Old Dog Quotes

You can't teach an old dog new dog new tricks. Now,you can give an old dog new toys. And we've got one here!

I have had a great misfortune; my dear old dog is dead.

Old dogs care about you, even when you make mistakes.

And I will love words for their own sake, like 'hyacinth' and 'Piccadilly' and 'onyx.' And I'll have a good old dog, and think what I like, and be part of a different sort of family, with friends, you know? - who understand that things are only worth what you're willing to give up for them.

The old saw about old dogs and new tricks only applies to certain people.

I like dogs Big dogs Little dogs Fat dogs Doggy dogs Old dogs Puppy dogs I like dogs A dog that is barking over the hill A dog that is dreaming very still A dog that is running wherever he will I like dogs.

Money can buy you a fine dog, but only love can make him wag his tail.

Dogs come into our lives to teach us about love and loyalty. They depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog; it merely expands the heart. If you have loved many dogs, your heart is very big.

A new dog never replaces an old dog, it merely expands the heart.

His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.

With the "old dog" stuff, maybe the term "old" is in there, but I'm 26. I'm not that old. It's mostly like, "Ah, you dirty old dog!" I'm saying it more like that. I'm still ripping. I'm ready to rip. I'll make a bunch more records and have a nice time. We'll see what happens.

Somewhere in [China's] soul lurks the cunning of an old dog, and it is a cunning that is strangely impressive. What a strange old soul! What a great old soul!

He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant.

Dogs are wise. They crawl away into a quiet corner and lick their wounds and do not rejoin the world until they are whole once more.

A dog is one of the remaining reasons why some people can be persuaded to go for a walk.

I have found that when you are deeply troubled, there are things you get from the silent devoted companionship of a dog that you can get from no other source.

I can't think of anything that brings me closer to tears than when my old dog - completely exhausted after a hard day in the field - limps away from her nice spot in front of the fire and comes over to where I'm sitting and puts her head in my lap, a paw over my knee, and closes her eyes, and goes back to sleep. I don't know what I've done to deserve that kind of friend.

I think we are drawn to dogs because they are the uninhibited creatures we might be if we weren't certain we knew better.

Properly trained, a man can be dog's best friend.

If dogs could talk, perhaps we would find it as hard to get along with them as we do with people.

Petting, scratching, and cuddling a dog could be as soothing to the mind and heart as deep meditation and almost as good for the soul as prayer.

Everything's got a purpose, really - you just have to look for it. Cats are good at keeping old dogs alive. Loss helps you reach for gain. Death helps you celebrate life. War helps you work for peace. A flood makes you glad you're still standing. And a tall boy can stop the wind so a candle of hope can burn bright.

A really companionable and indispensable dog is an accident of nature. You can't get it by breeding for it, and you can't buy it with money. It just happens along.

The way an old dog finds his way back over miles and miles to his home when somebody trues to shove him off on a farm someplace, that is how I find my way back to the library. It's my place, even more than my place is.

And now my old dog is dead, and another I had after him, and my parents are dead, and that first world, that old house, is sold and lost, and the books I gathered there lost, or sold- but more books bought, and in another place, board by board and stone by stone, like a house, a true life built, and all because I was steadfast about one or two things: loving foxes, and poems, the blank piece of paper, and my own energy- and mostly the shimmering shoulders of the world that shrug carelessly over the fate of any individual that they may, the better, keep the Niles and Amazons flowing.

Never tease an old dog; he might have one bite left.

When I read of the vain discussions of the present day about the Virgin Birth and other old dogmas which belong to the past, I feel how great the need is still of a real interest in the religion which builds up character, teaches brotherly love, and opens up to the seeker such a world of usefulness and the beauty of holiness.

A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.

A good man will take care of his horses and dogs, not only while they are young, but when old and past service.

She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father's voice and her sister Margaret's. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air. (last lines)

Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.

The old dog barks backward without getting up I can remember when he was a pup.

Dogs laugh, but they laugh with their tails.

An old dog barks not in vain.

I have my own method [of acting]. I come from, I've interrogated people; I come from an undercover background, so it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks.

Who's this—alone with stone and sky? It's only my old dog and I— It's only him; it's only me; Alone with stone and grass and tree. What share we most—we two together? Smells, and awareness of the weather. What is it makes us more than dust? My trust in him; in me his trust.

A good dog never dies. He always stays. He walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter's drawing near. His head is within our hand in his old way.

I don't say he's a great man. Willie Loman never made a lot of money. His name was never in the paper. He's not the finest character that ever lived. But he's a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid. He's not to be allowed to fall in his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must finally be paid to such a person.

A puppy plays with every pup he meets, but an old dog has few associates.

Near this spot are deposited the remains of one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man, without his vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery if inscribed over human ashes, is but a just tribute to the memory of Botswain, a dog.

Dogs don't rationalize. They don't hold anything against a person. They don't see the outside of a human but the inside of a human.

I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive.

Dogs feel very strongly that they should always go with you in the car, in case the need should arise for them to bark violently at nothing right in your ear.

The poor dog, in life the firmest friend. The first to welcome, foremost to defend.

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

The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.

I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts.

Sunsets are loved because they vanish. Flowers are loved because they go. The dogs of the field and the cats of the kitchen are loved because soon they must depart. These are not the sole reasons, but at the heart of morning welcomes and afternoon laughters is the promise of farewell. In the gray muzzle of an old dog we see goodbye. In the tired face of an old friend we read long journeys beyond returns.

He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.)

There are three faithful friends - an old wife, an old dog, and ready money.