Now, Ladies, don’t get any ideas . . .

How to Get Away with Murder:

Dear  Tide:

I  am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I’ve used it all of my  married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I am in my  fifties I find it even better! In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some  red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to belittle me about how clumsy I was, and generally started becoming a pain in the neck. One thing led to another and somehow I ended up with his blood on my new white blouse! I grabbed my bottle of Tide with bleach alternative   to  my surprise and satisfaction, all of the stains came
out! In fact, the  stains came out so well the detectives who came by yesterday told me that  the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and  said that I was no longer considered a suspect in the disappearance of my  husband.

What  a relief! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you, once again, for having a great  product.

Well, gotta go, have to write to the Hefty bag people.

Ronda

The Donkey

One day a farmer’s donkey fell down into a well.

The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do.

Finally, he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn’t worth it to retrieve the donkey.

He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement he quieted down.

A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing.
He would shake it off and take a step up..

As the farmer’s neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up.

Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well, and happily trotted off!
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.

Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

Free your heart from hatred – Forgive.
Free your mind from worries – Most never happen.
Live simply and appreciate what you have.
Give more.
Expect less.

NOW ……. Enough of that crap. The donkey later came back, and bit the farmer who had tried to bury him. The gash from the bite got infected and the farmer eventually died in agony from septic shock.

MORAL FROM TODAY’S LESSON:

When you try to cover your ass, it always comes back to bite you.

 

The Dog Gave It Away

I GOT STOPPED FOR SPEEDING YESTERDAY.

I THOUGHT I COULD TALK MY WAY OUT OF IT UNTIL THE OFFICER LOOKED AT MY DOG IN THE BACK SEAT . . .

 

 

A Canadian friend of mine sent me this.   I love it!!!   It would certainly not be considered politically correct, but warning to all:  my new year’s resolution is to drop all pretense of political correctness as our country is drowning in it!  I wish we could turn back the clock and as a country return to moral and ethical correctness. 

A lady Canadian libertarian wrote a lot of letters to the government,
complaining about the treatment of  captive insurgents (terrorists) being held in Afghanistan National Correctional System facilities. She received back the following reply:

National Defence Headquarters
Maj.Gen George R. Pearkes Bldg, 15 NT
101 Colonel By Drive
Ottawa , ON K1A 0K2 Canada

Dear Concerned Citizen,

Thank you for your recent letter expressing your profound concern of treatment of the Taliban and Al Qaeda terrorists captured by Canadian Forces who were subsequently transferred to the Afghanistan Government and are currently being held by Afghan officials in Afghanistan National Correctional System facilities.

Our administration takes these matters seriously and your opinions were heard loud and clear here in Ottawa. You will be pleased to learn, thanks to the concerns of citizens like yourself; we are creating a new department here at the Department of National Defense, to be called ‘Liberals Accept Responsibility for Killers’ program, or L.A.R.K. for short.

In accordance with the guidelines of this new program, we have decided to divert one terrorist and place him in your personal care. Your personal detainee has been selected and is scheduled for transportation under heavily armed guard to your residence in Toronto next Monday. Ali Mohammed Ahmed bin Mahmud (you can just call him Ahmed) is to be cared for pursuant to the standards you personally demanded in your letter of complaint. It will likely be necessary for you to hire some assistant caretakers.. We will conduct weekly inspections to ensure that your standards of care for Ahmed are commensurate with those you so strongly recommend in your letter.

Although Ahmed is a sociopath and extremely violent, we hope that your sensitivity to what you described as his ‘attitudinal problem’ will help him overcome these character flaws. Perhaps you are correct in describing these problems as mere cultural differences. We understand that you plan to offer counseling and home schooling.

Your adopted terrorist is extremely proficient in hand-to-hand combat and can extinguish human life with such simple items as a pencil or nail clippers. We advise that you do not ask him to demonstrate these skills at your next yoga group. He is also expert at making a wide variety of explosive devices from common household products, so you may wish to keep those items locked up, unless (in your opinion) this might offend him.

Ahmed will not wish to interact with you or your daughters (except sexually) since he views females as a subhuman form of property. This is a particularly sensitive subject for him and he has been known to show violent tendencies around women who fail to comply with the new dress code that he will recommend as more appropriate attire. I’m sure you will come to enjoy the anonymity offered by the burka over time. Just remember that it is all part of ‘respecting his culture and religious beliefs’ as described in your letter.

Thanks again for your concern. We truly appreciate it when folks like you keep us informed of the proper way to do our job and care for our fellow man You take good care of Ahmed and remember, we’ll be watching. Good luck and God bless you.

Cordially,
Gordon O’Connor
Minister of National Defense

Midnight Mass was lovely tonight.  I wish all of you the most wonderful Christmas as we celebrate the birthday of our Lord!

 

I can just see the sweet, humble, loving Cavalier in this story (with no author given) worshipping with the other animals in the manger with the new born King:

A Christmas Story for Dog Lovers

Long ago in the deepest of winters all of the animals on Earth were abuzz with the news.

“HE IS BORN! HE IS BORN!” cried the snowy owl.

“Come one and all, rejoice!” roared the mighty lion. “Bring gifts to the new King!”

The forest grew bright with the din of excitement. Every creature was running towards the star. The noise was so loud and joyful that it traveled distant lands. In a quiet glen, under a bramble bush, a small lonely Cavalier dog raised his head from his slumber and heard the sounds from afar.

He raised his little head and wondered. Slowly he raised his tired body and sniffed the air. He knew something was amiss – but he knew not what. A voice ever so sweet was singing in the distance, this he could hear. The words were not at all clear, but the sound was of waterfalls, and misty mornings and everything dear … Eagerly he followed the sound and soon saw a star. It shone so brightly his big eyes watered. What was this shiny thing that happily glowed? What could be happening that would bring about such a lovely sight?

His little legs beat the path for many days. He became tired and hungry but still he walked on. He had to follow the sound of that voice. The voice that reminded him of warmer and kinder times. He had to follow the light of the star. The star told him of happy things to come. At last he came into a clearing and his eyes beheld a mystifying sight. Animals were everywhere and each had a precious gift. Some brought shiny berries from the forest, some brought beautiful leaves, some brought twigs from the rarest of trees and some even brought the most precious wildflowers of the fields. They were laying these gifts at the entrance of a stable. Above the stable the light of the star twinkled more brightly than before.

He turned to the deer and asked: “What is all this? Where have I come?”

“You have come to see the new King. He is born. Where are your gifts for the child?” asked the deer reproachfully.

“I have no gifts …. I didn’t know…” said the lonely little dog with his head hung low.

The deer sneered and snubbed and quickly walked away as he tossed his head indignantly. The little dog’s body trembled all over, his little tail flew between his little legs, his little head hung lower than ever. He was ashamed.

And yet … he still wanted to get a little peek at the New King.

Quietly, ever so carefully, he crept over to the stable. He was so small he could easily hide under the other animals. Ever so sleekly he crept up to the manger and peeked inside.

“WHO ARE YOU!” boomed the voice of the Lion. “WHY DO YOU DARE NOT BRING GIFTS FOR THE NEW KING?” The little dog cowered, much humbled. He laid his little head at the foot of the manger and hid his eyes. He was ready to be killed by the Lion, and yet he spoke ever so quietly, ever so meekly, ever so bravely: “I have no gifts, I have no berries, or twigs, or bright flowers of the field … all I have is my life and I will gladly give that, for I have shamed all my brethren tonight.”

He waited – with his eyes closed, thinking that if he did die tonight, at least he would die beneath the cradle of his King. That’s when a warm and gentle hand was upon him. He did not dare to open his eyes, until he heard a woman’s voice speak: “Do not fear little one. You are safe here. This bramble in your fur speaks of the gift you have brought to him.” The lonely little dog opened his eyes and looked up at the woman.

“But I have no gift to offer, save for myself, and that is very little …” he shyly protested.

The woman smiled and scratched his ears. “Little dog, you traveled far to see the King …. that is gift enough when it comes from your heart. What gift is more precious than one given in innocence and humility? No little one, you are welcome here.” As she spoke she raised the little dog up.

“Behold, your King, the Son of Man. You shall serve him well.” And the baby smiled.

So it came to pass and dog was lonely no more.

And dog has served man ever since, loyal to a fault, and humble he remains.

A gift from God to us, for who, but dog will travel miles without explanation?

Who, but dog will cower from you even if he is not wrong?

Who, but dog will take a scolding even when he is not to blame?

Who, but dog is content to die at our feet if he so must?

Let us care for it well.

 

No, not the wonderful poem with the line “Tyger, Tyger Burning Bright” (if I remember correctly the poem was by Blake–someone please correct me if I am wrong as I am too lazy and tired to look it up), but our own Tiger who has gotten out of his cage. I don’t think that it would matter quite so much if he had not projected the picture of morality and respectful son and husband for so long. He was a hero and an example to kids especially minority kids who could dream of playing golf and being accepted in a game long dominated by whites in country club settings where African Americans were not always welcome. Tiger broke down barriers and was helping to make golf accessible to all. I thought he had real character, but I was so wrong.  I believe that more than many other athletes and celebrities and their bad boy antics, he had the responsibility to lead by example just as our President, also breaking the race barrier, seems to be doing.  Maybe I held Tiger in too much esteem as I began to watch golf on television because of him; I followed his career, watched him play, and admired him for the work he was doing for our youth by founding centers to help teach those not successful in school.  I am very, very disappointed that he has now joined the ranks of our “bad boy” athletes and celebrities who do not pay attention to whom they hurt when they cross the line of behaving correctly; his behavior may not stop his career or change the attitude of those who wish to ignore his morality and separate it totally from his sports career, but there are many of us who are very saddened by the fact that one more respected athlete or celebrity has joined the ranks of  those who feel that they are entitled to do whatever the hell they want without any regard for the chances they had to be sterling examples of public figures, who despite all the temptations of fame and money, choose to live their lives above reproach. I really do not wish to judge; but his apparent lack of character speaks for itself. I do not know who wrote the following; I just wish it had been me:

 Twas the night of Thanksgiving and out of the house
    Tiger Woods came a flyin’, chased by his spouse..
    She wielded a nine iron and wasn’t too merry,
    Cause a bimbo’s phone number was in his Blackberry.
    He’d been cheatin’ on Elin, and the story progressed.
    Woman after woman stepped up and confessed.
    He’d been cheatin’ with Holly, and Jaimee, and Cori,
    With Joselyn, and Kalika. The world had the story.
    From the top of the Tour to the basement of blues,

Tiger’s sad sordid tale was all over the news.
    With hostesses, waitresses, he had lots of sex,
    When not in their pants, he was sendin’ them texts.
    And I heard her exclaim from her white Escalade,
    “If you’re gettin’ laid then I’m gettin’ paid.”
    Despite all his cryin’ and beggin’ and pleadin’,
    Tiger’s wife went investin’ — a new home in Sweden.   
    She’s not pouting, in fact, she is of jolly good cheer,
    Her pre nup made Christmas come early this year.

 

A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear..
Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A! lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

“What are you doing?” I asked without fear,
“Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
Then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,
I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night.”
“It’s my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ‘ Pearl on a day in December,”
Then he sighed, “! That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers.”
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘ Nam ‘,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue… an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall..”

” So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”
“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
“Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,
For being away from your wife and your son.”

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
“Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”

PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is
due to our U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let’s try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq

GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS

In God We Trust

 

News Flash:

A passenger plane from Dallas to Columbus, Ohio, was delayed one and one half hours getting in (whether landing or unloading is not clear) because a whole bunch of those lovable, frolicking, quick moving otters (usually found in water not cargo holds) evidently got loose in the cargo hold of the plane.  Now how does one catch scampering, hide ‘n’ go seeking otters among suitcases, boxes, and other cargo. Why were they on the plane and where were they headed, up north for the winter perhaps?  Stay tuned until this mystery unravels hopefully on the morning news!

 

My friends are always sending me gems of features,thoughts and inspiration. I never know where the vignettes that I feature on this blog originate, but I just know that they have meaning for me and, hopefully, for you also.  The following are of my favorite subject–ANIMALS:

Animals can teach us everyday!

Jasmine
In 2003, police in Warwickshire, England,  opened a garden shed and found a  whimpering, cowering dog. It had been  locked in the shed and abandoned. It was dirty and malnourished, and had  clearly been abused. In an act of  kindness, the police took the dog, which was a Greyhound female, to the nearby  Nuneaton Warwickshire Wildlife  Sanctuary, run by a man named Geoff Grewcock  and known as a willing haven  for animals abandoned, orphaned or otherwise in  need. Geoff and  the other sanctuary staff went to work with two aims to restore the dog to  full health, and to win her trust. It took several weeks, but eventually  both  goals were achieved.

They named her Jasmine, and they started  to think  about finding her an adoptive home. But Jasmine had other  ideas. No one remembers now how it began, but she started welcoming all animal arrivals at the sanctuary.  It wouldn’t matter if it was  a puppy, a  fox cub, a rabbit or, any other lost or hurting animal, Jasmine  would peer into the box or cage and, where possible, deliver a
welcoming  lick.

Geoff  relates one of the early incidents. “We had two puppies that had been abandoned by a nearby railway line. One was a Lakeland Terrier cross and another was a Jack Russell-Doberman cross. They were tiny when they arrived at  the centre and Jasmine approached them and grabbed one by the  scruff of the  neck in her mouth and put him on the settee. Then she fetched the other one  and sat down with them, cuddling  them.”

“But she is like that with all  of  our animals, even the rabbits. She
takes all the stress out of them and it  helps them to not only feel close to her but to settle into their new  surroundings. She has done the same  with the fox and badger cubs, she licks the rabbits and  guinea pigs and  even lets the birds perch on the bridge of her 
nose.”

Jasmine, the timid, abused,  deserted waif, became the animal  sanctuary’s resident surrogate mother, a  role for which she might have been  born. The list of orphaned and  abandoned youngsters she has cared for  comprises five fox cubs, four  badger cubs, 15 chicks, eight guinea pigs, two  stray puppies and 15  rabbits.

And one roe deer fawn. Tiny Bramble, 11 weeks old, was found 
semi-conscious in a field. Upon arrival at the sanctuary,  Jasmine cuddled  up to her to keep her warm, and then went into the full foster  mum role.  Jasmine the greyhound showers Bramble the Roe deer with affection  and  makes sure nothing is matted.

“They  are  inseparable,are  inseparable,” says Geoff “Bramble walks
between Jasmine’s legs while kissing each other. They walk together round the sanctuary. It’s a real  treat to see  them.”

Jasmine  will continue  to care for Bramble until she is old enough to be returned to  woodland  life. When that happens, Jasmine will not be lonely. She will be too  busy  showering love and affection on the next orphan or victim of  abuse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  From  left, Toby, a stray Lakeland dog; Bramble, orphaned Roe  deer; Buster, a stray Jack Russell; a dumped rabbit; Sky, an injured barn  owl; and Jasmine with a Mothers heart doing best what a caring Mother would do….

Such is the order of God’s Creation.

        A wonderful story to lift your spirit

A  female whale had become entangled in a spider  web of crab traps  and  lines.

She was weighted down by hundreds of pounds of traps that caused   her to struggle to stay afloat. 

She also had hundreds of yards of line rope wrapped  around her body, her tail, her torso, a line tugging in her mouth.

A fisherman spotted her just east of the Faralon Islands (outside the Golden Gate ) and radioed  for help.

Within a few hours, the rescue team arrived and determined that she was so bad off, the only way  to save her was to dive in and untangle  her–a very dangerous proposition.  One slap of the tail could kill a rescuer.

They worked for hours with curved knives and eventually freed her. 

When she was free, the divers say she swam in what seemed like joyous circles.  She then came back to each and every diver, one at a time, nudged them, and  pushed gently,  thanking them. Some said it was the most incredibly beautiful experience of their lives.

The guy who cut the rope out of her mouth says her eye was  following him the whole time, and  he will never be the same. 

May you, and all those you love, be so fortunate to be surrounded by people who will help you get untangled from the things that are binding you. And may you always know the joy of giving and receiving gratitude.
    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  And the next heartwarming story in photos:

I  come in  peace.

Norbert Rosing’s  striking images of a wild polar  bear  coming upon
tethered sled dogs in  the wild.  The photographer was sure that he was going to see the end of his dogs when the polar bear  wandered  in: 

   

 

 

The minority are so busy worrying about the rights of Illegal aliens, criminals, atheists and other non Christians who would take away the rights of the Judeo-Christianity upon which are country is founded that political correctness now reigns. When will we as Christians stand up for ourselves and keep “In God We Trust,” Christmas manger scenes, and all our other traditions.  I do not wish to trample on anyone’s religious beliefs or the right to practice them, but I certainly believe that Christ is the reason for Christmas and I will tell the world with pride “Merry Christmas” and good will to all men of every creed. I will as always be wishing everyone a Merry Christmas which is my way of celebrating the birth of Christ Who is the Reason for Christmas.

So, I am asking if you agree with me, please cut and paste this and pass it on to your email friends so that perhaps we can prevent one more American tradition from being lost in the sea of “Political Correctness.”  I have had it with “Political Correctness!

Ben Stein has also had it with Political Correctness.  The following, a must read, was written by Ben Stein and recited by him on CBS
Sunday Morning Commentary.

My confession:
I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees. I don’t feel threatened. I
don’t feel discriminated against. That’s what they are, Christmas 
trees. It doesn’t  bother me a bit when people say, ‘Merry Christmas’ to me. I don’t think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me
in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It  shows that we are all brothers and  sisters celebrating this happy time of year.. It doesn’t bother me at  all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my  beach house in Malibu. If people want a crèche, it’s just as fine  with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don’t like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don’t think  Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think
people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed
around, period. I have no idea where the concept came from,
that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can’t find it in the
Constitution and I don’t like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from
that  we should worship celebrities and we aren’t allowed to
worship God as we understand Him I guess that’s a sign that
I’m  getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who are wondering
where  these celebrities came from and where the America
we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke; it’s not funny, it’s intended to get you thinking. Billy Graham’s daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her ‘How could God let something like this happen’ (regarding Hurricane
Katrina). Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and
insightful response. She said, ‘I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we’ve been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?’

In light of recent events… terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I
think it started when Madeleine Murray O’Hare (she was murdered,
her body found a few years ago) complained she didn’t want
prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then someone said you
better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK. Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we  shouldn’t spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock’s son committed suicide). We said an expert  should know what he’s talking about. And we said okay.

Now we’re asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don’t know right from wrong, and why it doesn’t bother
them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I  think it has a great deal to do with ‘WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.’
Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world’s going to hell. Funny how we believe what the
newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. Funny how you can send ‘jokes’ through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing. Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing yet?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to
many on your address list because you’re not sure what they
believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how we can be more worried about what other people
think of us than what God thinks of us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit.
If not, then just discard it… no one will know you did. But, if you
discard  this thought process, don’t sit back and complain about
what bad  shape the world is in.

My Best Regards,
Honestly and respectfully,
Ben Stein 

 

Raisins:  with the holiday season upon us, please remember that raisins, even a few, can be fatal to dogs.  Please pass this word along.

Chocolate: while great for hormonal women, chocolate can be fatal to our dogs.  If you have a dog like my Snoop who grazes on top of counter, coffee tables, and pantry shelves, please be very careful of putting chocolate, even in boxes or wrapped in foil, out.  I have used hydrogen peroxide on my Snoop a couple of times now after spotting hershey kisses foil.  Serves him right!  I still have not forgiven him for the missing T bone!  I walked out of the kitchen for only a second on Thanksgiving leaving my unstuffed turkey on the counter only to return and witness Snoop pulling on one wing of the turkey while Wendy has the other. Looked like the turkey was being drawn and quartered.  I almost quartered the both of them!  However, a quick rinse under the sink and the still unblemished turkey was good to be spatchcocked (yes a real word and a real procedure. Go to Martha Stewart’s website and search.  Spatchcocking two turkeys for Thanksgiving almost ended our marriage!)

Snoop, the rescue that came to spend a couple of days and has stayed for over nine years now.  He truly is my pal despite his thieving ways.  Totally devoted to me, he is my constant shadow and would protect the Cavaliers and us if needed.  I just wish he would learn manners, but have given up. I think he was a gypsy dog in a past life.

 

 

 

Coyotes:

Coyotes have been appearing in more and more suburban areas and housing devlopments. Los Angeles is rife with them. Recently a coyote attacked a dog in its yard in Grosse Point, Michigan, a very upscale neighborhood.  Coyotes can scale high fences and have gotten very brazen as their habitat has disappeared and their hunger increased.  Coyotes are like chameleons adapting to any environment.  If you know that there are coyotes in your area, do not let your dogs out by themselves. Even with you there, it only takes a moment for a coyote to snatch a dog or cat.