I didn't eat anything late last night. Consequently, I am relieved to say there were no weird Pop Tart dreams. I wish I could say there is also no more ungodly heat. Alas, I cannot. In fact, it's getting hotter every day. It's going to be about 96 degrees tomorrow. It could be worse, I know. I'd have been dead yesterday if I lived out west. As far as I can tell, I'm still alive -- although sometimes it's debatable. The weather is a complete paradox to me. It hasn't been that long since I was dragging around a blankie and complaining about being too cold. Jumping from one extreme to another just doesn't work for me. I want -- I need continuity. Rather than spending time and money on things that can't be fixed, I'd like to see someone do something about keeping the temperature at a constant and comfortable 72 degrees. Is that so unreasonable?
One side note: Yesterday, some teenage boys fished a trash bag out of the river in Giles County. The bag had attracted their attention because it was ... crying. Inside, they found ten newborn puppies. The puppies -- the cutest little things I've ever seen! -- are being bottle-fed and lavished with TLC by a series of foster parents and the sheriff is looking for the asshole who dumped them. You know what I think should happen to him, and I'd volunteer to be the one to march his ass down to the river bank and shoot him.
It's getting on toward noon and I am still in my nightgown. I should be ashamed. Not!
The Live Earth concerts are today, and Linkin Park got my day off to a rousing good start. I thought a clip from 2005's Live 8 might also be nice to listen to today.
Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
29 comments:
wow- puppies and live earth..excellent post. I must say, I've been enjoying reading your blog and getting to know you. Its well done! I'd like to add you to my blog roll if that's OK.
Thank you so much, Rick. I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I'd be honored to be added to your blog roll. I'd like to add you to mine as well. Have a Happy Saturday!
Drowning puppies?? Somebody needs a little tire iron therapy.
Yes, they do, T. You can come down here and help me. You beat him senseless with the tire iron and then I'll shoot him. I don't often have violent thoughts, but that really pisses me off.
You know Serena, almost every single day you post a pic of yourself, on the one day you are lounging around the house with your nightie on...NO PIC!!!
I'm very disappointed to say the least, so I guess I'll have to take my frustrations out on these would be puppy drowners....
Strap him down flat on his back, hands and feet tightly secured, slather his groinal area with Alpo, and..........
"Release The Hounds"!!!!
Mmm, it's past noon here and I'm still in my robe. Imagine that. :-)
100% with you on those puppies. As the owner of four dogs, I cannot imagine how someone could do that, and to puppies. I cannot comprehend a heart that black.
Aw, don't fret too much, G. It was a pretty ugly nightie. LOL. I like your idea for dealing with the asshole would-be puppy drowner. After we do that to him, I won't even need to shoot him. I'll just make what's left of him my own personal eunuch and work him to death taking care of my dog.:-)
Your robe had better not have poodle appliques on it, Tre'e. If it does, I'm going to be awfully jealous.:-) I don't understand the kind of black heart and brain-dead mentality that could do such a thing, either.
My stance on the puppy situation should be obvious. Post a picture of them if/when you can. And I WAS going to ask you what you were wearing, but now that is obvious. So now all I can do is get excited about what kind of footwear you've chosen to complete the look.
Puggy, darn it, none of the online stories about it have pictures. If I find one, though, I'll certainly post it. I'll also post a pic of the cretin who dumped them if I ever see one.
Yeah, the thrill is gone. You now know I had on a ratty nightie. The footwear was -- nada. Total bupkis; i.e., them piggies was nekkid. How exciting is that?!
R-dog was the only one of a litter of puppies to survive a wood packing crate in a junkyard, with only a small slot in the top through which a guy sometimes dumped corn meal. I guess he stayed alive licking it out of the mud and faeces. No water, no heat, and February outside, even in Texas, is too cold to survive. As I said, none of his brothers or sisters did.
When he came to us, he weighed only a few pounds. His legs were all bent at odd angles because he had not been able to develop (you know--living in a packing crate and all). The vet told me he would never be bigger than about 15 lbs.
Of course, you know what he looks like NOW...
Oh, and I guess blogger has decided to leave my name as camille alexa instead of Littlebirdblue. I don't think I changed anything. That's weird...
Camille? What the heck is Blogger doing now? Changing names arbitrarily? If it changes my name, I hope it's not to something awful.:)
Camille! I did not know R-dog's history. How awful! That poor baby. I do NOT understand how alleged human beings can be so cruel. Bless his sweet heart, thank God he came to you. He is a beautiful boy.
My little girl came from the pound. She'd been picked up living on the streets with a brand new litter of puppies. She weighed only 12 pounds and was scared to death of sudden gestures or loud noises. Now the little princess weighs a whopping 22 pounds and ain't skeered of nothin'.
If I ever win the lottery, I'm taking in every single needy dog I see.:)
Yep. R-dog has a hefty 70 lbs or so on him. Not the fifteen-pounder I was promised.
Oh, and you don't even want to hear L-dog's story. All I'll say is when they (my friends) broke into the yard and liberated him from his previous owner, he had been lying, starved and dehydrated and incapacitated, in the same spot for so long, the grass unerneath him was dead in the shape of a dog.
Sick.
God, Camille, these stories just drive me berserk. They just break my heart into so many pieces. Bravo to whoever liberated L-dog! I am not above liberation myself. I've done it twice. If somebody wants to call it stealing, I don't give a damn. I call taking a helpless, captive dog with ribs showing, no food or water anywhere in sight, covered in fleas, fur matted, eyes begging for help ... RESCUING. And I'd do it again. Damn straight I would.
Shooting somebody doesn't teach them anything, that's what severe beatings are for. }:>D>
You break both arms and collar bones, so every time their butt needs wiping, they are humiliated.
crap...Vampire puppy killers really chap my hide.
Makes sense to me, Charles. So here's the deal -- as soon as they catch the creep, you guys are all coming to VA and we'll make a party out of beating the hell out of him. Then I think we ought to put him in a bag and throw him in the river and let him take his chances. Maybe somebody will rescue him, maybe they won't. He'll have the same chance as he gave those puppies.
Hi, Sling. It chaps my hide, too -- as you can tell. I'd rather let somebody give me their best shot than let them do it to a tiny animal.
I agree with you--put the jerk in a bag and let the river decide whether he lives or dies. That just makes me sick.
I am surrounded by well-loved dogs in my neighborhood, and one lies at my feet as I type this. How anyone could take a creature so noble and trusting--bred to trust, really--and treat it poorly is beyond me. Obviously those people are sociopaths, and what they do to their "pets" is one of a myriad of things that they do with which you and I disagree. I truly hate people like that.
Yeah, Greeny. You and I think alike on this issue. Into the river with his sorry ass.
I don't know how anybody could do it, either -- except, as you say, the world is filled with sociopaths. It would probably kill them to know that I feed my dog before I feed myself, or that I'll sleep in a skimpy little space rather than wake her and make her move.
You know what else is really killing me about this? The puppies are safe now, and for that I'm thankful, but I feel so sad for the mama dog. She's lactating, and the poor girl is no doubt searching frantically for the babies she knows she had. So sad.
As a lactating mama myself, I can totally relate.
I hope the poor mother dog is ok. If there's one thing that's hard-wired in all mammals, it's taking care of our newborns. She must be just insane, looking for them.
I know, Greeny, bless her poor little heart. She's probably not having much of a life living with the scum who tried to drown her babies. I wish I knew where she was. I'd go liberate her.
I hope you get some relief from the heat. Weird weather everywhere.
Hey Serena!
Yay! No more pop tart dreams!! ;)
It's been pretty warm here too, but I hate the cold So Much I'm scared to complain!!!! :D
And I just love Linkin' Park.
Happy Weekend!
--snow
Hi, Steve. Are you back from your travels now? Oh, yes, indeed, things are weird all over.
Snow! One of my primary rules is, "Never be scared to complain!" Complain about the extreme hot or cold. Maybe somebody will do something about it. Or, maybe not.:-) Happy weekend to you, too.
I'll step out on that seriously bug eroded limb here and say, "move to Hawaii." Extremely consistent temps, beautiful beaches, high cost of living... uh, ignore that last one.
If I could finagle some way to make that move, I'd do it in a heartbeat, Charles. Who wouldn't want to live in paradise? Wow.
And I'd go with you.
...Uh, see your answer to my comment above, about liberating doggies. I don't want to go to Hawaii--my family of 4 would have to find a way to live in our station wagon. No thanks. And I'm already doomed to skin cancer as it is--why borrow trouble?
We could still move to Hawaii, Greeny. There must be Aloha doggies to liberate.:-)
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