For us Pet lovers........

[eastwood]

For pet lovers everywhere....

To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - pet nose height.

Dear Dogs and Cats:

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other
dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the
middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me
to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster
than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about
this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort.
Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not
necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible..
I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging
out the other end, just to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm!

For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom. If by some
miracle I beat you in there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years right by myself--canine or feline attendance is not required!

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

In order to pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:

To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit & Like to Complain About Our Pets, remember:

1. They live here. You don't.
2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture.
That's why they call it "fur"niture.
3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.
4. To you, they are an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter
who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.

Remember: Dogs and cats are better than kids because they:

1. Eat less
2. Don't ask for money all the time
3. Are easier to train
4. Normally come when called
5. Never ask to drive the car
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
7. Don't smoke or drink
8. And last, but not least, If one of them gets pregnant...
It's perfectly legal to sell their kids !!

[rocketman]

That is so cute, thanks for sharing. I regularly told visitors not to piss off my dogs, cuz that would piss me off.

[Mermaidia]

that is cute east. thanks!

[feralronin]

6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
Yeah well can't say that's 100% true. Elmer loves to be around during a trip session.

[freestar]

(1. They live here. You don't)That is so true,I once had a so called friend that would come over,he didnt like cats and we have a cat,so when he came over after we got the cat it jumped up in his lap and he picked it up and threw it across the room.I was pissed,I let him know right then that if he ever put his hands on my cat again me and him was going to have a problem on our hands.I also let him know that the cat lived with us not him and if he didnt like my cat to get around him that there was only one solution and that was for him not to come over.Well he never touched my cat again.

[feralronin]

Originally Posted by scanman

(1. They live here. You don't)That is so true,I once had a so called friend that would come over,he didnt like cats and we have a cat,so when he came over after we got the cat it jumped up in his lap and he picked it up and threw it across the room.I was pissed,I let him know right then that if he ever put his hands on my cat again me and him was going to have a problem on our hands.I also let him know that the cat lived with us not him and if he didnt like my cat to get around him that there was only one solution and that was for him not to come over.Well he never touched my cat again.

Yeah I am allergic to some cats and a few dogs it seems, and personally like dogs more as a result. That being said anyone who does something like that is way out of line. People don't understand the bond that develops between man and pet. It doesn't matter if the pet is a bunch of ants in an ant farm. We all are on this rock together. Man, woman, child, animals, and plants.There is no such thing as a second class anything. And IME people tend to become much more heavy handed when it comes to their pets because A: It's their family. B: Because the domesticated animal respects its owner, the same must be awarded to it.

[Glasshopper]

A bird is just like a child except..
1.) it will never grow up
2.) it will always love you
3.) you can legally lock it in a cage

[Hippie3]

[onediadem]

That was great!

[eastwood]

A Dog Story, Read to the end you won't regret it

They told me the big black Lab's name was Reggie as I looked
at him lying in his pen. The shelter was clean, and the people really friendly. I'd only been in the area for six months, but everywhere I
went in the small college town, people were welcoming and open. Everyone waves when you pass them on the street. But something was still missing as I attempted to settle into my new life here, and I thought a dog couldn't hurt. Give me someone to talk to. And I had just seen Reggie's advertisement on the local news. The shelter said they had received numerous calls right after, but they said the people who had come down to see him just didn't look like "Lab people," whatever that meant. They must've thought I did. But at first, I thought the shelter had misjudged me in giving me Reggie and his things, which consisted of a dog pad, bag of toys almost all of which were brand new. Tennis balls, his dishes, and a sealed letter from his previous
owner. See, Reggie and I didn't really hit it off when we got home. We struggled for two weeks (which is how long the shelter told me to give him to adjust to his new home).Maybe it was the fact that I was trying to adjust, too. Maybe we were too much alike. For some reason, his stuff (except for the tennis balls - he wouldn't go anywhere without two stuffed in his mouth) got tossed in with all of my other unpacked boxes. I guess I didn't really think he'd need all his old stuff. I'd get him new things once he settled in but it became pretty clear pretty soon that he wasn't going to.
I tried the normal commands the shelter told me he knew,
ones like "sit" and "stay" and "come" and "heel," and he'd follow them when he felt like it. He never really seemed to listen when I called his name - sure, he'd look in my direction after the fourth of fifth time I said it, but then he'd just go back to doing whatever. When I'd ask again, you could almost see him sigh and then grudgingly obey. This just wasn't going to work. He chewed a couple shoes and some unpacked boxes. I was a little too stern with him and he resented it, I could tell. The friction got so bad that I couldn't wait for the two weeks to be up, and when it was, I was in full-on search mode for my cell phone amid all of my unpacked stuff. I remembered leaving it on the stack of boxes for the guest room, but I also mumbled, rather cynically, that the "damn dog probably hid it on me."Finally I found it, but before I could punch up the shelter's number, I also found his pad and other toys from the shelter. I tossed the pad in Reggie's direction and he
snuffed it and wagged, some of the most enthusiasm I'd seen since bringing him home. But then I called, "Hey, Reggie, you like that? Come here and I'll give you a treat."Instead, he sort of glanced in my direction maybe "glared" is more accurate and then gave a discontented sigh and flopped down. With his back to me. Well, that's not going to do it either, I thought. And I punched the shelter phone number.. But I hung up when I saw the sealed envelope. I had completely forgotten about that, too. "Okay, Reggie," I said out loud, "let's see if your previous owner has any advice."
To Whoever Gets My Dog: Well, I can't say that I'm happy you're reading this, a letter I told the shelter could only be opened by Reggie's new owner. I'm not even happy writing it. If you're reading this, it means I just got back from my last car ride with my Lab after dropping him off at the shelter. He knew something was different. I have packed up his pad and toys before and set them by the back door before a trip, but this time it's like he knew something was wrong. And something is wrong, which is why I have to go
to try to make it right. So let me tell you about my Lab in the hopes that it will help you bond with him and he with you. First, he loves tennis balls, the more the merrier. Sometimes I think he's part squirrel, the way he hordes them. He usually always has two in his mouth, and he tries to get a third in there. Hasn't done it yet. Doesn't matter where you throw them, he'll bound after it, so be careful - really don't do it by any roads. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost him dearly. Next commands: Maybe the shelter staff already told you, but I'll go over them again: Reggie knows the obvious ones, "sit," "stay," "come," "heel." He knows hand signals: "back" to turn around and go back when you put your hand straight up; and "over" if you put your hand out right or left. "Shake" for shaking water off, and "paw" for a high-five. He does "down" when he feels like lying down, I bet you could work on that with him some more. He knows "ball", "food", "bone" and "treat" like nobody's business. I trained Reggie with small food treats. Nothing opens his
ears like little pieces of hot dog. Feeding schedule: twice a day, once about seven in the morning, and again at six in the evening. Regular store-bought stuff; the shelter has the brand. He's up on his shots. Call the clinic on 9th Street and update his info with yours; they'll make sure to send you reminders for when he's due. Be forewarned, Reggie hates the going to the vet so good luck getting him in the car. I don't know how he knows when it's time to go to the vet, but he knows. Finally, give him some time. I've never been married, so it's only been Reggie and me for his whole life. He's gone everywhere with me, so please include him on your daily car rides if you can. He sits well in the backseat and he doesn't bark or complain.. He just loves to be around people, and me most especially. Which means that this transition is going to be hard, with him going to live with
someone new. And that's why I need to share one more bit of info with you. His name's not Reggie. I don't know what made me do it, but when I dropped him off at the shelter, I told them his name was Reggie. He's a smart dog, he'll get used to it and will respond to it, of that I have no doubt, but I
just couldn't bear to give them his real name. For me to do that, it seemed so final, that handing him over to the shelter was as good as me admitting that I'd never see him again. And if I end up coming back, getting him, and tearing up this letter, it means everything's fine. But if someone else is reading it, well...well it means that his new owner should know his real name. It'll help you bond with him. Who knows, maybe you'll even notice a change in his demeanor if he's been giving you problems. His real name is
Tank. Because that is what I drive. Again, if you're reading this and you're from the area, maybe my name has been on the news. I told the shelter that they couldn't make "Reggie" available for adoption until they received word from my company commander. See, my parents are gone, I have
no siblings, no one I could've left Tank with... and it was my only real request of the Army upon my deployment to Iraq, that they make one phone call the shelter in the "event" to tell them that Tank could be put up for adoption. Luckily, my colonel is a dog guy, too, and he knew where my platoon was headed. He said he'd do it personally. And if you're reading this, then he made good on his word. Well, this letter is getting to downright depressing, even though, frankly, I'm just writing it for my dog. I couldn't imagine if I was writing it for a wife and kids and family but still, Tank has been my family for the last six years, almost as long as the Army has been my family. And now I
hope and pray that you make him part of your family and that he will adjust and come to love you the same way he loved me. That unconditional love from a dog is what I took with me to Iraq as an inspiration to do something selfless, to protect innocent people from those who would do terrible things and to keep those terrible people from coming over here. If I had to give up Tank in order to do it, I am glad to have done so. He was my example of service and of love. I hope I honored him by my service to my country and comrades. All right, that's enough. I deploy this evening and have to
drop this letter off at the shelter. I don't think I'll say another good-bye to Tank, though. I cried too much the first time. Maybe I'll peek in on him and see if he finally got that third tennis ball in his mouth. Good luck with Tank. Give him a good home, and give him an extra kiss
goodnight - every night - from me.
Thank You,
Paul Mallory
I folded the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. Sure I had heard of Paul Mallory, everyone in town knew him, even new people like me. Local kid, killed in Iraq a few months ago and posthumously earning the Silver
Star when he gave his life to save three buddies. Flags had been at half-mast all summer. I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my
knees, staring at the dog. "Hey, Tank," I said quietly. The dog's head whipped up, his ears cocked and his eyes bright. "C'mere boy." He was instantly on his feet, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor. ? He sat in front of me, his head tilted, searching for the
name he hadn't heard in months. "Tank," I whispered. His tail swished.. I kept
whispering his name, over and over, and each time, his ears lowered, his eyes softened, and his posture relaxed as a wave of contentment just seemed to flood him. I stroked his ears, rubbed his shoulders, buried my face into his scruff and hugged him. "It's me now, Tank, just you and me. Your old pal gave you to me." Tank reached up and licked my cheek. ? "So whatdaya say we play some ball? His ears perked again. "Yeah Ball? You like that? Ball?" Tank tore from my hands and disappeared in the next room. When he came back, he had three tennis balls in his mouth.

[Rhyno]

Good read.

[wildburr]

Dammit east, I hate stories like that. always makes me cry

Thanks for posting it

[wildburr]

1. Wet nose master at 6 am
2. go out side to pee on the world
3. make poopy
4. smell poopy
5. think about eating poopy
6. chase funny looking bug instead
7. eat funny looking bug
8. barf up bug on living room floor
9. love up master
10. do it all again tomorrow

[Dr.Hallucination.]

That story brought tears to my eyes,I have Never cried while reading.Very Nice.............

[Shroomette]

awwwwww geez a real tearjerker eastwood. Definitely brought tears to my heart. Great thread btw eastwood thanks for posting it.

[Beastmaster]

Know Dog, Know Love

No Dog, No Love

[SilvrHairDevil]

Dogs have masters

Cats have staff

[Sideshow]

Thanks, eastwood
good thread

[s0mer4ndom1diot]

damn eastwood. touching story.

RIP Paul