For My Peeps!

I don't know what the Hell this Muppet song is called, but my wife got me this for Valentine's Day.



He's in the jailhouse now...

Well, it's a dark day for Terrance. Shit, it's equally dark for me.

Fudge, the slightly skewed Lab mix we got Terrance, bit a kid next door. The child in question, about 10 or 11 years old, got pinched in the back. It was a bite, just not a puncture bite. Fudge's teeth raked across the kid's skin. He drew blood.

The mother was frantic, but when Tonya and I went over to talk to them and see the boy, she started to calm down. Tonya and I didn't have any problem with her anger. She was justified. And we cooperated as much as we could, even in so much as reporting it before the kid made it to the doctor to be looked at.

Of course, the kid's mom said that she'd have to file a report. I knew what might happen then. Fudge would have to be quarantined for about ten days. Sure enough, they served us papers yesterday stating just that.

This morning, Terrance was heading out to catch the bus to school. I had Fudge on the leash, having just taken him out for a potty break.

"You're not gonna wish your dog well. You're not gonna see him for ten days." I said.
Terrance hesitantly approached him and began to pet him.
"I was just heading out, to catch my bus. I might miss it." he said
"Oh, okay." I replied.
I began to lead Fudge back to the crate.
"He doesn't have rabies, right?" Terrance asked with great uncertainty.
"Don't worry," I replied, "he's gonna be fine."
I heard nothing else but the sound of the door closing and him telling both Aaron and I that he loved us.

Before heading off to work, I took Fudge on the ride to the big house. As soon as we stepped off the truck, he began to bark and growl.

He barked at a woman who was coming into the shelter offices. When we were inside, there were three control officers taking a break. One of the three, the second woman, eyeballed Fudge as he barked and growled.

"He ain't happy." she muttered.

One of the other guards, the male, helped me get the paperwork to the cashier all the while Fudge was asserting himself to the officers. The woman he barked at outside, stepped out from a door and began to talk to me. Well, at me.

"He doesn't have to do that. He can be taught not to do that when strangers are near." she said forcefully, increasing her volume to surpass Fudge's barking.

She then instructed me to give Fudge a tap in the ass, with the side of my shoe, each time he barked at someone. After which, I should reward him. Each time he began to growl, she would bark at me.

"Do it now! Do it now!" she'd say forcefully.

So, I did it. It worked. Each time he barked less and less until, finally, he didn't bark at all.

"He's a nice dog, it's a shame he isn't well trained. But it's not too late."
With that, the grey haired stranger was gone.

"Sir, can I tell you something." the male animal control officer said. "If an animal control officer sees you kicking a dog like that, he ain't gonna be too happy."
"I was just thinking that very same thing. They tell us not to hit a dog and she's telling me the exact opposite."

The control officers were very helpful. They told me about muzzles and ways to help stop Fudge from being aggressive. It made the fact that I had to leave him there easier.

We walked to the back of the facility, which didn't smell too great. The officer led me into the kennel and signed some papers, then had me follow him to find Fudge an empty dog run. After finding it, he let me stay with him for a minute or two before he came back with a bowl of water.

The entire time, Fudge was hesitant to approach the water or even get near the cage. And when I got up to leave, he knew it. He began to yelp and bark.

They did tell us we could come and visit. We can even bring treats. But we can't have physical contact. A vet will check on him, daily, for signs of rabies. Of course, he won't show any; he's got his shots. But afterwards, when we pick him up, he'll have to get neutered.

I've never had something like this happen before. I can't say I'm not upset, cause I am. He'll be released on Valentine's Day. Hope the big house don't change him.



Nothing is sacred.
Not dead bodies. Or live ones.
Now, it seems, drug dealers in Colombia are using innocent little puppies to bring their garbage into the U.S.

Heroin In Puppies

Sick fucking people.


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