my books, and my Rottweilers.

I know I won’t waste another day agonizing over what I can’t control. I am going to make sure my one wild and precious life is spent living as fully and completely as I can and if that means living alone with an aging rottweiler and eating canned food until I’m an old woman so be it.

What do you get when you cross a Rottweiler with a Collie? A dog who bites off your arm and goes to get help.

Mort glanced sideways at the top of Ysabell’s dress, which contained enough puppy fat for two litters of Rottweilers, and forbore to comment.

Rottweilers don't turn into neutered Chihuahuas.

Bestigui, who was five feet six inches at the most, had pushed his way out from behind his desk now; as unafraid of the enormous Strike as a pit bull whose yard has been invaded by a Rottweiler.

... I used to have a big dog, a rottweiler, to guard the place. One night I was working late, and he was outside barking in the snow. He wouldn't stop. Then he stopped. I went out ten minutes later with a lamp, and there was a ring of wolves eating my dog.

Pound for pound, these animals don’t add up to much. Dog fanciers with a couple of Rottweilers trump us in terms of sheer biomass. But, when it comes to sheer insistence, even the largest, most unruly dogs—or for that matter, your average herd of cattle—are no match for our ducks, geese, parrots, parakeets, turkeys, cats, rabbits, and other birds.

I was also in Glenochil Prison in 1992 when Hammy was stabbed five times in the chest and belly off another man called Fudge, but give Hammy his dues, he never tried to jail bait his attacker up. Fudge never got any more time to his sentence for the frenzied attack on Hammy. This man has also had pit bulls and rottweiler dogs set on him and guess what, he beat the dogs.

If you’ve got a bag in that SUV, you might as well get it out.” “He’s not staying here,” Lisa countered. “I say he is.” Lisa yanked at the coat from within. “You’re not the only person who lives here, Robin.” “No, but I’m one-third owner of the house.” She motioned Donovan toward his truck. “Consider whatever part of the house he’s in as my third.” “Damn it, Robin! I don’t want him here.” “I do.” “Why?” Robin cocked her head to the side as if considering the question. “Because he’s got that big, mean, don’t-mess-with-me look of a rottweiler on steroids that could be a deterrent to any repercussions from your trip into town today, and because”—she shrugged and a smile touched her lips—“he bothers you in a way I’ve never seen you bothered. It’s interesting.

And the dog episode?" He tried for innocence, but his laughter was echoing in her mind. "What do you mean?" "You know very well what I mean," she insisted. "When Dragon walked me home." "Ah,yes,I seem to recall now. The big bad wolf decked out in chains and spikes, afraid of a little dog." "Little? A hundred-and-twenty-pound Rottweiler mix? Foaming at the mouth. Roaring.Charging him!" "He ran like a rabbit." Gregori's soft, caressing voice echoed his satisfaction. He had taken great pleasure in running that particular jackass off.How dare the man try to lay a hand on Savannah? "No wonder I couldn't touch the dog's mind and call him off. You rotten scoundrel." "After Dragon left you,I chased him for two blocks, and he went up a tree. I kept him there for several hours, just to make a point.He looked like a rooster with his orange comb." She laughed in spite of her desire not to. "He never came near me again." "Of course not.It was unacceptable," he said complacently,with complete satisfaction, the warmth of his breath heating her blood. His mouth touched, skimmed, moved across her nipple, branding her with his heat, with flame, before finding the underside of her breast. Savannah closed her eyes against a need so intense that she shook with it. How could she want something that hurt so terribly? No pain,ma petite,only pleasure. His tongue created an aching void in her. I swear it on my life. His mouth was hot velvet closing over her breast. Fire danced over her skin, invading her body, melted her insides so that she was liquid heat, pulsing with need for him, only for him.

Take tail docking…in which the last several inches of a puppy’s tail are removed, usually without anesthesia, sometimes with extremely crude instruments such as scissors or razors. The American Kennel Club (AKC), which develops guidelines used to judge canines in competition, prefers boxers, rottweilers, cocker spaniels, and dogs belonging to dozens of other breeds to have docked tails. In other words, an ideal specimen is one that’s been surgically reshaped by humans.

At night in the game room, Sunny slept curled into a ball against Kyle’s chest, like a kitten who was friends with a big dog—a rottweiler whom she trusted implicitly. Sunny was always with Kyle. I couldn’t remember ever seeing them unattached since I’d opened these silver gray eyes for the first time. Kyle seemed constantly bemused, too distracted by this impossible relationship he couldn’t quite wrap his head around to pay attention to much else. He wasn’t giving up on Jodi, but as Sunny clung to him, he held her to his side with gentle hands.

And a Rottweiler named Sadie he keeps chained in the backyard pretty much around the clock from the looks of it.” “The goodest girl,” Noah said dreamily. “We’re gonna steal her.” “We’re not stealing her,” Adam said, exasperated. Noah gave Adam a withering glare. “Dexter needs a friend.” Adam snorted. “Dexter needs a doctor to fix his gas problem. You need more friends.” “Dogs are man’s best friend,” Noah countered, pivoting in his lap just enough to look him dead in the eye. “I want that dog.” “You’re not getting the dog,” Adam snapped, eyes immediately going wide when he realized he’d raised his voice. “Ooh,” Zane said under his breath to Felix. “He’s so getting that dog,” Felix muttered

When he lifted his head, Savannah nearly pulled him back to her. He watched her face, her eyes cloudy with desire, her lips so beautiful, bereft of his. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Savannah? There is such beauty in your soul, I can see it shining in your eyes.” She touched his face, her palm molding his strong jaw. Why couldn’t she resist his hungry eyes? “I think you’re casting a spell over me. I can’t remember what we were talking about.” Gregori smiled. “Kissing.” His teeth nibbled gently at her chin. “Specifically, your wanting to kiss that orange-bearded imbecile.” “I wanted to kiss every one of them,” she lied indignantly. “No, you did not. You were hoping that silly fop would wipe my taste from your mouth for all eternity.” His hand stroked back the fall of hair around her face. He feathered kisses along the delicate line of her jaw. “It would not have worked, you know. As I recall, he seemed to have a problem getting close to you.” Her eyes smoldered dangerously. “Did you have anything to do with his allergies?” She had wanted someone, anyone, to wipe Gregori’s taste from her mouth, her soul. He raised his voice an octave. “Oh, Savannah, I just have to taste your lips,” he mimicked. Then he went into a sneezing fit. “You haven’t ridden until you’ve ridden on a Harley, baby.” He sneezed, coughed, and gagged in perfect imitation. Savannah punched his arm, forgetting for a moment her bruised fist. When it hurt, she yelped and glared accusingly at him. “It was you doing all that to him! The poor man— you damaged his ego for life. Each time he touched me, he had a sneezing fit.” Gregori raised an eyebrow, completely unrepentant. “Technically, he did not lay a hand on you. He sneezed before he could get that close.” She laid her head back on the pillow, her ebony hair curling around his arm, then her arm, weaving them together. His lips found her throat, then moved lower and found the spot over her breast that burned with need, with invitation. Savannah caught his head firmly in her hands and lifted him determinedly away from her before her treacherous body succumbed completely to his magic. “And the dog episode?” He tried for innocence, but his laughter was echoing in her mind. “What do you mean?” “You know very well what I mean,” she insisted. “When Dragon walked me home.” “Ah, yes, I seem to recall now. The big bad wolf decked out in chains and spikes, afraid of a little dog.” “Little? A hundred-and-twenty-pound Rottweiler mix? Foaming at the mouth. Roaring. Charging him!” “He ran like a rabbit.” Gregori’s soft, caressing voice echoed his satisfaction. He had taken great pleasure in running that particular jackass off. How dare the man try to lay a hand on Savannah? “No wonder I couldn’t touch the dog’s mind and call him off. You rotten scoundrel.” “After Dragon left you, I chased him for two blocks, and he went up a tree. I kept him there for several hours, just to make a point. He looked like a rooster with his orange comb.” She laughed in spite of her desire not to. “He never came near me again.” “Of course not. It was unacceptable,” he said complacently, with complete satisfaction, the warmth of his breath heating her blood.

momma so stupid I told her I was reading a book by Homer and she asked if I had anything written by Bart. *** What do you get when you cross a Rottweiler with a Collie? A dog who bites off your arm and goes to get help.

She had the temperament of the fire-eyed little shih tzu at the dog park that takes on the rottweilers with zero sense of disadvantage.

Derek Rottweiler can’t go to the Natural History Museum at all anymore,” Matthew said, “because he took a slingshot into the butterfly conservatory

I enjoy talking politics and debating social issues, but I've discovered that unless I want to be sent to a colony for social lepers, I better keep some of my made-in-Singapore opinions to myself. Freedom of expression may be sacred here, yet I can't help but feel that if you trangress the limits of what the French deem ideologically acceptable, the only person you'll be expressing your opinions to will be yourself. Or the likes of Jean-Marie Le Pen or some old lady in Alsace who lives in a forest and breeds Rottweilers. The alternative to self-censorship is social exclusion, which may be less draconian than imprisonment, but the net effect is pretty much the same. (p. 152)

The

I really don’t like sleeping alone unless the bed is covered in rottweilers. I’ve seen far too many “the voice is coming from inside the house” films.

I’d pushed the previous night’s conversation far off into a distant archive in my mind. It was sealed in a lockbox. Guarded by Rottweilers.

We hardly find traces of information about their presence. One didn't take notice of the dogs, because their presence was taken for granted.

I went to the humane society. Dr. Nathan told me Moonshine was growing and no one wanted her because they didn’t love pit and rottweiler mixes. I petted my little girl more than I did the others.

There’s something soul destroying about being Sunny Wadia’s shadow. His Rottweiler. His court jester. His nursemaid.

One imagines that similar scenes of joy erupted throughout the world wherever two or three faithful Catholics gathered together. In contrast, the election of Ratzinger was greeted with grief and horror by those heretical theologians and cafeteria Catholics whose heresies and backsliding equivocations had been condemned by the new Pope during his many years as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. As usual, these wolves in sheep’s clothing howled in unison with the wolves in the secular media, uniting themselves with the avowed enemies of the Church in their hatred of the hero of orthodoxy who had forced them into retreat during his years as John Paul II’s faithful and fearless servant. In the war of words that followed the Pope’s election, the enemies of orthodoxy decried the new German shepherd as “God’s Rottweiler.” Although the gentle and saintly Ratzinger did not deserve such an epithet, it is ironically apt that the wolves who would devour the flock should hate the Rottweiler who had courageously stopped them from doing so!

What do you get when you cross a Rottweiler with a Collie? A dog who bites off your arm and goes to get help. ***

Barely spring, yet the unseasonable Florida humidity made me feel like I’d disembarked from my flight into a Rottweiler’s mouth.

Maybe curiosity did kill your cat. But it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the neighbor's rottweiler just the same.

You’ve got a pit bull on one side of you and a rottweiler on the other, first thing you do is drop your steak.” Miller

Alys," he exclaims happily. "I think this might work out. You're going to be excellent in getting rid of unwanted visitors." "I'm not a fucking Rottweiler," I say indignantly.

12What is considered aggressive is culturally and generationally relative. German shepherds were on the top of the list after World War II; in the 1990s Rottweilers and Dobermans were scorned; the American Staffordshire terrier (also known as the pit bull) is the current bête noire. Their classification has more to do with recent events and public perception than with their intrinsic nature. Recent research found that of all breeds, dachshunds were the most aggressive to both their own owners and to strangers. Perhaps this is underreported because a snarling dachshund can be picked up and stashed away in a tote bag. 13

A large Rottweiler tied to a fencepost at the far end of the salvage yard pricked its ears up and growled, but only for a second. The sound, the terrible screeching, caused the dog to cower against the yard’s security fence and whimper like a scared pup. Beneath the car, the rat lay on its back, legs kicking furiously, clawing at the air, a high-pitched squeal escaping its open maw, much too loud to be produced by its tiny lungs. Its head lolled from side to side and its tongue flapped about like a meaty whip. Beneath the rat’s coarse hair, bones were snapping, rearranging, fusing. Muscles were flexing, ripping, building. Cells ruptured and then re-formed. DNA strands resequenced, and resequenced again. Something was being born, at the same time something else was dying.

She was a squat, angry-faced middle-aged woman with lank brown hair who looked like she fought Rottweilers for a hobby. This was the legendary Detective Sergeant Miriam Stephanopoulos, Seawoll’s right-hand woman and terrifying lesbian.

Rachel shook her head, as if casting out the memories from her mind. Something he'd been unable to do in one hundred and ninety-eight years. Memories, painful and stark, failed to retreat, instead they clung to him like a Rottweiler to a bone.

Sergeant Dominick Leland was tall, thin as barbed wire, and peered at the world through a permanent scowl. A rim of steel-colored fuzz circled his mocha pate, and two fingers were missing from his left hand, lost to a monstrous Rottweiler-mastiff attack dog he fought to protect a K-9 partner. With thirty-two years on the job as a K-9 officer, Dominick Leland had served as the Platoon’s Chief Trainer longer than anyone in the history of the Los Angeles Police Department, and was an undisputed, three-fingered legend. The Officer-in-Charge ran the Platoon, but Leland was the final authority and absolute master in all matters regarding dogs, dog handlers, and their place within the Platoon. When

The South: Three-wheeled Piggly Wiggly shopping carts, grease-caked engine blocks, baby strollers with shredded black hoods, Soviet rocket parts, human skulls on spikes and orange-eyed Rottweilers on heavy chains breathing fire...

A person that doesn't read and doesn't have any ethics complaining about a writer feels like a Chihuahua barking at a Rottweiler.

But what've we got instead? Idiot collies, neurotic shepherds, murderous Rottweilers, deaf Dalmatians, and Labs so calm you could shoot a gun at them and they wouldn't suspect danger.

We've been informed and have seen other landlords' property insurance get canceled when an insurance representative has found these animals on the insured property: Pit Bulls Rottweilers German Shepherd Husky—Alaskan Malamute Doberman Pinscher Chow Great Dane St. Bernard Akita Wolf Hybrids And they continue to add more animals.

A maresia nos ancoradouros foi para mim um livro

The question about the toughest, smartest, most lethal dogs had always been a matter of heated debate when Raven was in the Marines. Some people preferred German Shepherds, while others were partial to Rottweilers, Dobermans, or the Belgian Malinois. But for Raven’s money, there was nothing more fearsome than a pissed off fully grown Akita.

You know when they tell you life’s not fair? Well, I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I’m guessing they were probably referring to a mission like this. I mean, after all I’ve been through—which includes traveling to the Underworld, arguing with an evil Djinn, destroying another Orb of Oblivion, almost being a spider snack, watching the soul of my best friend vanish into thin air, and finding my long-lost teammate—now I’m destined to be dog kibble? Yep, life’s definitely not fair. Especially when it’s about to end in the messiest way possible. That’s because, at the moment, I’m standing face-to-snout, or should I say ‘snouts,’ with a giant, three-headed dog who looks hungrier than Dog-Gone at an all-you-can-eat chicken buffet. And to make matters worse, this particular dog looks like a cross between a Rottweiler and a pack of Timber Wolves—in triplicate! It has jet-black fur, six orange eyes, and lots of really, really sharp teeth. As I look from vicious head to vicious head, two thoughts come to mind. One, they must go through a ton of chew toys around here. And

when I don’t focus on eating slowly, I tend to scarf down my food, like a ravenous Rottweiler who missed a couple of meals. Eating fast tends to mean eating more

Small was her destiny. And despite that, or because of it, she’d grown up with the furies in her sails, honing her confidence in verbal and physical combat with a brother who quickly doubled her in size. She had the temperament of the fire-eyed little shih tzu at the dog park that takes on the rottweilers with zero sense of disadvantage.

Now the rottweiler got up and wiggled toward the fence but she continued on, having read they had been misbred into unreliability like pit bulls. A

Ele pré-aqueceu o forno elétrico por vinte minutos, que passou brincando no quintal com as cadelas. Uma era um pastor-belga; imagine um cão marrom; agora imagine que, num surto de raiva, um grafiteiro tenha-lhe despejado um jato de spray preto em todo o rosto e em todo o peitoral; e ainda continuado o trabalho esguichando um pouco nas costas e nas lombadas quando a tinta já estava acabando; esta era sua cachorra mais nova, linda e estranha, e astuta e alerta. Ele se identificava muito com ela. A outra era uma rottweiler branca e, portanto, cheia dos problemas de saúde que o cruzamento para se gerar um rottweiler dessa cor acaba provocando; seu sistema imunológico era debilitado, e seu comportamento, arredio e carente ao mesmo tempo; um olhar perdido, quase humano, como de uma donzela que carrega uma culpa que se arrasta de gerações e gerações passadas. Você não espera isso de um rottweiler, espera?

It’s difficult to nail down the dangers of specific breeds. News reports often, and without sufficient evidence, blame the breeds considered dangerous at the time. Today, for example, pit bull terriers and rottweilers take the blame for attacks from all sorts of dogs. In the past, Doberman pinschers and German shepherds were similarly blamed.

He learns a bit more slowly than a shepherd dog, but what he learns he knows forever. The Rottweiler is a very fine character dog, but not everybody is suitable for this type of dog.

Rottweilers are one of the breeds coming under attack as vicious dogs. Honcho himself is “real good with kids.” Well, all breeders say that about their favorite dogs, but Honcho’s soundness has been tested. “Honcho had a bit of a rough time. He’s been teased by kids, but he came through that and still really likes kids. Some other dogs go through that, well, they’ll just hang back when kids come over, but Honcho introduces himself to new kids on the block. When my sixyear-old, Adam, goes outside, I have him take Honcho. Then I know he’ll be safe.

It’s a whole plot of flowers ranging from a few inches to a foot high. They have petals like roses, but in the center of each blossom is a bright white set of teeth. They snap and snarl at me when I get close enough to give them a once-over. The front teeth are sharp with big canine fangs at the edges. The big ones are like Rottweiler flowers, while the little ones bark and nip like Pomeranians with an attitude. There’s a good six feet of them between me and the tree. I look around for something to smash them with, but everything in here is as mean as these mutt posies.

I’ve tested half of them. And of the number I’ve tested I have disqualified one pit bull because of aggressive tendencies. They have done extremely well. They have a good temperament. They are very good with children.” It can even be argued that the same traits that make the pit bull so aggressive toward other dogs are what make it so nice to humans. “There are a lot of pit bulls these days who are licensed therapy dogs,” the writer Vicki Hearne points out. “Their stability and resoluteness make them excellent for work with people who might not like a more bouncy, flibbertigibbet sort of dog. When pit bulls set out to provide comfort, they are as resolute as they are when they fight, but what they are resolute about is being gentle. And, because they are fearless, they can be gentle with anybody.” Then which are the pit bulls that get into trouble? “The ones that the legislation is geared toward have aggressive tendencies that are either bred in by the breeder, trained in by the trainer, or reinforced in by the owner,” Herkstroeter says. A mean pit bull is a dog that has been turned mean, by selective breeding, by being cross-bred with a bigger, human-aggressive breed like German shepherds or Rottweilers, or by being conditioned in such a way that it begins to express hostility to human beings. A pit bull is dangerous to people, then, not to the extent that it expresses its essential pit bull-ness but to the extent that it deviates from it. A pit-bull ban is a generalization about a generalization about a trait that is not, in fact, general. That’s a category problem. 4.

Places I woke up after drinking 95% (all true): up a tree, on a large flat rock, in an empty, pitch-black bomb shelter (it took me an hour to find my way out), lying on the border fence trouser-less being licked awake by a giant Rottweiler.

This matchup felt about as lopsided as they came. Like pitting a handful of adorable kittens, romping through a pile of yarn, against a pack of rabid, genetically engineered Rottweilers wielding chainsaws.

The rottweiler reared up on its back legs, trying