The first one killed me at 1:00 or so when he comes up with both ears looking like antennas.
Friend of mine named Mark used to have an old hunting hound by the name of Beeper. On one part of his step-father's land they've got a shallow part of the Guadalupe River. Dog loved nothing more than fetch, but never brought back the original stick. Ever.
One day, someone chunks a rock into the shallow rapid area, and Beeper hauls butt after it. And comes back with a random rock. Dog wasn't dumb either, he'd find one with some moss on it so as not to hurt his teeth.