Black Mouth Cur

IMG_3558.JPGSince the day we brought him home, we wondered what kind of dog Samson was. We were originally told he was a mix of shepherd and lab and whatever. Friends would look at him and see boxer and ridgeback. We often asked him, but he never even gave us hint. Our vet simply called him a Florida Brown Dog, and we pretty much stuck with that.

Today at the farmer’s market, a woman who I believe works at the humane society asked, “Is that a Black Mouth Cur?” I replied, “I have no idea.” She continued, “I think he’s a Black Mouth Cur. They are great dogs. In fact we have a waiting list for them. They are really good with wounded veterans and work well with those who have PTSD.”

So we went over to a bench and looked up the breed online and sure enough, Samson fit the breed’s description and looked like all the pictures. He’s got a shepherd-ish tail, but there plenty of variation allowed for in the breed. Black Mouth Curs are not among those breeds listed with the AKC, but there’s plenty of information about them available. And plenty more pics at Samdog.



Sable our Bassett howled, gazing out the window at a big black dog — mostly Rottweiler — cruising the neighborhood.  It was Timber, from a few houses down who had gotten out of the garage on Monday morning, just looking for something to do.  When I went out to corral him he snarled, but wagged pathetic stump of a tail to let me know his heart wasn’t in it.  I had grabbed the retractable leash, rated at 10 lbs., to help take him home.  I clipped it onto his collar, but he promptly bit through the cord like a piece of spaghetti.  Note to self:  take higher rated leash next time.  After he slobbered on my pants, Timber let me escort him home, and I haven’t seen him since.  But a man drove by the other day, asking if I had seen that enormous black dog who scared him “s***less” one morning.  Chuckling inwardly, I acted concerned, but knew that Timber really hadn’t intended any harm.  My neighbor Stan thinks I’m a hero for saving the neighborhood.  I think I just smelled enough like my own dogs that Timber knew I was OK.