my friend sent me this in an e-mail today . . .
Who is really your best friend? Your dog or your spouse?
Ok, check this out….I tried this…and guess what? It really, REALLY
works!
1. Lock your spouse and your dog in the trunk of your car.
2. Wait one hour.
3. Open up and see who is really happy to see you
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bejesus!
btw. . . anybody interested in my nice new shiny font?????????????
O wise & patient one
Would it work to test the loyalty of ungrateful Republicans too?
I don’t do dogs, but I’m sure if I locked my spouse and one of my cats in the trunk for an hour, they would both come out looking to scratch my eyes out! 😉
I’ve got your Christmas present right here, dude. Just stick your face a little closer…..
Dog synchronicity. I came home to an email box filled with lots of complaints about the local beach dogs, how they wander like a pack, how they bite each other, how one of them allegedly bit a human, how they relieve themselves wherever they want to, and on and on and on and on. The only good news in the email was that my sweet and wandering Luna LongLegs was tied up during the most recent alleged fracas (an unbelievable piece of luck) and that was reported. Some of the emails said that the Mexican Dog Police should be called. What a bad idea.
This is a terrible development. First a guy or two show up and give you a yellow, written warning that all the dogs have to be chained or fenced or locked in the house, no wandering, no playing, no packs, no wildness. Then they come back a day or two later later and snatch up any dog that they find, to euthanize the offenders. All of the dogs that have homes, of course, get tied up immediately because of the notice. All of the dogs that are friends of dogs that are tied up, or family hangers on get tied up for a few days by loving neighbors. The only ones left will be the most aggressive, biting, unmannered curs, the agent provacateurs who started the whole mess, the biters, the mean, in short, the scape goat. After s/he is gone, the Dog Police will dutifully leave. They will return to the Dog Police HQ, bringing sanity and peace again, until the next incident. Then we start all over again. Complaints. Calls to Dog Police. Warnings. Tying up. The Hunt. Release of the captives. Repeat as necessary.
So it appears that there are some folks who love dogs (me, you, etc) and there are others, well, not so much. They do not have a Pootie Police, or a Cat Commisar here. Thank your lucky stars.
…an appropriate puppy outlet which works for you and SO together. Maybe there is a fostering thing in the area? Walking neighbor pups? An ad at the local Albert Hein? Goddess knows there is no shortage of pups who have owners but need love and light, attentive training.
Me, I can’t stand dogs, though I trained them long ago. They know this. I have a full rabies sequence to show for it. I can never blame the dog for the whole spontaneous lunge and bite — animals just do what they do, and we sort of priviledge the idea that people’s doggies can act out for them — but it has given me a bit of a jaundiced eye toward the whole doggy luv thing. I am one of those people who seriously considers leaving tiny cookbooks of dog recipies on the collars of tied up pooches.
(running…)
they can tell I’m a cat person.
On the other hand, so can cats. They’ll come out of hiding when I go for a walk and come right up to me. They know!
although I’m more of a cat person. But I love to play with other people’s dogs…and then give them back.
HA! I ride SHOTGUN, baby.
Maybe these two. Stump, and dumb as a stump.
great comments!
Very nice diary & the photos are too funny.
This, I recvd. in the mail from a friend, this week.
I`m a dog person, but love my cats, birds, fish.
Nicest cat pic. RiaD`s black & white one.
“Gentlemen of the Jury: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man’s reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.
The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man’s dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master’s side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer. He will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.
If fortune drives the master forth, an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.”
George Graham Vest – c. 1855