During the course of a conversation, a customer complained of a capricious canine.  The malcontented mutt, so known as Buddy, was the property of a pestiferous old prune next door.  He’d decided it was his duty to guard their front door and growl aggressively every time they tried to go into their own garage.

     When I arrived at the premises, I was immediately pounced upon by the pesky pooch, which resulted in my kicking the bastard under the jaw.  He didn’t seem to like it very much, but buggered off, regardless.

     Their own two dogs had been terrorized by the territorial tail-wagger, a detail that became clear today.  The pups watched intently as I banished the bitchy ol’ bastard with a few blasts from a BB Gun.  They immediately began a gleeful, circle-running trip — yes, they were overjoyed!

     Maybe you had to be there … But it’s funny to me that the neighbor’s annoying dog can understand the meaning of, ”Fuck off!”  He didn’t ask questions, didn’t make promises, didn’t try and defend himself.  He just fucked off.

Note: Thanks, Sam, for reminding me to alliterate more…

     Neo-Nazi Skinheads Paul Schlesselman and Daniel Cowert were stupid enough to screw up a perfectly good suicide attempt, but our American Mainstream Media fell for it lock, stock and non-smoking barrel.
     [ Yes, the pun was intended, and kudos if you caught it... ]

     Ya know that gun store those two geniuses were about to rob so they could get the guns to carry out their plan to “die trying” to kill Obama, but instead knew all along they they were actually going to go out in a blaze of glory while wearing white tuxedos and tophats — because they watched Alice in Wonderland using Pink Floyd: The Wall as a soundtrack one too many times when they were stoned?  Or something like that?

     Yeah, well, it didn’t get robbed… because…

     There were dogs…

     Can anyone else follow the logic — and take it seriously — where they’re planning a grandiose death as martyrs, but they’re afraid to rob the gun store containing the provisions they need because omfg there are dogs?!?!

     Pure genius.

     So you have to wonder about the intelligence of the Obama Camp and the MSM…

     Come the hell on!

     MSM, get off your lazy butts and investigate!

     Enquiring minds wanna know…

     What kinda dogs were they?!

     They must have been German Shepherds… *cough!*

I have dogcats, too.

Last summer was a real barn burner as the dogcats took out scores of bunnies, mice, birds, and squirrels, along with attacking people, Poodles and a Rottweiler.

They moved to a new house this year and I’m still not sure how things will stack up. The first bunnies appeared in the yard last week. The dogcats must have been pretty excited about it judging by the carnage.

The toll so far in bodies found is:

• 4 mice/rats
• 1 bird
• 1 flying squirel
• 1 bunny
• 1 baby bird 7-4-007

A slow start. I’m also unsure of the mouse count as there were parts and I can only guess at the number of actual bodies… Oh, and they attempted to attack a guy on a bicycle.

     Back in the 1980’s, various liberal organizations began trying to ban people from owning “dangerous dogs.”  Pit bulls were quickly lofted to the first position as the most cantankerous canine.
     But when a six-week-old pit bull puppy chews four toes off of a one-month-old baby, liberal organizations all over the country call for volunteers to adopt the puppy.
     At least, that’s what I hear…

     “The puppy is too young to know what it’s doing!”
     “It’s so young, it may have been trying to nurse!”
     “Killing puppies is cruel!  No animal deserves to die!”

     So, umm… What did these same organizations want to do with all the pit bulls they tried to have banned?
     Hmmm?

     The story is simple, really.
     Two parents went to sleep on the floor their home.  Their one-month-old child stayed in her car seat on the floor beside them.  An impromptu “fence” was constructed to keep the dog from waking them up.
     Somehow, the parents didn’t wake up to the screams of their own child, screams which I’m certain would have been indicative that something was wrong.  Instead, they slept two feet away as the puppy ate four of her toes.
     Because, you know — it’s the parent’s fault, not the puppy’s.
     *cough*
     Riiiiiiiiiiiight…

     Clearly both were at fault.

     So let’s sit back and think for a minute…
     What if the baby had been killed?  Would the dog be saved, or would it be put down as a “dangerous dog?”
     And if the puppy had been a opossum instead?  There would certainly be no saving it.

     Back in July, Swanky had his meticulously planned First Annual Luau at his place.  Sure, maybe it’s a little presumptuous, thinking that it’s gonna be an Annual event, but it was truly a great party.
     A *lot* of people showed up (sixty-plus) to eat and drink heavily, and everyone played nice together.  Where else but Swanky’s Annual Luau are you gonna get sixty people together and not end up with a fight, hurt feelings or annoyance?  (Note the hint, Swanky)

     The next day after cleaning up the yard — kudos to the conscientious crowd who knew how to decently dispose of their debris — the DogCats were extremely affectionate.
     Now, if you’re not familiar with the DogCats, they’re a couple of rather large Maine Coon Cats who play fetch, stand up, chase cars, attack strangers who come into yard and Rottweilers being walked by their owners.  Just imagine your average German Shepherd with needle-sharp teeth and razor claws, and that’s pretty much their overall demeanor.
     After a nice session of fetch with the branches in the yard, the younger of the two decided to take a rest from which little could stir him.  Swanky threw a branch on him.  The younger younger DogCat flinched, bit it a couple of times, and laid back down.
     This, of course, prompted Swanky, Ms. Swanky and I to start throwing more on him.

     Of course, the fun didn’t stop there.  He just laid there while we added more and more.

     “Oh, man, this is great!  It’s Catmouflage!” I said as I piled a few more on.
     The laughter brought the elder DogCat closer to observe the situation.

     If I didn’t didn’t mention it before, yeah, the DogCats can talk, too.  I think his exact words were, “Umm… what the Hell are you people doing?  Umm … You realize you three are idiots, right?”

     Of course, he went to check on his younger sibling, who appeared to be quite “dead” at the time….

     …however, his concern was met with a sharp tag on the nose by his little brother’s outstretched paw.

     We continued, but the very last branch, much larger than the rest, was enough for him.

     One flip, and he walked right out.

     And that was that.

     Note to PETA and the SPCA: No DogCats were harmed during this excercise.  Neither were any sheep or rams.  Please do not attempt with normal cats.

     Good times, good times…